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-The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Golden Gems of Life, by
-S. C. Ferguson and E. A. Allen
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
-the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
-
-Title: The Golden Gems of Life
- Gathered Jewels for the Home Circle
-
-Author: S. C. Ferguson
- E. A. Allen
-
-Release Date: March 6, 2016 [EBook #51374]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GOLDEN GEMS OF LIFE ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Jane Robins, Chris Pinfield and the Online
-Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
-file was produced from images generously made available
-by The Internet Archive)
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
- [Illustration: Engraved & Printed by Illman Brothers.
- THE HOME CIRCLE.]
-
-
- [Illustration: THE
- GOLDEN GEMS
- OF LIFE:]
-
- OR,
-
- [Illustration: Gathered Jewels for the Home Circle.]
-
- BY
-
- S. C. FERGUSON
- AND
- E. A. ALLEN.
-
-
- [Illustration]
-
- CENTRAL PUBLISHING HOUSE,
- CINCINNATI.
- 1884
-
-
- COPYRIGHT BY
- S. C. FERGUSON AND E. A. ALLEN,
- 1880
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: PREFACE.]
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-The design of this work is to rouse to honorable effort those who are
-wasting their time and energies through indifference to life's prizes.
-In the furtherance of this aim the authors have endeavored to gather
-from all possible sources the thoughts of those wise and earnest men and
-women who have used their pens to delineate life and its possibilities,
-its joys and its sorrows. They do not claim to have furnished more than
-the setting in which are placed these "GEMS" of thought gathered thus
-from sources widely different.
-
-Their hope is, that they may be able to rouse in the minds of the
-careless a sense of the value of existence. To those who are striving
-nobly for true manhood or womanhood, they would fain bring words of
-encouragement. They trust that many may derive from its pages
-inspirations which will serve to make real their hopes of success and
-happiness.
-
- CINCINNATI, _January 1, 1880_.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: CONTENTS.]
-
-
-Life.
-
- Life ill spent—Life's Real Value—A Triumph or a Defeat—Power
- over Life—What True Life Means—Prospective View of Life—The
- Journey Laborious—Man does not live for himself—Failure of
- Success—Possibilities of Life—Steady Aim Necessary—Life a
- Struggle—Duty of Right Living, Page 21
-
-
-Home.
-
- Thoughts of Home—We never forget Home—Power of Home Thoughts—Home
- Memories—Home the Fountain of Civilization—Influence of Home—Home
- Experiences—Home a Sensitive Place—Qualifications of Home—Home
- Affections—In what a Home consists—Home Happiness composed of
- Little Things—Home a Type of Heaven, 29
-
-
-Home Circle.
-
- Home Circle a Delightful Place—The Nursery of Affection—The
- Heart's Garden—Importance of Home Affections—Requisites of Home
- Love—Importance of Home Language and Habits—Home Circle the Center
- of Affection—Love an Important Element of Home Happiness—Children
- in Home Circle—Influence emanating from Home Circle—Home Circle
- soon broken, 39
-
-
-Father and Mother.
-
- Care of Parents for Children—Children should return Parents'
- Love—Dangers of Forgetfulness on Part of Children—Duty of writing
- to and visiting Parents—Children should try to make Parents
- Comfortable and Happy—The Love of Mother to Son—Son's Duty to a
- Mother—Loss of a Parent—The Grave of a Mother, 47
-
-
-Infancy.
-
- Infancy the Morning of Life—Parental Anxiety during
- Infancy—Parental Responsibility—Parental Duty—Influence of
- Infants—Infants the Poetry of the World—Infancy and Death—Graves
- of Infants, 54
-
-
-Childhood.
-
- Childhood the Happiest Time—Child's Soul without Character—Power
- of Imitation with Children—Children incited by Example—Praise of
- Children—Reproving Children—Parents' Duty to make Childhood
- Happy—Children the Ornament of Home—Fleeting Period of Childhood, 60
-
-
-Brother and Sister.
-
- Love between Brother and Sister Pleasing—Power of a Sister's
- Love—Depths of a Sister's Love—Love for a Sister a Noble
- Thing—Power of a Sister's Influence—Sister's Duty in this
- Respect—Each Necessary to the Other's Welfare—The Ideal Girl—The
- Ideal Boy, 67
-
-
-Manhood.
-
- Manhood the Isthmus between Two Extremes—Pursuits of Each Age—Early
- Manhood Potential for Good—Claims of Society on Young Men—Young
- Men's Duty in this Respect—Young Men should cultivate their
- Intellect—Thinking makes True Manhood, 74
-
-
-Womanhood.
-
- True Womanhood a Noble Thing—Error Women make—Womanly Power—Woman's
- Moral Influence—Source of Woman's Happiness—A Good Woman never grows
- old, 80
-
-
-Home Harmonies.
-
- An Important Theme—Parents' Duty to make Happy Homes—Influence of a
- Happy Home—In what a Happy Home consists—Business Man's
- Home—Pictures in a Home—Conversation at Home—Parents should study
- Children's Character, 89
-
-
-Home Duties.
-
- Duty ever at Hand—One Danger of Home Life—Children trained at
- Home—Home Language—Happiness of Children—The Domestic
- Seminary—Education of Children—Children's Duties to Parents, 97
-
-
-Aim of Life.
-
- An Aim Essential—Danger of an Aimless Life—Daily Need of Life—All
- can accomplish Something—All must labor—Choice of an Occupation—Must
- do your own deciding—A Second Profession—Manhood the Most Noble
- Aim, 104
-
-
-Success or Failure.
-
- All Desirous of Success—The Two Ends of Life—Success only won by
- Toil—Danger of overlooking this Fact—Earnestness the Secret of
- Success—Traits of Character Necessary to Success—All can accomplish
- Something—In what True Success consists, 111
-
-
-Dignity of Labor.
-
- Labor the Lot of All—Labor a Glory—Civilization the Result of
- Labor—Life necessarily Routine—Labor not an End of Life—Victories
- of Labor—All Honest Work Honorable, 118
-
-
-Perseverance.
-
- Value of Perseverance—One Man's Work Compared with the Total
- Amount—All Excellence the Result of Perseverance—Example of
- Gibbon—Results of Human Perseverance—Nature's Lesson—Perseverance
- and Genius, 125
-
-
-Enterprise.
-
- Enterprise distinct from Energy—Seeks for Novelty—Necessity for
- Enterprise—Enterprise an Inheritance—Value of Self-reliance—Demands
- of the Hour, 132
-
-
-Energy.
-
- Energy is Force of Character—Resolution and Energy—Energy and
- Wisdom—Man's Duty—Value of Energy—Success the Result of Energy, 138
-
-
-Punctuality.
-
- Value of Punctuality—Punctuality a Positive Virtue—Punctuality the
- Life of the Universe—The Value of Time—Punctuality gives Force to
- Character, 145
-
-
-Concentration.
-
- Necessity of Concentration—Must concentrate Energy for Success—Evil
- of Dissipation—Concentration not One-sidedness—You must pay the
- Price of Success, 151
-
-
-Decision.
-
- Quality of Decision—Necessity of Decision—Courageous Action
- necessary—Foster's Remarks on Decision—Unhappy Results of
- Indecision—Decision of Character a Necessity of the Present
- Age—Decision not Undue Haste, 159
-
-
-Self-Confidence.
-
- Value of Self-confidence—Difficulties a Positive Blessing—Reliance
- on Good Name—Great Men have been Self-reliant—We admire
- Self-reliant men, 166
-
-
-Practical Talents.
-
- What is meant by Practical Talents—Difference between Practical and
- Speculative Ability—Knowledge of Men Indispensable—Intellectual
- Knowledge—Education—Perfect Knowledge of Few Things, 172
-
-
-Education.
-
- Value of Intellect—Education a Development—Education covers the
- Whole of Life—Education Right or Wrong—A Just Appreciation of
- Wisdom—Importance of Exact Knowledge, 179
-
-
-Mental Training.
-
- Necessity of Mental Culture—Power of Trained Intellect—Mental
- Training Pleasant and within Reach of All—Importance of
- Reading—Train the Judgment—Thought, 187
-
-
-Self-Culture.
-
- In what Self-culture consists—Necessity of Physical
- Culture—Necessity of Mental Culture—Educating Influence of
- Every-day Life—Moral Culture—Self-culture ever pressing its Claims, 194
-
-
-Literature.
-
- Influence of Literature—Literature and Encouragement—Consolation of
- Literature—Literature the Soul of Action—How to choose
- Books—Influence of Reading on Personal Character—Power of the
- Press, 201
-
-
-Mental Power.
-
- Intellectual Triumphs—How shown—What Necessary for its
- Attainment—Best Results obtained by training All the
- Faculties—Obtained by Years of Exertion, 207
-
-
-Choice of Companions.
-
- Influence of Associates—Character shown by the Company you keep—No
- One can afford to associate with Bad Company—Power of Bad Associates
- to debase you—Persons whom Society has most to fear—Why Evil
- Associates debase us—Influence of Good Company—Rank in Society
- determined by Choice of Companions, 211
-
-
-Friends.
-
- Value of Friendship—Language of Friendship a Varied One—All need
- Friends—Test of Friendship—Friendship a Tender Sentiment—Poverty a
- Test of Friendship—Death of a Friendship—Old Friends, 217
-
-
-Power of Custom.
-
- Power of Custom—Likes and Dislikes—Creatures of Custom—Habit man's
- Best Friend or Worst Enemy—How Habits grow—Evil Habits must be
- conquered—Importance of Good Habits—How to form Good Habits, 223
-
-
-Influence.
-
- Nature of Influence—Influence Immortal—Solemn Thought—Every Thing
- exerts Influence—Examples from Nature—Influence of Great Men—Your
- Influence for Good or for Evil—Influence of Human Actions—Duty of
- exerting a Good Influence—Responsibility for our Influence, 229
-
-
-Character.
-
- Character a Great Motive Power—Value of Good Character—Character is
- Power—Difference between Character and Reputation—Character of Slow
- Growth—Character our Own—Character always acting—Character a Grand
- Thing, 237
-
-
-Prudence.
-
- Value of Prudence—Difficulty of defining Prudence—The Tongue of
- Prudence, 244
-
-
-Temperance.
-
- Beauty of Temperance—Danger of Impulse—Temperance and
- Health—Temperance dwells in the Heart—Temperance consists in
- Self-Control—Must be Temperate to make the Most of Life, 247
-
-
-Frugality.
-
- In what Frugality consists—Frugality and Liberality—Frugality
- necessary to Acquisition of Wealth—The Danger of going beyond the
- Income—Influence of Economy on the Other Emotions, 252
-
-
-Patience.
-
- Patience the Ballast of the Soul—Necessity of Patience—Examples of
- Eminent Men—Patience an Element of Home Happiness, 259
-
-
-Self-Control.
-
- Self-control a Form of Courage—Importance of Mental
- Faculties—Government and Progress—Composure Highest Form of
- Power—Strong Temper not always a Bad One—Man born for Dominion, 264
-
-
-Courage.
-
- In what Courage consists—Courage not confined to the
- Battlefield—Occasion for Courage in Domestic Life—Courage of
- Endurance for Conscience's Sake, 270
-
-
-Charity.
-
- Charity like Dew from Heaven—Charity a Lovable Trait—The Spirit of
- Charity always doing Good—Universal Charity—Death and Charity, 275
-
-
-Kindness.
-
- Kindness the Music of Good-will—Kindness makes Sunshine—Should
- never feel ashamed of Kindness—Kindness not necessarily shown in
- Gifts—Kindness shown in Little Things—Influence of Unnoticed
- Kindness—Showing Kindness a Noble Revenge—Kind Words and their
- influence, 280
-
-
-Benevolence.
-
- Doing Good a Happy Act—No Excess of Good Deeds—Benevolence
- necessary to a Perfect Life—Liberality not Profuseness—Benevolence
- during Life, 286
-
-
-Veracity.
-
- Truth always Consistent—Falsehood Perplexing—Strict Veracity has
- regard to Looks and Actions—Lying a Cowardly Trait—Danger of too
- close Adherence to Truth due to Lack of Caution, 292
-
-
-Honor.
-
- Honor a Glorious Trait of Character—Honor shown in Little
- Acts—Honor and Virtue not the Same, 296
-
-
-Policy.
-
- Policy of the Nature of Cunning—Extent of this Principle—A
- Characteristic Trait of the Age—Policy not Prudence or
- Caution—Policy not Discretion—Danger of judging from Appearance, 299
-
-
-Egotism.
-
- Egotism a Disagreeable Trait—Egotism, how shown—Why We dislike
- Egotism in Others—Danger of Self-love—The True Line between Egotism
- and Self-conceit, 303
-
-
-Vanity.
-
- Vanity requires Skill in the Management—Danger of Love of
- Applause—Vanity attacks Every Thing—Deception of Vanity—Vanity not
- wholly Bad—Vanity ever present, 307
-
-
-Selfishness.
-
- Nature of Selfishness—Selfishness destructive of
- Happiness—Selfishness a Narrow Quality—Selfishness contracts the
- Mind—Selfishness shows itself in Many Ways—Last Hours of a Selfish
- Life, 311
-
-
-Obstinacy.
-
- Obstinacy a Trait of Low Minds—Peculiar Property of
- Obstinacy—Obstinacy a Barrier to Improvement—Obstinacy not
- Firmness—Necessity of sometimes yielding—Be not in a Hurry to
- change Opinion, 315
-
-
-Slander.
-
- Nature of Calumny—Slander never tired—Slander loved only by the
- Base—Slander can not injure a Good Man—Slander easily started—Your
- Own Character shown in describing Another's—Speak kindly of the
- Absent, 319
-
-
-Irritability.
-
- Irritability an Unpleasant Quality—The Source of Envy and
- Discontent—Sin of fretting—Fretting easy to indulge—Evidence of a
- Moral Weakness—Evidence of Littleness of Soul, 324
-
-
-Envy.
-
- Envy Born of Pride—Envy a Foolish Trait—Envy destroys One's Own
- Happiness—Envy seeks to pull down Others—Envy Cruel in pursuit—Envy
- grows in All Hearts, 328
-
-
-Discontent.
-
- A Discontented Man wretched—Discontent at Times wicked—Universality
- of Discontent—Contentment Felicity—Duty to enjoy God's
- Blessing—Contentment abides with Little Things—Contentment not
- Supine Satisfaction—Folly of Discontent, 332
-
-
-Deception.
-
- Deceit an Obstacle to Happiness—Deceit in Friendship Most
- Detestable—Deceit Inimical to Society—Deception and
- Hypocrisy—Deception assumes Many Forms, 338
-
-
-Intermeddling.
-
- A Busybody disliked by All—Allied to Envy and Slander—The Source of
- Many Troubles—Mischief wrought by an Intermeddler—Beware of
- Curiosity—A Meddler not moved by the Spirit of Charity, 342
-
-
-Anger.
-
- Anger an Impotent Quality—Anger unmans a Man—Fit Occasions for
- Indignation—Anger always Terrible or Ridiculous—Strong Temper not
- of Necessity a Bad One, 346
-
-
-Ambition.
-
- Ambition a Deceptive Quality—Ambition fatal to Happiness—Ambition
- fatal to Friendship—Ambition a Shadowy Quality—Ambition not
- Aspiration—Ambition an Excessive Quality—Ambitious of True Honor a
- Grand Thing, 350
-
-
-Politeness.
-
- Importance of Politeness—Manner influences Worldly
- Opinion—Fascinating Manners not Politeness—Politeness does not
- depend on National Peculiarities—Politeness is Kindness—Description
- of a Gentleman—Politeness comes of Sincerity—Politeness a Noble
- Trait of Character—Business Value of Politeness—Good Manners can
- not be laid aside, 354
-
-
-Sociability.
-
- Mutual Intercourse necessary to Happiness—Society the Balm of
- Life—Duty of doing Something for Society—All Social Duties
- Reciprocal—Society the Spirit of Life—Anomalies of Society
- explained—Happy Influence of Society, 361
-
-
-Dignity.
-
- Dignity defined—Dignity not Dependent on Place—Dignity the
- Ennobling Quality of Politeness—Three Kinds of Dignity—Dignity not
- Conceit—Dignity not Hauteur and Pride, 367
-
-
-Affability.
-
- Affability an Ornament—Affability of Value—Why Affability promotes
- Success—Not well enough acquainted with Each Other—Duty of
- cultivating Affability—Whom to be Affable with, 371
-
-
-The Toilet.
-
- Dress denotes the Man—Duty of Dressing—Love of Beauty right—Mental
- Qualities shown by the Toilet—Beauty of Simplicity—The Style of
- Dress—Dress need not be Costly—Dress of a Gentleman—Dandies
- Ridiculous, 375
-
-
-Gentleness.
-
- Gentleness a Pleasing Quality—We do not sufficiently value
- Gentleness—Power of Gentleness—Gentleness belongs to Virtue—Great
- Power always Gentle in Expression—Power in Gentle Words—Foundation
- of True Gentleness, 382
-
-
-Modesty.
-
- Modesty a Mark of Wisdom—Modesty a Beautiful Setting to Talents—All
- Great Events complete themselves in Silence—Modesty not
- Bashfulness—Modesty Different from Reserve—Modesty Crowning
- Ornament of Woman, 387
-
-
-Love.
-
- Love a Ruling Element—Love a Need of the Heart—Power of Love—Love
- a Proof of Moral Excellence—Love elevates Life—Duty to study the
- Nature of Love—Love founded on Esteem and Respect—Love Dependent on
- Etiquette—Woman's Love Stronger than Man's—Love purifies the Heart, 391
-
-
-Courtship.
-
- Importance of the Question—Mistaken Notions as to Time—Courtship
- and Wedded Love—Happiness Dependent on Love—All Jest out of
- Place—Duty of Careful Thought on Courtship—Marriage should be made
- a Study—Courtship a Voyage of Discovery—The True Companion must be
- sought for—A Critical Point in a Woman's Life—Must be an
- Equal—Courtship Beautiful, 400
-
-
-Marriage.
-
- Marriage a Solemn Spectacle—Human Happiness ever accompanied by
- Sorrow—Loving Trust of Woman—Importance of the Act—Marriage the
- Entrance to a New World—Influence of a Wife's Moral
- Character—Discipline of the Affections—Marriage a
- Necessity—Marriage should be made a Study—Why Disappointments
- arise—Marriage a Real and Earnest Affair, 408
-
-
-Single Life.
-
- Marriage universally expected—Happiness of Single Life—Matrimony
- brings Cares as well as Joys—Marriage not the Chief End of
- Life—Marriage the More Preferable State—Jeremy Taylor's Contrast of
- the Two States—Early Marriages Injudicious—Why Some remain Single, 416
-
-
-Married Life.
-
- Marriage the Bond of Social Order—Influence of a Good Wife—Nature
- of the Marriage Tie—Gold can not purchase Love—Unhappy
- Marriages—Human to see the Good Side of Things past—Happiness found
- in consulting the Happiness of Others—Elevating Influence of
- Marriage, 422
-
-
-Duties of Married Life.
-
- Duty of Married Life can not be shaken off—Marriage does not change
- human Nature—Love not the Only Requisite of Domestic Felicity—Chance
- to make or mar Life—Danger from Familiarity—Patience demanded—Must
- expect Imperfections—Must seek the Happiness of Others—Duty of
- forgetting Self, 429
-
-
-Trials of Married Life.
-
- Trials to be expected—Death of Wedded Love—Daily Life the Test of
- Married Love—Domestic Happiness reached through Trials—Must learn
- to bear with the Faults of Each Other—Imperfections of Character
- make the Strongest Claims on our Love—Many Trials arise from
- Mistaken Notions as to Economy—Necessity of having a Home, 436
-
-
-Husband and Wife.
-
- True Marriage the Growth of Years—There must be a Mutual
- Self-sacrifice—Keep Faults to yourself—Constant Tenderness and Care
- necessary—Proofs of Affection should be granted—Duty of Husbands—Duty
- of Wives—Man desires Woman's Sympathy and Love—Wives should consult
- Husbands' Taste, 443
-
-
-Jealousy.
-
- Baseness of this Passion—Distinction between Jealousy and
- Envy—Jealousy preferable to Envy—Jealousy assumes Many Forms—No
- One willing to Acknowledge Jealousy—Jealousy a Deadly
- Thing—Suspicion an Enemy to Happiness, 449
-
-
-Regret.
-
- Regret a Sad Word—All have felt it—The Profoundest Sorrows
- self-wrought—Death an Occasion of Much Regret—Shadowed Lives—How
- to escape regret, 454
-
-
-Memory.
-
- Memory the Noblest Gift of Providence—Memory the Golden
- Cord—Treasure of a Good Memory—Memory of Past Days—Slight Things
- suffice to recall Past Memories—The Reminiscences of Youth—Memory
- sometimes Painful—Memory crowds Years into Moments, 458
-
-
-Hope.
-
- Hope accomplishes All Things—Moderate Hope Helpful—Sustaining Power
- of Hope—Should only hope for Probable Things—Hope ever with
- us—Hope lives in the Future—The Morality of Hope—A True Hope ever
- Present—Hopes and Fears—Rise above Trouble, 465
-
-
-Prosperity.
-
- Prosperity the Test of Character—A Degree of Prosperity to be
- reasonably hoped for—Continuous Prosperity not a Good Thing—How to
- prosper—Prosperity and Happiness not Identical—Early Adversity the
- Foundation of Future Prosperity—Hardships a Good Thing, 472
-
-
-Trifles.
-
- Details Important—Trifles make Success—No Such Thing as Trifles in
- Life—Trifles make the Difference between First and Second Class
- Work—Unhappiness of Life caused by Trifles—Trifles make an Influence, 477
-
-
-Leisure.
-
- Spare Moments the Gold-dust of Time—Time our Estate—What can be
- done in Leisure Time—Busiest Persons have always the Most Time—Time
- can not be recalled—Effort required to employ Time Rightly—Death
- teaches the Value of Time, 482
-
-
-Happiness.
-
- Happiness the Principal Thing—Deceitfulness of Happiness—Happiness
- like To-morrow—Wealth and Fame not Necessary to Happiness—Can not
- control our Outward Surroundings—Circumstances not essential to
- Happiness—Disposition to enjoy Life what is wanted—Enjoy Present
- Surroundings—Content is Happiness—Must seek for Happiness in the
- Right Way, 488
-
-
-True Nobility.
-
- True Nobility often counterfeited—Man not rated by his
- Possessions—Greatness often Obscure—Some Great in Evil—Influence
- of Noble Principles—True Nobility Modest in Expression—Nobility of
- Character Reverential—True Nobility within Reach of All, 494
-
-
-A Good Name.
-
- A Good Name the Richest Possession—Based on Permanent
- Excellence—The Result of Individual Exertion—Influence of Youth on
- Life—Rewards of possessing a Good Name—Evil of being devoid of it, 501
-
-
-Meditation.
-
- Meditation the Soul's Perspective Glass—Must learn to subdue the
- Impulses—Meditation the Counselor of the Mental Powers—Guard
- against Impure Thoughts—Duty of Thinking, 507
-
-
-Principles.
-
- Principles the Springs of our Actions—Danger of Loose
- Principles—Good Principles ever acting—False Principles, 512
-
-
-Opportunity.
-
- Must Rightly use Small Opportunities—Opportunity and Ability—All
- have a Few Opportunities—Must not wait for Opportunity, 516
-
-
-Duty.
-
- Duty ever Present with us—Duty based on Justice—We must will to do
- our Duty—Duty and Might—Duty does not fear Censure, 520
-
-
-Trials.
-
- Life Full of Trials—Joy and Sorrow near together—Trials sent for
- our Good—Wisdom won by Trials—Man like a Sword—Never meet Trouble
- Half Way—Sorrow should remind us of God, 524
-
-
-Sickness.
-
- Sickness draws us near to God—Sickness softens the Heart—Sickness
- renders us All Equals—The Blessings of Sickness—Sickness and
- Health—Discipline of a Sick-bed, 529
-
-
-Sorrow.
-
- Sorrows gather around Great Souls—Sorrows make the Mind Genial—Life
- abounds in Sorrowful Scenes—Sorrow the Noblest of
- Discipline—Christianity a Religion of Sorrow—Suffering must be
- patiently submitted to—Sorrow sometimes too Sacred to be spoken
- of—Must not give way to Causeless Sorrow, 532
-
-
-Poverty.
-
- Poverty a Valued Discipline—Evils of Poverty Imaginary—Genius a
- Gift of Poverty—The Advantages of struggling with Poverty—Poverty
- the Test of Civility—Real Wants of Mankind but Few—Misfortune of
- beginning Life Rich—Poverty of the Mind Most Deplorable, 539
-
-
-Affliction.
-
- The Elasticity of the Human Mind—Affliction a School of
- Virtue—Adversity the Touchstone of Character—The Uncertainty of
- Human Life—Suffering Divinely appointed—Thought when Death comes, 545
-
-
-Disappointments.
-
- Disappointments Divinely appointed—Disappointments the Lot of
- Man—Shadowed Lives—Many disappointed because they do not look for
- Happiness in the Right Way—Must meet Disappointments Bravely—Must
- be accepted with Resignation—Disappointments sometimes arise from
- Undue Expectations—Time disappoints our Cherished plans—Life a
- Variegated Scene, 552
-
-
-Failure.
-
- Ultimate Success attained through Present Failure—Failures for our
- Own Good—The True Hero perseveres in Spite of Failure—Do not give
- Way to Despair—No One succeeds in All his Undertakings—Many ruined
- by Early Success—How to view Past Mistakes—Sorrows of Mankind
- traced to Blighted Hopes—The Brave-hearted Man rises Superior to
- Present Difficulties, 557
-
-
-Despondency.
-
- Dark Hours as well as Bright Ones—Dire Effects of Despair—Influence
- of Hope—Duty of resisting Despondency—Despondency a Failure of
- Duty—To give Way to Despair not Manly—Lesson from Nature—Causeless
- Depression of Spirits—Human Nature to see the Dark Side, 565
-
-
-Faith.
-
- Faith the Prophet of the Soul—Faith a Necessity—Faith a Reasonable
- Thing—Faith ever with us—Difference between Morality and
- Faith—Faith expands the Intellect—Must not judge the Outward
- Manifestations of Faith—Faith and Works, 570
-
-
-Worship.
-
- Necessity of Prayer—Prayer arises from the Heart—Prayer and Outward
- Action—Prayer the Password to Heaven—Family Worship—Necessity of
- Daily Worship—Family Prayers knit together the Home—We often pray
- Improperly—What God looketh at in Prayers—The Lord's Prayer, 575
-
-
-Religion.
-
- Religion binds Man to God—True Religion a Noble Thing—Effect of
- Religion—Religion Full of Joys—Religion a Natural Thing—Religion
- not established by Reason—Sorrow for Sin—Three Modes of bearing
- Ills of Life—Surrounded by Motives to Religion—Religion a Refining
- Influence—Religion teaches the Dignity of Common Life—Religion
- enforces the doing of Common Duties, 581
-
-
-God in Nature.
-
- "The Heavens proclaim the Glory of God"—The Gospel written on
- Nature—Distinguishing Features of God's Works—Study of Nature leads
- to True Religion—Plan running through Nature's Works—Wondrous
- Natural Scenes conduce to a Proper View of God, 588
-
-
-The Bible.
-
- Eulogy of the Bible—The Bible the Oldest Monument Extant—The Bible
- Adapted to Every Condition—The Bible the Foundation of our Religious
- Faith—The Bible our Constant Attendant—The Bible a Tried Book—The
- Scriptures Adapted to All Times of Life—The Bible gives us a Sure
- Foundation to stand upon, 592
-
-
-Future Life.
-
- Importance of this Question—Changes of the Seasons proving Future
- Life—Men at All Times have pondered the Question of Death—Tenable
- Ground for the Hope of Future Life—Visions on Death-beds, 596
-
-
-Time and Eternity.
-
- Insignificance of Man as compared to Eternity—The Hour-glass
- Emblematical of the World—The Closing Year of our Life—Transitory
- Period of Human Life—The Vanities and Contentions of Life viewed
- from the Stand-point of Eternity, 599
-
-
-The Evening of Life.
-
- The Beauty of Age—Different Ages of Life contrasted—In the
- Realities of Life we lose Sight of the Dreams of Youth—Age should
- present the Grandest Thoughts—Age has no Terror to those who see it
- near—The True Man does not wish to be a Child again—Death the
- Transition Stage to a More Glorious and Perfect Life—In Death we are
- All Equal—Should Cultivate Cheerful Thoughts about Death—Poem on
- Death, 602
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: Golden Gems of Life]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: LIFE.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-We can conceive of no spectacle better calculated to lead the mind to
-serious reflections than that of an aged person, who has misspent a long
-life, and who, when standing near the end of life's journey, looks down
-the long vista of his years, only to recall opportunities unimproved.
-Now that it is all too late, he can plainly see where he passed by in
-heedless haste the real "gems of life" in pursuit of the glittering
-gewgaws of pleasure, but which, when gained, like the apples of Sodom,
-turned to ashes in his very grasp. What a different course would he
-pursue would time but turn backwards in his flight and he be allowed to
-commence anew to weave the "tangled web of life." But this is not
-vouchsafed him. Regrets are useless, save when they awaken in the minds
-of youth a wish to avoid errors and a desire to gather only the true
-"jewels of life."
-
-Life, with its thousand voices wailing and exulting, reproving and
-exalting, is calling upon you. Arouse, and gird yourself for the race.
-Up and onward, and
-
- "Waking,
- Be awake to sleep no more."
-
-Not alone by its ultimate destiny, but by its immediate obligations,
-uses, enjoyment, and advantages, must be estimated the infinite and
-untold value of life. It is a great mission on which you are sent. It is
-the choicest gift in the bounty of heaven committed to your wise and
-diligent keeping, and is associated with countless benefits and
-priceless boons which heaven alone has power to bestow. But, alas! its
-possibilities for woe are equal to those of weal.
-
-It is a crowning triumph or a disastrous defeat, garlands or chains, a
-prison or a prize. We need the eloquence of Ulysses to plead in our
-behalf, the arrows of Hercules to do battle on our side. It is of the
-utmost importance to you to make the journey of life a successful one.
-To do so you must begin with right ideas. If you are mistaken in your
-present estimates it is best to be undeceived at the first, even though
-it cast a shadow on your brow. It is true, that life is not mean, but it
-is grand. It is also a real and earnest thing. It has homely details,
-painful passages, and a crown of care for every brow.
-
-We seek to inspire you with a wish and a will to meet it with a brave
-spirit. We seek to point you to its nobler meanings and its higher
-results. The tinsel with which your imagination has invested it will all
-fall off of itself so soon as you have fairly entered on its experience.
-So we say to you, take up life's duties now, learn something of what
-life is before you take upon yourself its great responsibilities.
-
-Great destinies lie shrouded in your swiftly passing hours; great
-responsibilities stand in the passages of every-day life; great dangers
-lie hidden in the by-paths of life's great highway; great uncertainty
-hangs over your future history. God has given you existence, with full
-power and opportunity to improve it and be happy; he has given you equal
-power to despise the gift and be wretched; which you will do is the
-great problem to be solved by your choice and conduct. Your bliss or
-misery in two worlds hangs pivoted in the balance.
-
-With God and a wish to do right in human life it becomes essentially a
-noble and beautiful thing. Every youth should form at the outset of his
-career the solemn purpose to make the most and the best of the powers
-which God has given him, and to turn to the best possible account every
-outward advantage within his reach. This purpose must carry with it the
-assent of the reason, the approval of the conscience, the sober judgment
-of the intellect. It should thus embody within itself whatever is
-vehement in desire, inspiring in hope, thrilling in enthusiasm, and
-intense in desperate resolve. To live a life with such a purpose is a
-peerless privilege, no matter at what cost of transient pain or
-unremitting toil.
-
-It is a thing above professions, callings, and creeds. It is a thing
-which brings to its nourishment all good, and appropriates to its
-development of power all evil. It is the greatest and best thing under
-the whole heavens. Place can not enhance its honor; wealth can not add
-to its value. Its course lies through true manhood and womanhood;
-through true fatherhood and motherhood; through true friendship and
-relationship of all legitimate kinds—of all natural sorts whatever. It
-lies through sorrow and pain and poverty and all earthly discipline. It
-lies through unswerving trust in God and man. It lies through patient
-and self-denying heroism. It lies through all heaven prescribed and
-conscientious duty; and it leads as straight to heaven's brightest gate
-as the path of a sunbeam leads to the bosom of a flower.
-
-Many of you to-day are just starting on the duties of active life. The
-volume of the future lies unopened before you. Its covers are
-illuminated by the pictures of fancy, and its edges are gleaming with
-the golden tints of hope. Vainly you strive to loosen its wondrous
-clasp; 'tis a task which none but the hand of Time can accomplish. Life
-is before you—not earthly life alone, but life; a thread running
-interminably through the warp of eternity. It is a sweet as well as a
-great and wondrous thing. Man may make life what he pleases and give it
-as much worth, both for himself and others, as he has energy for.
-
-The journey is a laborious one, and you must not expect to find the road
-all smooth. And whether rich or poor, high or low, you will be
-disappointed if you build on any other foundation. Take life like a man;
-take it just as though it was as it is—an earnest, vital, essential
-affair. Take it just as though you personally were born to the task of
-performing a merry part in it—as though the world had waited for your
-coming. Live for something, and for something worthy of life and its
-capabilities and opportunities, for noble deeds and achievements. Every
-man and every woman has his or her assignments in the duties and
-responsibilities of daily life. We are in the world to make the world
-better, to lift it up to higher levels of enjoyment and progress, to
-make the hearts and homes brighter and happier by devoting to our
-fellows our best thoughts, activities, and influences.
-
-It is the motto of every true heart and the genius of every noble life
-that no man liveth to himself—lives chiefly for his own selfish good.
-It is a law of our intellectual and moral being that we promote our own
-real happiness in the exact proportions we contribute to the comfort and
-happiness of others. Nothing worthy the name of happiness is the
-experience of those who live only for themselves, all oblivious to the
-welfare of their fellows. That only is the true philosophy which
-recognizes and works out the principle in daily life that—
-
- "Life was lent for noble deeds."
-
-Life embraces in its comprehensiveness a just return of failure and
-success as the result of individual perseverance and labor. Live for
-something definite and practical; take hold of things with a will, and
-they will yield to you and become the ministers of your own happiness
-and that of others. Nothing within the realm of the possible can
-withstand the man or woman who is intelligently bent on success. Every
-person carries within the key that unlocks either door of success or
-failure. Which shall it be? All desire success; the problem of life is
-its winning.
-
-Strength, bravery, dexterity, and unfaltering nerve and resolution must
-be the portion and attribute of those who resolve to pursue fortune
-along the rugged road of life. Their path will often lie amid rocks and
-crags, and not on lawns and among lilies. A great action is always
-preceded by a great purpose. History and daily life are full of examples
-to show us that the measure of human achievements has always been
-proportional to the amount of human daring and doing. Deal with
-questions and facts of life as they really are. What can be done, and is
-worth doing, do with dispatch; what can not be done, or would be
-worthless when done, leave for the idlers and dreamers along life's
-highway.
-
-Life often presents us with a choice of evils instead of good; and if
-any one would get through life honorably and peacefully he must learn to
-bear as well as forbear, to hold the temper in subjection to the
-judgment, and to practice self-denial in small as well as great things.
-Human life is a watch-tower. It is the clear purpose of God that every
-one—the young especially—should take their stand on this tower, to
-look, listen, learn, wherever they go and wherever they tarry. Life is
-short, and yet for you it may be long enough to lose your character,
-your constitution, or your estate; or, on the other hand, by diligence
-you can accomplish much within its limits.
-
-If the sculptor's chisel can make impressions on marble in a few hours
-which distant eyes shall read and admire, if the man of genius can
-create work in life that shall speak the triumph of mind a thousand
-years hence, then may true men and women, alive to the duty and
-obligations of existence, do infinitely more. Working on human hearts
-and destinies, it is their prerogative to do imperishable work, to build
-within life's fleeting hours monuments that shall last forever. If such
-grand possibilities lie within the reach of our personal actions in the
-world how important that we live for something every hour of our
-existence, and for something that is harmonious with the dignity of our
-present being and the grandeur of our future destiny!
-
-A steady aim, with a strong arm, willing hands, and a resolute will, are
-the necessary requisites to the conflict which begins anew each day and
-writes upon the scroll of yesterday the actions that form one mighty
-column wherefrom true worth is estimated. One day's work left undone
-causes a break in the great chain that years of toil may not be able to
-repair. Yesterday was ours, but it is gone; today is all we possess, for
-to-morrow we may never see; therefore, in the golden hour of the present
-the seeds are planted whereby the harvest for good or evil is to be
-reaped.
-
-To endure with cheerfulness, hoping for little, asking for much, is,
-perhaps, the true plan. Decide at once upon a noble purpose, then take
-it up bravely, bear it off joyfully, lay it down triumphantly. Be
-industrious, be frugal, be honest, deal with kindness with all who come
-in your way, and if you do not prosper as rapidly as you would wish
-depend upon it you will be happy.
-
-The web of life is drawn into the loom for us, but we weave it
-ourselves. We throw our own shuttle and work our own treadle. The warp
-is given us, but the woof we furnish—find our own materials, and color
-and figure it to suit ourselves. Every man is the architect of his own
-house, his own temple of fame. If he builds one great, glorious, and
-honorable, the merit and the bliss are his; if he rears a polluted,
-unsightly, vice-haunted den, to himself the shame and misery belongs.
-
-Life is often but a bitter struggle from first to last with many who
-wear smiling faces and are ever ready with a cheerful word, when there
-is scarcely a shred left of the hopes and opportunities which for years
-promised happiness and content. But it is human still to strive and
-yearn and grope for some unknown good that shall send all unrest and
-troubles to the winds and settle down over one's life with a halo of
-peace and satisfaction. The rainbow of hope is always visible in the
-future. Life is like a winding lane—on either side bright flowers and
-tempting fruits, which we scarcely pause to admire or taste, so eager
-are we to pass to an opening in the distance, which we imagine will be
-more beautiful; but, alas! we find we have only hastened by these
-tempting scenes to arrive at a desert waste.
-
-We creep into childhood, bound into youth, sober into manhood, and
-totter into old age. But through all let us so live that when in the
-evening of life the golden clouds rest sweetly and invitingly upon the
-golden mountains, and the light of heaven streams down through the
-gathering mists of death, we may have a peaceful and joyous entrance
-into that world of blessedness, where the great riddle of life, whose
-meaning we can only guess at here below, will be unfolded to us in the
-quick consciousness of a soul redeemed and purified.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: HOME.]
-
- "Home is the resort
- Of love, of joy, of peace and plenty, where,
- Supporting and supported, polished friends
- And dear relations mingle into bliss."
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Home! That word touches every fiber of the soul, and strikes every chord
-of the human heart with its angelic fingers. Nothing but death can break
-its spell. What tender associations are linked with home! What pleasing
-images and deep emotions it awakens! It calls up the fondest memories of
-life, and opens in our nature the purest, deepest, richest gush of
-consecrated thought and feeling.
-
-To the little child, home is his world—he knows no other. The father's
-love, the mother's smile, the sister's embrace, the brother's welcome,
-throw about his home a heavenly halo, and make it as attractive to him
-as the home of angels. Home is the spot where the child pours out all
-his complaint, and it is the grave of all his sorrows. Childhood has its
-sorrows and its grievances; but home is the place where these are
-soothed and banished by the sweet lullaby of a fond mother's voice.
-
-Ask the man of mature years, whose brow is furrowed by care, whose mind
-is engrossed in business,—ask him what is home. He will tell you: "It
-is a place of rest, a haven of content, where loved ones relieve him of
-the burden of every-day life, too heavy to be continuously borne, from
-whence, refreshed and invigorated, he goes forth to do battle again."
-
-Ask the lone wanderer as he plods his weary way, bent with the weight of
-years and white with the frosts of age,—ask him what is home. He will
-tell you: "It is a green spot in memory, an oasis in the desert, a
-center about which the fondest recollection of his grief-oppressed heart
-clings with all the tenacity of youth's first love. It was once a
-glorious, a happy reality; but now it rests only as an image of the
-mind."
-
-Wherever the heart wanders it carries the thought of home with it.
-Wherever by the rivers of Babylon the heart feels its loss and
-loneliness, it hangs its harp upon the willows, and weeps. It prefers
-home to its chief joy. It will never forget it; for there swelled its
-first throb, there were developed its first affections. There a mother's
-eye looked into it, there a father's prayer blessed it, there the love
-of parents and brothers and sisters gave it precious entertainment.
-There bubbled up, from unseen fountains, life's first effervescing
-hopes. There life took form and consistence. From that center went out
-all its young ambition. Towards that focus return its concentrating
-memories. There it took form and fitted itself to loving natures; and it
-will carry that impress wherever it may go, unless it becomes polluted
-by sin or makes to itself another home sanctified by a new and more
-precious affection.
-
-There is one vision that never fades from the soul, and that is the
-vision of mother and of home. No man in all his weary wanderings ever
-goes out beyond the overshadowing arch of home. Let him stand on the
-surf-beaten coast of the Atlantic, or roam over western wilds, and every
-dash of the wave or murmur of the breeze will whisper home, sweet home!
-Let him down amid the glaciers of the north, and even there thoughts of
-home, too warm to be chilled by the eternal frosts, will float in upon
-him. Let him rove through the green, waving groves and over the sunny
-slopes of the south, and in the smile of the soft skies, and in the kiss
-of the balmy breeze, home will live again. Let prosperity reward his
-every exertion, and wealth and affluence bring round him all the luxury
-of the earth, yet in his marble palace will rise unforbidden the vision
-of his childhood's home. Let misfortune overtake him; let poverty be his
-portion, and hunger press him; still in troubled dreams will his
-thoughts revert to his olden home.
-
-If you wanted to gather up all tender memories, all lights and shadows
-of the heart, all banquetings and reunions, all filial, fraternal,
-paternal, conjugal affections, and had only just four letters to spell
-out all height and depth, and length and breadth, and magnitude and
-eternity of meaning, you would write it all out with the four letters
-that spell Home.
-
-What beautiful and tender associations cluster thick around that word!
-Compared with it, wealth, mansion, palace, are cold, heartless terms.
-But home,—that word quickens every pulse, warms the heart, stirs the
-soul to its depths, makes age feel young again, rouses apathy into
-energy, sustains the sailor in his midnight watch, inspires the soldier
-with courage on the field of battle, and imparts patient endurance to
-the worn-out sons of toil.
-
-The thought of it has proved a sevenfold shield to virtue; the very name
-of it has a spell to call back the wanderer from the path of vice; and,
-far away where myrtles bloom and palm-trees wave, and the ocean sleeps
-upon coral strands, to the exile's fond fancy it clothes the naked rock,
-or stormy shore, or barren moor, or wild height and mountain, with
-charms he weeps to think of, and longs once more to see.
-
-Every home should be as a city set on a hill, that can not be hid. Into
-it should flock friends and friendship, bringing the light of the world,
-the stimulus and the modifying power of contact with various natures,
-the fresh flowers of feeling gathered from wide fields. Out of it should
-flow benign charities, pleasant amenities, and all those influences
-which are the natural offspring of a high and harmonious home-life.
-
-The home is the fountain of civilization. Our laws are made in the home.
-The things said there give bias to character far more than do sermons
-and lectures, newspapers and books. No other audience are so susceptible
-and receptive as those gathered about the table and fireside; no other
-teachers have the acknowledged and divine right to instruct that is
-granted without challenge to parents. The foundation of our national
-life is under their hand. They can make it send forth waters bitter or
-sweet, for the death or the healing of the people.
-
-The influences of home perpetuate themselves. The gentle graces of the
-mother live in the daughter long after her head is pillowed in the dust
-of death; and the fatherly kindness finds its echoes in the nobility and
-character of sons who come to wear his mantle and fill his place. While,
-on the other hand, from an unhappy, misgoverned, and ill-ordered home,
-go forth persons who shall make other homes miserable, and perpetuate
-the sorrows and sadness, the contentions and strifes, which have made
-their own early lives miserable. In every proper sense in which home can
-be considered, it is a powerful stimulant to noble actions and a high
-and pure morality. So valuable is this love of home that every man
-should cherish it as the apple of his eye. As he values his own moral
-worth, as he prizes his country, the peace and happiness of the world;
-yea, more, as he values the immortal interests of man, he should cherish
-and cultivate a strong and abiding love of home.
-
-Home has voices of experience and hearts of genuine holy love, to
-instruct you in the way of life, and to save you from a sense of
-loneliness as you gradually discover the selfishness of mankind. Home
-has its trials, in which are imaged forth the stern struggles of your
-after years, that your character may gain strength and manifestation,
-for which purpose they are necessary; they open the portals of his
-heart, that the jewels otherwise concealed in its hidden depths may
-shine forth and shed their luster on the world. Home has its duties, to
-teach you how to act on your own responsibilities. Home gradually and
-greatly increases its burdens, so that you may acquire strength to
-endure without being overtasked. Home is a little world, in which the
-duties of the great world are daily rehearsed.
-
-He who has no home has not the sweetest pleasures of life. He feels not
-the thousand endearments that cluster around that hallowed spot, to fill
-the void of his aching heart, and while away his leisure moments in the
-sweetest of life's enjoyments. Is misfortune your lot, you will find a
-friendly welcome from hearts beating true to your own. The chosen
-partner of your toil has a smile of approbation when others have
-deserted you, a hand of hope when all others refuse, and a heart to feel
-your sorrows as her own. No matter how humble that home may be, how
-destitute its stores, or how poorly its inmates may be clad, if true
-hearts dwell there, it is still a home.
-
-Of all places on earth, home is the most delicate and sensitive. Its
-springs of action are subtle and secret. Its chords move with a breath.
-Its fires are kindled with a spark. Its flowers are bruised with the
-least rudeness. The influences of our homes strike so directly on our
-hearts that they make sharp impressions. In our intercourse with the
-world we are barricaded, and the arrows let fly at our hearts are warded
-off; but not so with us at home. Here our hearts wear no covering, no
-armor. Every arrow strikes them; every cold wind blows full upon them;
-every storm beats against them. What, in the world, we would pass by in
-sport, in our homes would wound us to the quick. Very little can we bear
-at home, for it is a sensitive place.
-
-If we would have a true home, we must guard well our thoughts and
-actions. A single bitter word may disquiet the home for a whole day;
-but, like unexpected flowers which spring up along our path full of
-freshness, fragrance, and beauty, so do kind words and gentle acts and
-sweet disposition make glad the home where peace and blessing dwell. No
-matter how humble the abode, if it be thus garnished with grace and
-sweetened by kindness and smiles, the heart will turn lovingly towards
-it from all the tumults of the world, and home, "be it ever so humble,"
-will be the dearest spot under the sun.
-
-There is no happiness in life, there is no misery, like that growing out
-of the disposition which consecrates or desecrates a home. "He is
-happiest, be he king or peasant, who finds peace at home." Home should
-be made so truly home that the weary, tempted heart could turn towards
-it anywhere on the dusty highways of life, and receive light and
-strength. It should be the sacred refuge of our lives, whether rich or
-poor.
-
-The affections and loves of home are graceful things, especially among
-the poor. The ties that bind the wealthy and proud to home may be forged
-on earth, but those which link the poor man to his humble hearth are of
-the true metal, and bear the stamp of heaven. These affections and loves
-constitute the poetry of human life, and so far as our present existence
-is concerned, with all the domestic relations, are worth more than all
-other social ties. They give the first throb to the heart, and unseal
-the deep fountains of its love. Homes are not made up of material
-things. It is not a fine house, rich furniture, a luxurious table, a
-flowery garden, and a superb carriage, that make a home. Vastly superior
-to this is a true home. Our ideal homes should be heart-homes, in which
-virtue lives and love-flowers bloom and peace-offerings are daily
-brought to its altars. It is made radiant within with every social
-virtue, and beautiful without by those simple adornments with which
-nature is every-where so prolific. The children born in such homes will
-leave them with regret, and come back to them in after life as pilgrims
-to a holy shrine. The towns on whose hills and in whose vales such homes
-are found will live forever in the hearts of its grateful children.
-
-How easy it is to invest homes with true elegance, which resides not
-with the upholsterer or draper! It exists in the spirit presiding over
-the apartments of the dwelling. Contentment must be always most
-graceful; it sheds serenity over the scenes of its abode; it transforms
-a waste into a garden. The house lighted by those imitations of a nobler
-and brighter life may be wanting much which the discontented may desire,
-but to its inhabitants it will be a palace far outvying the Oriental in
-beauty.
-
-There is music in the word Home. To the old it brings a bewitching
-strain from the harp of memory, to the middle-aged it brings up happy
-thoughts, while to the young it is a reminder of all that is near and
-dear to them. Our hearts turn with unchangeable love and longing to the
-dear old home which sheltered us in childhood. Kind friends may beckon
-us to newer scenes, and loving hearts may bind us fast to other pleasant
-homes; but we love to return to the home of our childhood. It may be old
-and rickety to the eyes of strangers; the windows may have been broken
-and patched long ago, and the floor worn through; but it is still the
-old home from out of which we looked at life with hearts full of hope,
-building castles which faded long ago. Here we watched life come and go;
-here we folded still, cold hands over hearts as still, that once beat
-full of love for us.
-
-Even as the sunbeam is composed of millions of minute rays, the
-home-life must be constituted of little tendernesses, kind looks, sweet
-laughter, gentle words, loving counsels. It must not be like the torch
-blaze of natural excitement, which is easily quenched, but like the
-serene, chastened light, which burns as safely in the dry east wind as
-in the stillest atmosphere. Let each bear the other's burden the while;
-let each cultivate the mutual confidence which is a gift capable of
-increase and improvement, and soon it will be found that kindness will
-spring up on every side, displacing unsuitability, want of mutual
-knowledge, even as we have seen sweet violets and primroses dispelling
-the gloom of the gray sea-rocks.
-
-The sweetest type of heaven is home. Nay, heaven itself is the home for
-whose acquisition we are to strive most strongly. Home in one form or
-another is the great object of life. It stands at the end of every day's
-labor, and beckons us to its bosom; and life would be cheerless and
-meaningless did we not discern across the river that divides it from the
-life beyond glimpses of the pleasant mansions prepared for us. Yes,
-heaven is the home towards which those who have lived aright direct
-their steps when wearied by the toils of life. There the members of the
-homes on earth, separated here, will meet again, to part no more.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: HOME CIRCLE.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-The home circle may be, ought to be, the most delightful place on earth,
-the center of the purest affections and most desirable associations, as
-well as of the most attractive and exalted beauties to be found this
-side of paradise. Nothing can excel in beauty and sublimity the
-quietude, peace, harmony, affection, and happiness of a well-ordered
-family, where virtue is nurtured and every good principle fostered and
-sustained.
-
-The home circle is the nursery of affection. It is the Eden of young
-attachments, and here should be planted and tended all the germs of
-love, every seed that shall ever sprout in the heart; and how carefully
-should they be tended! how guarded against the frosts of jealousy,
-anger, envy, pride, vanity, and ambition! how rooted in the best soil of
-the heart, and nourished and cultivated by the soul's best husbandry!
-
-Here is the heart's garden. Its sunshine and flowers are here. All its
-beautiful, all its lovely things are here. And here should be expended
-care, toil, effort, patience, and whatever may be necessary to make them
-still more lovely. It is around the memories of the home circle that
-cluster the happiest and sometimes the saddest of the recollections of
-youth. There is the thought of brother and sister, perhaps now gone
-forever; of childish sorrow and grief; of the mother's prayer and the
-father's blessing. Do you wonder that these memories, both bitter and
-sweet, linger in the chambers of the mind long after those of the busy
-years of maturity have faded away before the approach of age? With what
-assiduity ought all who have arrived at the years of maturity strive to
-make their homes pleasant—and especially is this true of parents—so
-that its members when they go from thence will carry with them thoughts
-that through all the weary years that are before them will afford a
-pleasant retreat for them when well-nigh wearied with the care which
-comes with increasing years.
-
-We can not honor with too deep a reverence the home affections; we can
-not cultivate them with too great a care; we can not cherish them with
-too much solicitude. There is the center of our present happiness, the
-springs of our deepest and strongest tides of joy. When the home
-affections are duly cultivated all others follow or grow out of them as
-a natural consequence. If any would have fervent and noble affections,
-such as give power and glory to the human heart, such as sanctify the
-soul and make it supremely beautiful, such as an angel might covet
-without shame, let him cultivate all the feelings that originate, as
-from a radiant point, in the home circle.
-
-The true flower of home love requires for its development the aid of
-every member of the home circle. The tears of sympathy as well as the
-sunshine of domestic affection bring it to its glorious maturity.
-Ofttimes there are families the members of which are, without doubt,
-dear to each other. If sickness or sudden trouble fall on one all are
-afflicted, and make haste to help and sympathize and comfort. But in
-their daily life and ordinary intercourse there is not only no
-expression of affection, none of the pleasant and fond behavior that
-has, perhaps, little dignity, but which more than makes up for that in
-its sweetness, but there is an absolute hardness of language and actions
-which is shocking to every sensitive and tender feeling. Between father
-and mother, brother and sister, ofttimes pass rough and hasty words, and
-sometimes angry words, even more frequently than words of endearment. To
-judge from their actions they do not appear to love each other, nor does
-it seem to have occurred to them that it is their duty, as it should be
-their best pleasure, to do and say all that they possibly can for each
-other's good and happiness.
-
-It is in the home circle where we form many, if not the most, of our
-habits, both of action and speech. These habits we carry into the world.
-They cling to us. The vulgarities which we use at home we shall use
-abroad—the coarse sayings, the low jest, the vulgar speeches, the
-grammatical blunders. All the lingual imperfections which go to form a
-part of our home conversation will enter into our conversation at all
-times and in all places. The home circle should be held too sacred to be
-polluted with the vulgarities of languages, which could have originated
-nowhere but in low and groveling minds. It should be dedicated to love
-and truth, to all that is tender in feeling and noble and pure in
-thought, to holiest communion of soul with soul. In order that such a
-communion may be enjoyed it is requisite that language should there
-perform its most sacred office, even the office of transmitting
-unimpared the most tender and sacred affections that glow in the human
-heart.
-
-If the dialects of angels could be used on earth its fittest place would
-be the home circle. The language of home should be such as would not
-stain the purest lips nor fall harshly on the most refined ear. It
-should abound in words of wisdom which are at once the glory of youth
-and the honor of age.
-
-The home circle, what tender associations does it recall! How deeply
-interwoven are its golden filaments with all the fiber of our
-affectionate natures, forming the glittering of the heart's golden life!
-Here are father, mother, child, brother, sister, companions, all the
-heart loves, all that makes earth lovely, all that enriches the mind
-with faith and the soul with hope. What language is most fitting for
-home use, to bear the messages of home feeling, to be freighted with the
-diamond treasure of home hearts? Should it be any other than the most
-refined and pure? any other than that breathing the sacred charity of
-affection?
-
-Home is the great seeding-place of every affection that ever grows in
-the heart. Hence all should tend well to it, watch, prune, and cultivate
-with all prudence and wisdom, with all fervency of spirit. Let the music
-of the heart swell its notes here in one perpetual anthem of good will.
-Let praise and prayer and fervent good wishes and words and works hallow
-its sacred shrine. Let offices of love go round like smiles at a feast
-of joy. Let the whole soul devote its energies to making happy its home,
-and its rewards will be great.
-
-If there be any tie formed in life which ought to be securely guarded
-from any thing which can put it in peril it is that which unites the
-members of a family. If there be a spot upon earth from which discord
-and strife should be banished it is the fireside. There center the
-fondest hopes and the most tender affections.
-
-The great lever by which the heart is moved is love; it is the basis of
-all true excellence, of all excellent thought. How pleasing the
-spectacle of that home circle which is governed by the spirit of love!
-Each one strives to avoid giving offense, and is studiously considerate
-of the others' happiness. Sweet, loving dispositions are cultivated by
-all, and each tries to surpass the other in his efforts for the common
-harmony. Each heart glows with love, and the benediction of heavenly
-peace seems to abide upon that dwelling with such power that no storm of
-passion is able to rise.
-
-There is no pleasanter sight than that of a family of young folks who
-are quick to perform little acts of attention towards their elders. The
-placing of the big arm-chair for the mother, or kindly errands done for
-father, and scores of little deeds, show the tender sympathy of gentle,
-loving hearts. Parents should show their appreciation of these kindly
-acts. If they do not indicate that they are appreciated the habit is
-soon dropped.
-
-Little children are imitative creatures, and quickly catch the spirit
-surrounding them. So, if the father shows kindly attention to the
-mother, bright eyes will see the act, and quick minds will make a note
-of it. By example much more than by precept can children be taught to
-speak kindly to each other, to acknowledge favors, to be gentle and
-unselfish, to be thoughtful and considerate of the comfort of the
-family.
-
-The boys, with inward pride of the father's courteous demeanor, will be
-chivalrous and helpful to their sisters; and the girls, imitating the
-mother, will be patient and gentle, even when brothers are noisy and
-heedless.
-
-In the homes where true courtesy prevails it seems to meet you on the
-threshold. You feel the kindly welcome on entering. No angry voices are
-heard up stairs, no sullen children are sent from the room, no
-peremptory orders are given to cover the delinquencies of housekeeping
-or servants. A delightful atmosphere pervades the house, unmistakable,
-yet indescribable. Such a house, filled by the spirit of love, is a home
-indeed, to all who enter within its consecrated walls.
-
-Members of the home circle lose nothing by mutual politeness; on the
-contrary, by maintaining not only its forms, but by inward cultivation
-of its spirit, they become contributors to that domestic feeling which
-is in itself a foretaste of heaven. The good-night and the good-morning
-salutation, though they may seem but trifles, have a sweet and softening
-influence on all its members. The little kiss and artless good-night of
-the smaller ones, as they retire to rest, have in them a heavenly
-melody.
-
-Children are the pride and ornament of the family circle. They create
-sport and amusement and dissipate all sense of loneliness from the
-household. When intelligent and well trained they afford a spectacle
-which even indifferent persons contemplate with satisfaction and
-delight. Still these pleasurable emotions are not unalloyed with
-solicitude. It is an agreeable but changeable picture of human
-happiness. Time in advancing carries them forward, and erelong they will
-feel like exclaiming, with the older and more sad and serious ones
-around them, that their youth exists only in remembrance.
-
-There is probably not an unpolluted man or woman living who does not
-feel that the sweetest consolations and best rewards of life are found
-in the loves and delights of home. There are very few who do not feel
-themselves indebted to the influence that clustered around their cradles
-for whatever good there may be in their character and condition. The
-influence preceding from the home circle is either a blessing or a
-curse, either for good or for evil. It can not be neutral. In either
-case it is mighty, commencing with our birth, going with us through
-life, clinging to us in death, and reaching into the eternal world. It
-is that unitive power which arises out of the manifold relations and
-associations of domestic life. The specific influence of husband and
-wife, of parent and child, of brother and sister, of teacher and pupil,
-united and harmoniously blended, constitute the home influence. From
-this we may infer the character of home influence. It is great, silent,
-irresistible, and permanent. Like the calm, deep stream, it moves on in
-silent but overwhelming power. It strikes root deep into the human
-heart, and spreads its branches wide over our whole being. Like the lily
-that braves the tempest, and the "Alpine flower that leans its cheek on
-the bosom of eternal snow," it is exerted amid the wildest scenes of
-life, and breathes a softening spell in our bosom, even when a heartless
-world is freezing up the fountains of our sympathy and love. It is
-governing, restraining, attracting, and traditional. It holds the empire
-of the heart and rules the life. It restrains the wayward passions of
-the child and checks the man in his mad career of ruin.
-
-But all pictures of earthly happiness are transient in duration. Where
-can you find an unbroken home circle? The time must soon come, if it has
-not already, when you must part from those who have surrounded the same
-parental board, who mingled with you in the gay-hearted joys of
-childhood and the opening promise of youth. New cares will attend you in
-new situations, and the relations you form and the business you pursue
-may call you far from the "play-place" of your youth. In the unseen
-future your brothers and sisters may be sundered from you, your lives
-may be spent apart, and in death you may be divided; and of you it may
-be said:
-
- "They grew in beauty side by side,
- They filled one home with glee;
- Their graves are severed far and wide,
- By mount and stream and sea."
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: FATHER AND MOTHER.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-How can children repay parents for their watchings, anxieties, labors,
-toils, trials, patience, and love? Think of the utter helplessness of
-the long years of infancy, of the entire dependence of succeeding
-childhood, of the necessities and wants of youth, of the burning
-solicitude of parents, and their deep and inexhaustible love; think of
-the long years of unwearied toil, of their deep and soul-felt devotion
-to the interests of their offspring, of the majesty and matchless power
-of their unselfish affections—and then say whether it is possible for
-youth to repay too much love and gratitude for all this bestowal of
-parental anxiety.
-
-Oh, what thankfulness should fill every child's heart! What a glorious
-return of love! Every day should they give them some token of love.
-Every hour should their own hearts glow with gratitude and holy respect
-for those who have given them being, and loved them so fervently and
-long. Nothing will so warm and quicken all the affections of the
-parent's heart as such respect. Who feels like trusting an ungrateful
-child? Who can believe that his affection for any object can be firm and
-pure? The child who has loved long and well his parents has thoroughly
-electrified his affections, has surcharged them with the sweet spirit of
-an affectionate tenderness, which will pervade his entire heart, and
-will make him better and purer forever. The affections of such a child
-are to be trusted. As well may one doubt an angel as such a one.
-
-There is always a liability, where sons and daughters have gone from the
-home of their childhood, and have formed homes of their own, gradually
-to lose the old attachments and cease to pay those attentions to parents
-which were so easy and natural in the olden time. New associations, new
-thoughts, new cares, all come in, filling the mind and heart, and, if
-special pains be not taken, they thrust out the old love. _This ought
-never to be._ Children should remember that the change is in them, and
-not with those they left behind. They have every thing that is new, much
-that is attractive in the present and bright in the future; but the
-parents' hearts cling to the past, and have most in memory. When
-children go away, they know not, and never will know until they
-experience it themselves, what it cost to give them up, nor what a
-vacancy they left behind.
-
-The parents have not, if the children have, any new loves to take the
-place of the old. Do not, then, heartlessly deprive them of what you
-still can give of attention and love. If you live in the same place, let
-your step be—if possible, daily—a familiar one in the old home. Even
-when many miles away, make it your business to go to your parents. In
-this matter do not regard time or expense. They are well spent; and some
-day when the word reaches you, flashed over the wires, that your father
-or mother is gone, you will not regret then the many hours of travel
-spent in going to them while they were yet alive.
-
-Keep up your intercourse with your parents. Do not deem it sufficient to
-write only when something important is to be told. Do not believe that
-to them "no news is good news." If it be but a few lines, write them.
-Write, if it be only to say, "I am well;" if it be only to send the
-salutation which says they are "dear," or the farewell which tells them
-that you are "affectionate" still. These little messages will be like
-caskets of jewels, and the tear that falls fondly over them will be
-treasures for you. Let every child, having any pretense to heart, or
-manliness, or piety, and who is so fortunate as to have a father or
-mother living, consider it a sacred duty to consult, at any reasonable
-personal sacrifice, the known wishes of such a parent until that parent
-is no more; and, our word for it, the recollections of the same through
-the after pilgrimage of life will sweeten every sorrow, will brighten
-every gladness, will sparkle every tear-drop with a joy ineffable.
-
-There is no period of life when our parents do not claim our attention,
-love, and warmest affections. From youth to manhood, from middle age to
-riper years, if our honored parents survive, it should be our constant
-study how we can best promote their welfare and happiness, and smooth
-the pillow of their declining years.
-
-Nothing better recommends an individual than his attentions to his
-parents. There are some children whose highest ambition seems to be the
-promotion of their parents' interest. They watch over them with
-unwearied care, supply all their wants, and by their devotion and
-kindness remove all care and sorrow from their hearts. On the contrary,
-there are others who seem never to bestow a thought upon their parents,
-and to care but little whether they are comfortably situated or not. By
-their conduct they increase their cares, embitter their lives, and bring
-their gray hairs with sorrow to the grave. Selfishness has steeled their
-hearts to the whispers of affection, and avarice denies to their parents
-those favors which would materially assist them in the down-hill of
-life.
-
-Others, too, by a course of profligacy and vice, have drained to the
-very dregs their parents' cup of happiness, and made them anxious for
-death to release them from their sufferings. How bitter must be the doom
-of those children who have thus embittered the lives of their best
-earthly friends!
-
-There can be no happier reflection than that derived from the thought of
-having contributed to the comfort and happiness of our parents. When
-called away from our presence, which sooner or later must happen, the
-thought will be sweet that our efforts and our care smoothed their
-declining years, so that they departed in comfort and peace. If we were
-otherwise, and we denied them what their circumstances and necessities
-required, and our hearts did not become like the nether millstone, our
-remorse must prove a thorn in our flesh, piercing us sharply, and
-filling our days with regret.
-
-There is an enduring tenderness in the love of a mother to her son that
-transcends all other affections of the heart. It is neither to be
-chilled by selfishness, weakened by worthlessness, nor stifled by
-ingratitude. She will sacrifice every comfort to his convenience; she
-will surrender every pleasure to his enjoyment; she will glory in his
-fame, and exult in his prosperity. If misfortune overtake him, he will
-be the dearer to her from misfortune; and if disgrace settles upon his
-name, she will still love and cherish him in spite of his disgrace. If
-all the world besides cast him off, she will be all the world to him.
-
-A father may turn his back on his child, brothers and sisters may become
-inveterate enemies, husbands may desert their wives, wives their
-husbands; but a mother's love endures through all. In good repute, in
-bad repute, in the face of the world's condemnation, a mother still
-lives on and still hopes that her child may turn from his evil ways and
-repent; still she remembers his infant smile that ever filled her bosom
-with rapture, the merry laugh, the joyful shout of his childhood, the
-opening promise of his youth; and thinking of these, she never can be
-brought to think him all unworthy.
-
-Young man, speak kindly to your mother, and ever courteously and
-tenderly of her. But a little while and you shall see her no more
-forever. Her eye is dim, her form bent, and her shadow falls grave-ward.
-Others may love you when she has passed away—a kind-hearted sister,
-perhaps, or she whom of all the world you chose for a partner—she may
-love you warmly, passionately; children may love you fondly; but never
-again, never, while time is yours, shall the love of woman be to you as
-that of your old, trembling mother has been. Alas! how little do we
-appreciate a mother's tenderness while living! How heedless are we in
-youth of all her anxious tenderness! But when she is dead and gone, when
-the cares and coldness of the world come withering to our hearts, when
-we experience how hard it is to find true sympathy, how few love us for
-ourselves, how few will befriend us in misfortune, then it is that we
-think of the mother we have lost.
-
-The loss of a parent is always felt. Even though age and infirmities may
-have incapacitated them from taking an active part in the cares of the
-family, still they are rallying points around which affection and
-obedience, and a thousand tender endeavors to please, concentrate. They
-are like the lonely star before us: neither its heat nor light are any
-thing to us in themselves, yet the shepherd would feel his heart sad if
-he missed it when he lifts his eye to the brow of the mountains over
-which it rises when the sun descends.
-
-Over the grave of a friend, of a brother or a sister we would plant the
-primrose, emblematical of youth; but over that of a mother we would let
-the green grass shoot up unmolested; for there is something in the
-simple covering which nature spreads upon the grave which well becomes
-the abiding place of decaying age. Oh, a mother's grave! It is indeed a
-sacred spot. It may be retired from the noise of business, and unnoticed
-by the stranger; but to our heart how dear!
-
-The love we should bear to a parent is not to be measured by years, nor
-annihilated by distance, nor forgotten when they sleep in dust. Marks of
-age may appear in our homes and on our persons, but the memory of a
-beloved parent is more enduring than that of time itself. Who has stood
-by the grave of a mother and not remembered her pleasant smiles, kind
-words, earnest prayer, and assurance expressed in a dying hour? Many
-years may have passed, memory may be treacherous in other things, but
-will reproduce with freshness the impressions once made by a mother's
-influence. Why may we not linger where rests all that was earthly of a
-beloved parent? It may have a restraining influence upon the wayward,
-prove a valuable incentive to increased faithfulness, encourage hope in
-the hour of depression, and give fresh inspiration to Christian life.
-
-The mother's love is indeed the golden cord which binds youth to age;
-and he is still but a child, however time may have furrowed his cheek or
-silvered his brow, who can yet recall with a softened heart the fond
-devotion or the gentle chidings of the best friend that God ever gave
-us. Round the idea of mother the mind of a man clings with fond
-affection. It is the first deep thought stamped upon our infant heart,
-when yet soft and capable of receiving the most profound impressions;
-and the after feelings of the world are more or less light in
-comparison. Even in old age we look back to that feeling as the sweetest
-we have known through life.
-
-Our passions and our willfulness may lead us far from the object of our
-filial love; we may come even to pain their heart, to oppose their
-wishes, to violate their commands. We may become wild, headstrong, or
-angry at their counsels or oppositions; but when death has stilled their
-monitory voices, and nothing but silent memory remains to recapitulate
-their virtues and deeds, affection, like a flower broken to the ground
-by a past storm, lifts up her head and smiles away our tears. When the
-early period of our loss forces memory to be silent, fancy takes her
-place, and twines the image of our dead parents with a garland of
-graces, beauties, and virtues, which we doubt not they possessed.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: INFANCY.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Infancy, the morning of life! How beautiful it is! How filled with great
-responsibilities! An immortal soul commences its existence. A life,
-beginning in time, but capable of growing brighter when time is ended
-and eternity begun, commences to note the passing hours.
-
-We welcome the infant with joy, and congratulate the parents, and we do
-well; but to an angel, who can clearly understand the infinite value of
-the life just commenced, the heights of happiness to which it may
-ascend, the depths of misery to which it may be brought, it must seem a
-moment so deeply freighted with solemn meaning as to dispel all
-expressions of joy, save only of a subdued and chastened kind.
-
-Infancy has its hours of anxiety and trials for the parents, but it has
-also its hours of compensating joys. When sickness is in the midst, and
-it seems as if the cradle song would be exchanged for a dirge, what
-utter wretchedness of heart is the parent's portion! A mother watching
-the palpitating frame of her child as life ebbs slowly away evokes the
-sympathy of the sternest. A child dying dies but once, but the mother
-dies a hundred times. A mother mourning by the grave of her first-born,
-and strewing flowers over a coffined form instead of kisses on a warm
-brow, is one of the deepest spectacles of human woe. These are the dark
-shades, the night scenes of the parents' experience; but it has its
-richer, deeper, and more inspiring history, its seasons of comfort and
-delight, when the little child, insensibly, perhaps, draws the parents
-into a higher and a better life. What a sense of delicious
-responsibility fills the parents' hearts as they realize that in their
-hands and under their influence is to be molded a character, that they
-are the ones to carefully watch the unfolding of a human life, the
-development of a human soul.
-
-How earnestly should they seek to set a watch over their lips, to guard
-well their thoughts and actions, to surround the child with such an air
-of refined, intelligent, loving kindness that its young life shall as
-naturally grow into a youth of beauty and a noble manhood or true
-womanhood as that the bud on the rose-bush expands to the gorgeous
-flower that excites universal admiration. Welcome to the parents the
-puny struggler, strong in his weakness, his little arms more
-irresistible than the soldier's, his lips touched with persuasion which
-Chatham and Pericles in manhood had not. His unaffected lamentation when
-he lifts up his voice on high, or, more beautiful, the sobbing
-child—the face all liquid grief, as he tries to swallow his
-vexation—soften all hearts to pity and to mirthful and clamorous
-compassion.
-
-The parent's duty commences at the birth of the child. There is
-importance even in the handling of infancy. If it is unchristian it will
-beget unchristian states and feelings. If it is gentle, even patient and
-loving, it prepares a mood and temper like its own. Then how careful to
-banish the cross word, the impatient gesture! Let kind and loving tones
-only fall on its ears, and only gentle hands assist it in its little
-wants. There is scarcely room to doubt that all most crabbed, resentful,
-passionate characters—all most even, lovely, firm, and true ones—are
-prepared in a great degree by the handling of the nursery. The biography
-of many persons, faithfully written, would ascribe to the training of
-early years the molding not only of youthful character, but the more
-matured forms of mental and moral development of after years. The
-influence thus exerted in the early days of infancy is often the almost
-hopeless "casting of bread upon the waters"—often not found in any of
-its favorable developments until after "many days." The cares of the
-world and the evil example of others often choke the word of a good
-mother, and destroy its vitality; but not unfrequently it will be found,
-like seed long buried in the earth, to spring up to remembrance in
-active life, and the counsels imparted to the "infant of days" be found
-to influence and control the whole destiny of the man of mature years
-and gray hairs.
-
-As it is a law of our being that all, even the most feeble and
-insignificant, exert a reciprocal influence on all around them, then an
-infant exerts a great modifying influence on the elder men and women
-around it. It recalls them from the contemplation of the stern realities
-of life to its innocent phases, from disdainful, self-reliant pride to
-trustful confidence. Hearts that but for the smile of innocence on the
-prattling lips of infancy had grown callous beat once more in sympathy
-with the distressed around them. The feeble clasp of well-nigh helpless
-hands is sometimes powerful enough to turn strong men from the road to
-ruin. An infant in his cradle is king, and wields his power over all who
-come near him.
-
-Infants are the poetry of the world; the fresh flowers of our hearts and
-homes; little conjurers, with the magic of their natural ways, working
-by their spells what delights and enriches all ranks and equalizes the
-different classes of society. Every infant comes into the world, like a
-delegated prophet, the harbinger and herald of good tidings, whose
-office it is to make young again hearts well-nigh wearied with the cares
-of years. A child warms and softens the heart by its gentle presence; it
-enriches the soul by new feeling, and it awakens within it what is
-favorable to virtue. An infant is a beam of light, a fountain of love, a
-teacher, whose lessons few can resist. They recall us from much that
-engenders and encourages selfishness, that freezes the affections,
-roughens the manners, and indurates the heart. They brighten the home,
-deepen love, invigorate exertion, infuse courage, and vivify and sustain
-the charities of life.
-
-An infant finds a place in the hearts of all people. The selfish and
-proud open their hearts to its silent influence. The aged, who are
-standing near the end of the journey of life, have the scenes of their
-younger days called up afresh by the child's artless ways, and in its
-company grow young again. The disconsolate seem to catch a fresh gleam
-of hope when they see the confiding ways of the little child, and take
-heart again.
-
-It would seem fitting that nature should exempt little children from
-sickness and death, but, alas! impartial fate, which,
-
- "With equal pace,
- Knocks at the palace as the cottage gate,"
-
-is no respecter of age. What a great hush falls on the ear, like a pall,
-and an untold sadness settles over the heart when the little child is
-sick. Is it not strange that such a wee bit of a thing should have the
-power to change every thing, making the sunshine that but yesterday
-played in and out of the windows so merrily and bright seem such a
-mockery to-day, changing the joyous tones of the other children into
-funeral notes? Why is it that the soft winds, which but lately seemed
-burdened with joy, and came softly whispering of pleasant dells, of
-flowing streams, of flowery banks, to-day seem strangely sighing, to
-have exchanged its joy for sorrow?
-
-But such is the spell that baby has woven, knitting itself into the very
-meshes of our hearts in such a quiet, subduing manner that we scarcely
-know how dear it is until the little form lies still and prostrate.
-Great as is the influence of the little child while living it has also a
-sweet and sacred influence when its brief life is over and the solemn
-"dust unto dust" and "ashes unto ashes" has been said over the little
-mound in the church-yard.
-
-Sweet places for pure thought and holy meditation are these little
-graves. They are depositories of the mother's sweetest joy, unfolded
-buds of innocence, humanity nipped by the frosts of time ere yet a
-canker-worm of corruption has nestled among its embryo petals.
-
-Callous, indeed, must be the heart of him who can stand by a little
-grave-side and not have the holiest emotions of the soul awakened to
-thoughts of purity and joy, which belong alone to God and heaven. The
-mute preacher at his feet tells of a life begun and ended without a
-stain; and surely if this be vouchsafed to mortality, how much more pure
-and holier must be the spirit-land, enlightened by the sun of infinite
-goodness, from whence emanated the soul of that brief sojourner among
-us! How swells the soul with joy when standing by the earth-beds of lost
-little ones, sorrowful because a sweet treasure has been taken away,
-joyful because that sweet jewel glitters in the diadem of the redeemed.
-
-Such, then, is infancy. 'Tis the brief morning hour which precedes the
-busy day. It may be grand and beautiful, while its after life may but be
-dark and lowering, going out at last with wailing winds and weeping
-storms. Or it may be bleak and dreary, only at last to break forth into
-the full glory of the beauteous Summer day. But whatever its present
-state care and trouble and sorrow are sure to await it. So train it,
-then, that it shall expect them and look to the only true source for aid
-and assistance for the trials that lie in store for it.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: CHILDHOOD.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Childhood, after reason has begun her sway, seems to us the happiest
-season of life. It is also the critical period. At this time they
-receive those impressions and contract those habits which impel them
-towards the good and true or towards the evil and false.
-
- [Illustration: Engraved & Printed by Illman Brothers.
- MOTHER AND CHILD.]
-
-The child's soul is without character. It is a rudimental existence,
-pure as the driven snow—beautiful as a cherub angel, spotless,
-guileless, and innocent. It is the chart of a man yet to be filled up
-with the elements of a character. These elements are first outlined by
-the parents. With what delicacy should they use the pencil of personal
-influence! The soul is soft, and the lines they make are deep and not
-easily erased. It is a man they form. Responsible work! It is an
-immortal soul they work upon, destined to survive the wreck of matter
-and the crush of worlds, and to show in its character forever some
-distant trace, at least, of their work.
-
-Never believe any thing that concerns children to be of no importance. A
-hasty word is of consequence. The little things that they see and hear
-about them mold them for eternity. Observe how very quick the child's
-eye is to perceive the meaning of looks, voices, and motions. It peruses
-all faces, colors, and sounds. Every sentiment that looks into its eye
-is reflected therefrom, and plays in miniature on its countenance. The
-tear that steals down the cheek of a mother's suppressed grief gathers
-the little infantile face into a sob. With a wondering silence it
-studies the mother in her prayers, and looks up with her in that
-exploring watch which signifies unspoken prayer. If the child be tended
-with impatience, or coolly and with a lack of motherly gentleness, it
-straightway shows by its action that it, too, feels the sting of just
-that which is felt towards it. And thus it is angered by anger, fretted
-by fretfulness, irritated by irritation, having impressed upon it just
-that kind of impatience or ill-nature which is felt towards it, and
-growing faithfully into the bad mold as by a fixed law.
-
-However apparently trivial the influences which contribute to form the
-character of the child, they endure through life. Those impulses to
-conduct which last the longest and are rooted the deepest always have
-their origin near our birth. It is there that the germs of virtue or
-vice, of feeling or sentiment, are first implanted which determine the
-character for life. It is in childhood that the mind is most open to
-impression, and ready to be kindled by the first spark that flies into
-it. The first thing continues always with the child. The first joy, the
-first failure, the first achievement, the first misadventure, paint the
-foreground of life.
-
-Influence is as quiet and imperceptible on the child's mind as the
-falling of snowflakes on the meadows. One can not tell the hour when the
-human mind is not in the condition of receiving impressions from
-exterior moral forces. In innumerable instances the most secret and
-unnoticed influences have been in operation for months, and even years,
-to break down the strongest barriers of the human heart, and work out
-its moral ruin while yet the fondest parents and friends have been
-unaware of the working of such unseen agents of evil.
-
-Children are more easily led to be good by examples of loving kindness
-and tales of well-doing in others than threatened into obedience by
-records of sin, crime, and punishment. Then strive to impress on the
-child's mind sincerity, truth, honesty, benevolence, and their kindred
-virtues, and the welfare of your child, not only for this life, but for
-the life to come, will be assured. What a responsibility it is to form a
-creature, the frailest and feeblest that heaven has made, into the
-intelligent and fearless sovereign of the whole animated universe, the
-interpreter, adorer, and almost representative of Divinity!
-
-There is much mistaken kindness in the management of children. The law
-of love is great, but it showeth not its full strength, save when united
-with kindness. Make your children helpful and useful, and you make them
-happy. Let them early form habits of neatness, and when you are weary
-you will not have to wait on their carelessness.
-
-Teach them to give you courteous speech and manners, and they will live
-to honor you. Take pains to have the home attractions stronger than can
-come from outside influences. It is a sad fact that few children confide
-in their parents. The parents must take an interest in them, and draw
-them to their hearts instead of repelling them away. There is no mystery
-in attaching children to one's self. If you love them, they will love
-you. If you make much of them, they will make much of you. They can
-readily pick out the children's friend among many. They have a quick way
-of discerning who really love them and who care for them.
-
-Parents do not think how far a word of praise will ofttimes go with
-children. Praise is sunshine to a child, and there is no child who does
-not need it. It is the high reward of one's struggle to do right. Many a
-sensitive child hungers for commendation. Many a child, starving for the
-praise which parents should give, runs off eagerly after the designing
-flattery of others. To withhold praise where it is due is dishonest,
-and, in the case of a child, such a course often leaves a stinging sense
-of injustice. One may as well think to rear flowers in frost as to think
-of educating children successfully in rebuff and constant criticism.
-Judicious flattery is almost one of the necessities of existence with
-children. Indiscriminate flattery is, of course, bad. When it becomes
-necessary to reprove children, use the gentlest form of address under
-the circumstances. Reproof must not fall like a violent storm, breaking
-down and making those to droop whom it is meant to cherish and refresh.
-It must descend as the dew upon the tender herb, or like melting flakes
-of snow. The softer it falls, the longer it dwells upon, and the deeper
-it sinks into, the mind.
-
-Never reprove the little ones before strangers; for children are as
-sensitive, if not more so, than older persons, and wish strangers to
-think well of them. When reproved before any one with whom they are not
-well acquainted, their vanity is wounded. They have self-respect, and
-such mortification of it is dangerous. Praise spurs a child on to
-earnest effort; blame, when administered before visitors, takes away the
-power of doing well.
-
-It is the parents' duty to make their children's childhood full of love
-and childhood's proper joyousness. Not all the appliances that wealth
-can buy are necessary to the free and happy unfolding of childhood in
-body, mind, and heart. But children must have love inside the house, and
-fresh air and good play and companionship outside; otherwise young life
-runs the danger of withering and growing stunted, or, at best,
-prematurely old and turned inward on itself. There is something in
-loving dependent children, in tender care for them, which bestows upon
-the soul the most enriching of its experience. They make us tender and
-sympathetic, and a thousand times reward us for all we do for them. We
-are indebted to them for constant incentives to noble living; for the
-perpetual reminder that we do not live for ourselves alone. For their
-sake we are admonished to put from us the debasing appetite, the
-unworthy impulse; to gather into our lives every noble and heroic
-quality, every tender and attractive grace. We owe them gratitude for
-the dark hour their presence has brightened; for the helplessness and
-dependence which have won us from ourselves; for the faith and trust
-which it is evermore their mission to renew; for their kisses, wet with
-tears, placed on brows that, but for their caressing, had furrowed into
-frowns.
-
-The gleeful laugh of happy children is the best home music, and the
-graceful figures of childhood are the best statuary. They are
-well-springs of pleasure, messengers of peace and love, resting-places
-for innocence, links between angels and men. Their eyes, those clear
-wells of undefiled thought,—what is more beautiful? Full of hope, love,
-and curiosity, they meet your own. In prayer, how earnest; in joy, how
-sparkling; in sympathy, how tender! The man or woman who never tried the
-companionship of a little child has carelessly passed by one of the
-greatest pleasures of life, as one passes a rare flower without plucking
-or knowing its value. A home, and no children,—it is like a lantern,
-and no candle; a garden, and no flowers; a vine, and no grapes; a brook,
-and no water gurgling and gushing in its channels.
-
-Nature affords striking proofs of foresight and wisdom in making the
-bonds of parental sympathy so invincibly strong and lasting. During
-childhood and youth, and even afterwards, when these charming epochs of
-life have passed away, the ties of constancy and attachment continue to
-prevail. Were not the chords of love thus strengthened, they would
-frequently be snapped asunder; for the severest trials which the world
-knows are those which assail the parental heart and pierce it with the
-deepest sorrows.
-
-How fleeting are the happiness and innocent guilelessness of childhood!
-The years as they come bring with them intelligence and experience; but
-they take with them, in their resistless course, the innocent pleasures
-of childhood's years. Then deal gently, patiently, and kindly with them.
-You may be nearly over the rough pathway of life yourselves; make the
-only time of life that they can call happy as pleasant as possible. "Our
-children," says Madame de Stael, "who are tenderly reared by us, are
-soon destined for others than ourselves. They soon stride rapidly
-forward in the career of life, while we fall slowly back. They soon
-begin to regard their parents in the light of memory and to look upon
-others in the light of hope."
-
-They will not trouble you long. Children grow up; nothing on earth grows
-so fast as children. It was but yesterday and that lad was playing with
-tops, a buoyant boy. He is a man now. There is no more childhood for him
-or for us. Life has claimed him. When a beginning is made, it is like a
-raveling stocking; stitch by stitch gives way till all are gone. The
-house has not a child left in it; there is no more noise in the hall; no
-boys rush in, pell-mell; it is very orderly now. There are no more
-skates or sleds, bats, balls, or strings left scattered about. There are
-no more gleeful laughs of happy girls, or dolls left to litter the best
-room. There is no delay for sleeping folks; there is no longer any task
-before you lie down. But the mother's heart is heavy, and the father's
-house is lonely.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: BROTHER AND SISTER.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-The affections that exist between the members of the same family afford
-a pleasing spectacle of human happiness. That which exists between
-brother and sister should be assiduously cultivated. It is a beautiful
-and lovely feeling, and seems to be wholly angelic in its thoughts and
-feelings. It must necessarily be a pure, spiritual love. It arises, not
-from a sense of gratitude, or for favors received, or from any thing
-save the endearing relationship of family. It rests not on any thing but
-a spiritual affinity of soul. It should be cultivated as one of the
-sweetest plants in the garden of the heart. It should be watered every
-morning and evening with the dews of good nature, and sunned all day
-with the light of kindness. It should hear nothing but loving and tender
-words, even the dulcet music of home; see nothing but smiles and the
-tokens of confidence and sympathy, and know nothing but its own spirit
-of tenderness and unity.
-
-How large and cherished a place does a good sister's love always hold in
-the grateful memory of one who has been blessed with the benefit of this
-relation! How many are there who, in the changes of mature years, have
-found a sister's love their ready and adequate resource! With what a
-sense of security is confidence reposed in a good sister, and with what
-assurance that it will be uprightly and considerately given is her
-counsel sought! How intimate is the friendship of such a brother and
-sister not widely separated in age from one another!
-
-What a reliance for warning, caution, and sympathy has each secured in
-each! How many are the brothers who, when thrown into circumstances of
-temptation, have found the thought of a sister's love a constant, holy
-presence, rebuking every wayward thought! How many brothers are there
-from whom death separated the sister years ago who yet feel her
-influence thrown around them like sweet incense from an unseen censer;
-who are arrested, when just about to take a downward step, by the memory
-of a reproving look from eyes that have long been closed; who have
-pursued their weary path of duty, cheered by the remembrance of a smile
-from lips that will never smile again!
-
-Who can tell the thoughts that cluster around the word sister? How ready
-she is to forgive the foibles of a brother! She never deserts him. In
-adversity she clings closely to him, and in trial she cheers him. When
-the bitter voice of reproach is poured in his ears she is ever ready to
-hush its hard tones, and to turn his attention away from its painful
-notes. Let him move in pleasant paths, she hangs clusters of flowers
-about him.
-
-In watching his favored career and listening to his eulogy she feels the
-purest satisfaction. The cold grave can not crush her affections for
-him—it outlives her tears and sighs; and hence she often wanders to the
-spot where he reposes with the fragrant rose-bush and creeping
-honeysuckle, and plants them on his tomb; and who will dare to affirm
-her love perishes when she passes away from earth? May it not live far
-off in the glorious land, increasing in fervor and intensity as the
-years of eternity pass away?
-
-Affection does not beget weakness, nor is it effeminate for a brother to
-be firmly attached to a sister. Such a boy will make a noble and brave
-man. The young man who was accustomed to kiss his sweet, innocent sister
-night and morning as they met shows its influence upon him. He will
-never forget it, and when he shall take some one to his heart as his
-wife she shall reap the golden fruits thereof. The young man who is in
-the habit of giving his arm to his sister as they walk to and from
-church will never leave his wife to find her way as best she can. He who
-has been trained to see that his sister was seated before he sought his
-own will never mortify a neglected wife in the presence of strangers.
-And the young man who frequently handed his sister to her chair at the
-table will never have cause to blush as he sees some gentleman extend to
-his wife the courtesy she knows is due from him.
-
-The intercourse of brother and sister forms an important element in the
-happy influence of home. A boisterous or a selfish boy may try to
-domineer over the weaker or more dependent girl. But generally the
-latter exerts a softening influence. The brother animates and heartens;
-the sister modifies and refines. The vine-tree and its sustaining elm
-are the emblems of such a relation; and by such agencies our "sons may
-become like plants grown up in youth, and our daughters like
-corner-stones polished after the similitude of a temple."
-
-Sisters scarcely know the influence they have over their brothers. A
-young man is pretty much what his sister and young lady friends choose
-to make him. If sisters are watchful and affectionate they may in
-various ways lead them along till their characters are formed, and then
-a high respect for ladies and a manly self-respect will keep them from
-mingling in low society.
-
-Girls, especially those who are members of a large family, have a great
-influence at home, where brothers delight in their sisters, and where
-parents look fondly down on their daughters. Girls have much in their
-power with regard to those boys; they have in their power to make them
-gentler, truer, purer; to give them higher opinion of woman; to soften
-their manner and ways; to tone down rough places, and shape sharp,
-angular corners. They should interest themselves in their pursuits, and
-show them by every means in their power that they do not consider them
-and their doings beneath their notice.
-
-But few sisters realize how much they have to do with the welfare of
-their brothers—how much it is in their power to win them to the right
-modes of thoughts and actions by little acts of sisterly attentions. If
-they would but spare an hour now and then from their peculiar employment
-to their boyish sports, and not turn contemptuously away from the books
-and amusements in which they delight, they would soon find how a gentle
-word would turn off a sharp answer; how a genial look would effectually
-reprove an unfitting expression; how gratefully a small kindness would
-be received, and how unbounded would be the power for good they would
-obtain by a continuance of such conduct.
-
-Fortunate is the family that possesses such an elder sister. The mother
-confides in her, the father takes pride in her ability to aid and cheer
-the household, and the younger ones lean upon her. By her counsels, her
-example, her influence, she may do as much as the parents to give to the
-family life. She is at once companion and counselor for the younger
-members, since separated by only a brief interval from the sports of
-childhood she can sympathize easily with the little wants and little
-griefs that fill the child's heart to overflowing, and show it how to
-compass its desires and forget its sorrows. A short girlhood is usually
-the allotment of the oldest daughter; but this is more than made up to
-her in the long and delightful companionship she has with her mother, in
-the sense she is made to have of her own importance in the family, and
-the unusual capability she is obliged by the force of circumstances to
-acquire and display.
-
-It is a law of our being that no improvement that takes place in either
-of the sexes is confined to itself; each is the universal mirror to
-each, and the refinements of the one will always be in reciprocal
-proportion to the polish of the other. The brother and sister should
-grow up together, be educated at the same school, engage in the same
-sports, and, as far as practicable, in the same labors. Their joys and
-sorrows, tastes and aims, should be mutual as far as possible. The same
-moral lessons, obligations, and duties should bear upon them. It is an
-error that the youths of our land are separated in so many of the most
-important duties of life.
-
-Much evil is caused by mistaken opinions on this point. The girls are
-taught that it is not pretty to be with the boys and the boys that it is
-not manly to be with the girls, while at the same time the society of
-each is necessary for the best development of character in the other.
-When they do meet it is only for sport and nonsense, to cajole and
-deceive each other. Hence the good influence they should have upon each
-other is in a great measure lost. They are unacquainted with each other,
-know not each other's natures, and have but little interest in each
-other's business and duties.
-
-We want the girls to rival the boys in all that is good, refined, and
-ennobling. We want them to rival the boys, as they well can, in
-learning, in understanding, in all noble qualities of mind and heart,
-but not in any of the rougher qualities and traits. We want the girls to
-be gentle—not weak, but gentle—and kind and affectionate. We want to
-be sure that wherever a girl is there should be a sweet, subduing, and
-harmonizing influence of purity and truth and love pervading and
-hallowing from center to circumference the entire circle in which she
-moves. It is her mission to instruct the boys in all needful lessons of
-neatness and order, of patience and goodness.
-
-We want the boys to be gentle, courteous, and considerate towards their
-younger sisters; to be the protector and emulator of their virtues. We
-want to be sure that where there is a boy there will go forth the
-influence inspired by the courage of manly self-respect—a respect that
-keeps him from mingling in low society. We want him to be every whit a
-man, a fit friend and companion for true womanhood. We want to see them
-both enjoy the Spring-time of life, for this is the season of joy, of
-bliss, of strength, of pride; it is the treasury of life, in which
-nature stores up those riches which are for our future employment and
-profit. Youth is to age what the flower is to the fruit, the leaf to the
-tree, the sand to the glass. Hence we want to see them both so using the
-golden age of youth as to be able to reap a rich harvest in the years of
-maturity.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: MANHOOD.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Manhood is the isthmus between two extremes—the ripe, the fertile
-season of action, when alone we can hope to find the head to contrive
-united with the hand to execute.
-
-Each age has its peculiar duties and privileges, pleasures and pains.
-When young we trust ourselves too much; when old we trust others too
-little. Rashness is the error of youth, timid caution of age. In youth
-we build castles and plan for ourselves a course of action through life.
-As we approach old age we see more and more plainly that we are simply
-carried forward by a mighty torrent, borne here and there against our
-will. We then perceive how little control we have had in reality over
-our course; that our actions, resolves, and endeavors, which seemed to
-give such a guiding course to our life,
-
- "Are but eddies of the mighty stream
- That rolls to its appointed end."
-
-In childhood time goes by on leaden wings,—ten, twenty years, a
-life-time seems an endless period. At manhood we are surprised that time
-goes so rapidly; we then comprehend the fleeting period of life. In old
-age the years that are passed seem as a dream of the night, our life as
-a tale nearly told. Childhood is the season of dreams and high resolves;
-manhood, of plans and actions; age, of retrospection and regret.
-
-There is certainly no age more potential for good or evil than that of
-early manhood. The young men have, with much propriety, been denominated
-the flower of a country. To be a man and seem to be one are two
-different things. All young men should carefully consider what is meant
-by manhood. It does not consist in years simply, nor in form and figure.
-It lies above and beyond these things. It is the product of the
-cultivation of every power of the soul, and of every high spiritual
-quality naturally inherent or graciously supplemented. It should be the
-great object of living to attain this true manhood. There is no higher
-pursuit for the youth to propose to himself. He is standing at the
-opening gates of active life. There he catches the first glimpse of the
-possibilities in store for him. There he first perceives the duties that
-will shortly devolve upon him. What higher aim can he propose to himself
-than to act his part in life as becomes a man who lives not only for
-time but for eternity? How earnestly should he resolve to walk worthily
-in all that true manhood requires!
-
-There are certain claims, great and weighty, resting upon all young men
-which they can not shake off if they would. They grow out of those
-indissoluble relations which they sustain to society, and those
-invaluable interests—social, civil, and religious—with all the duties
-and responsibilities connected with them, which are soon to be
-transferred to their shoulders from the venerable fathers who have borne
-the burden and heat of the day. The various departments of business and
-trust, the pulpit and the bar, our courts of justice and halls of
-legislation, our civil, religious, and literary institutions, all, in
-short, that constitute society and go to make life useful and happy, are
-to be in their hands and under their control.
-
-Society, in committing to the young her interests and privileges,
-imposes upon them corresponding claims, and demands that they be
-prepared to fill with honor and usefulness the places which they are
-destined to occupy. Young men can not take a rational view of the
-station to which they are advancing, or of the duties that are coming
-upon them, without feeling deeply their need of high and peculiar
-qualifications.
-
-Every young man should come forward in life with a determination to do
-all the good he can, and to leave the world the better for his having
-lived in it. He should consider that he was not made for himself alone,
-but for society, for mankind, and for God. He should consider that he is
-a constituent, responsible member of the great family of man, and, while
-he should pay particular attention to the wants and welfare of those
-with whom he is immediately connected, he should accustom himself to
-send his thoughts abroad over the wide field of practical benevolence.
-
-There is within the young man an uprising of lofty sentiments which
-contribute to his elevation, and though there are obstacles to be
-surmounted and difficulties to be vanquished, yet with truth for his
-watchword, and relying on his own noble purposes and exertions, he may
-crown his brow with imperishable honors. He may never wear the warrior's
-crimson wreath, the poet's chaplet of bays, or the statesman's laurels;
-though no grand, universal truth may at his bidding stand confessed to
-the world; though it may never be his to bring to a successful issue a
-great political revolution; to be the founder of a republic which shall
-be a distinguished star in the constellation of nations; even more,
-though his name may never be heard beyond the narrow limits of his own
-neighborhood, yet is his mission none the less a high and noble one.
-
-In the moral and physical world not only the field of battle but also
-the cause of truth and virtue calls for champions, and the field for
-doing good is white unto the harvest. If he enlists in the ranks, and
-his spirits faint not, he may write his name among the stars of heaven.
-Beautiful lives have blossomed in the darkest places, as pure, white
-lilies, full of fragrance, sometimes bloom on the slimy, stagnant
-waters. No possession is so productive of real influence as a highly
-cultivated intellect. Wealth, birth, and official station may and do
-secure an external, superficial courtesy, but they never did and never
-can secure the reverence of the heart. It is only to the man of large
-and noble soul—to him who blends a cultivated mind with an upright
-heart—that men yield the tribute of deep and genuine respect. A man
-should never glory in that which is common to a beast; nor a wise man in
-that which is common to a fool; nor a good man in that which is common
-to a wicked man.
-
-Since it is in the intellect that we trace the source of all that is
-great and noble in man it follows that if any are ambitious to possess a
-true manhood they will be men of reflection, men whose daily acts are
-controlled by their judgment, men who recognize the fact that life is a
-real and earnest affair, that time is fleeting, and, consequently,
-resolve to waste none of it in frivolities; men whose life and
-conversation are indicative of that serious mien and deportment which
-well becomes those who have great interests committed to their charge,
-and who are determined that in so far as in them lies life with them
-shall be a success, who fully realize the importance of every step they
-may take, and, consequently, bring to it the careful consideration of a
-mind trained to think with precision.
-
-The man who thinks, reads, studies, and meditates has intelligence cut
-in his features, stamped on his brow, and gleaming in his eye. Thinking,
-not growth, makes perfect manhood. There are some who, though they are
-done growing, are only boys. The constitution may be fixed while the
-judgment is immature; the limbs may be strong while the reasoning is
-feeble. Many who can run and jump and bear any fatigue can not observe,
-can not examine, can not reason or judge, contrive or execute—they do
-not think. Such persons, though they may have the figure of a man and
-the years of a man, are not in possession of manhood; they will not
-acquire it until they learn to look beyond the present, and take broad
-and comprehensive views of their relations to society.
-
-As we often mistake glittering tinsel for solid gold, so we often
-mistake specious appearances for true worth and manhood. We are too
-prone to take professions and words in lieu of actions; too easily
-impressed with good clothes and polite bearings to inquire into the
-character and doings of the individual. Man should be rated, not by his
-hoards of gold, not by the simple or temporary influence he may for a
-time exert, but by his unexceptionable principles relative both to
-character and religion. Strike out these and what is he? A savage
-without sympathy! Take them away, and his manship is gone; he no longer
-lives in the image of his Creator. No smile gladdens his lips, no look
-of sympathy illumes his countenance to tell of love and charity for the
-woes of others.
-
-But let man go abroad with just principles, and what is he? An
-exhaustless fountain in a vast desert! A glorious sun, shining ever,
-dispelling every vestige of darkness. There is love animating his heart,
-sympathy breathing in every tone. Tears of pity—dew-drops of the
-soul—gather in his eye, and gush impetuously down his cheek. A good man
-is abroad, and the world knows and feels it. Beneath his smile lurks no
-degrading passion; within his heart there slumbers no guile. He is not
-exalted in mortal pride, not elevated in his own views, but honest,
-moral, and virtuous before the world. He stands throned on truth; his
-fortress is wisdom, and his dominion is the vast and limitless universe.
-Always upright, kind, and sympathizing; always attached to just
-principles, and actuated by the same, governed by the highest motives in
-doing good; these constitute his only true manliness.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: WOMANHOOD.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-It should be the highest ambition of every young woman to possess a true
-womanhood. Earth presents no higher object of attainment. To be a woman
-is the truest and best thing beneath the skies. A true woman exists
-independent of outward adornments. It is not wealth, or beauty of
-person, or connection, or station, or power of mind, or literary
-attainments, or variety and richness of outward accomplishments, that
-make the woman. These often adorn womanhood, as the ivy adorns the oak,
-but they should never be mistaken for the thing they adorn.
-
-The great error of womankind is that they take the shadow for the
-substance, the glitter for the gold, the heraldry and trappings of the
-world for the priceless essence of womanly worth which exists within the
-mind. Every young man, as a general rule, has some purpose laid down for
-the grand object of his life—some plan, for the accomplishment of which
-all his other actions are made to serve as auxiliaries. It is to be
-regretted that every young woman does not also have a set purpose of
-life—some grand aim, grand in its character. She should, in the first
-place, know what she is, what power she possesses, what influences are
-to go out from her, what position in life she was designed to fill, what
-duties are resting upon her, what she is capable of being, what fields
-of profit and pleasure are open to her, how much joy and pleasure she
-may find in a true life of womanly activity.
-
-When she has duly considered these things, she should then form the high
-purpose of being a true woman, and make every circumstance bend to her
-will for the accomplishment of this noble purpose. There can be no
-higher aim to set before herself. There is no nobler attainment this
-side of the spirit-land than lofty womanhood. There is no ambition more
-pure than that which craves this crown for her mortal brow. To be a
-genuine woman, full of womanly instincts and power, forming the
-intuitive genius of her penetrative soul, the subduing authority of her
-gentle yet resolute will, is to be a peer of earth's highest
-intelligence. All young women have this noble prize before them. They
-may all put on the glorious crown of womanhood. They may make their
-lives grand in womanly virtues.
-
-A true woman has a power, something peculiarly her own, in her moral
-influence, which, when duly developed, makes her queen over a wide realm
-of spirit. But this she can possess only as her powers are cultivated.
-It is cultivated women that wield the scepter of authority among men.
-Wherever cultivated woman dwells, there is refinement, intellect, moral
-power, life in its highest form. To be a cultivated woman she must
-commence early, and make this the grand aim of her life. Whether she
-work or play, travel or remain at home, converse with friends or study
-books, gaze at flowers or toil in the kitchen, visit the pleasure party
-or the sanctuary of God, she keeps this object before her mind, and
-taxes all her powers for its attainment.
-
-Every young woman should also determine to do something for the honor
-and elevation of her sex. Her powers of mind and body should be applied
-to a good end. Let her resolve to help with the weight of her
-encouragement and counsels her sisters who are striving nobly to be
-useful, to remove as far as possible the obstacles in their way. Let her
-call to her aid all the forces of character she can command to enable
-her to persist in being a woman of the true stamp. In every class of
-society the young women should awaken to their duty. They have a great
-work to do. It is not enough that they should be what their mothers
-were—they must be more. The spirit of the times calls on women for a
-higher order of character and life. Will they heed the call? Will they
-emancipate themselves from the fetters of custom and fashion, and come
-up, a glorious company, to the possession of a vigorous, virtuous, noble
-womanhood, that shall shed new light upon the world and point the way to
-a divine life?
-
-Woman's influence is the chief anchor of society, and this influence is
-purifying the world, and the work she has already accomplished will last
-forever. No costly marble can build a more enduring monument to her
-memory than the impress she makes on her own household. The changing
-scenes of life may hurl the genius of man from eminence to utter ruin;
-for his life hangs on the fabric of public opinion. But the honest form
-of a true mother reigns _queen_ in the hearts of her children forever.
-
-Man's admirers may be greater, but woman holds her kindred by a silken
-cord of familiar kindness, strengthened and extended by each little
-courtesy of a life-time. Man may make his monument of granite or of
-marble, woman hers of immortality. Man may enjoy here, she will enjoy
-hereafter. Man may move the rough crowd by his eloquence, woman will
-turn his coarseness into a cheerful life. Man may make laws and control
-legislatures, woman will mold their minds in the school-room and be the
-author of their grandest achievements. Cruelty she despises, and it
-lessens at her bidding; purity she admires, and it grows in her
-presence; music she loves, and her home is full of its melody; happiness
-is her herald, and she infuses a world with a desire for enjoyment.
-Without her, cabins would be fit for dwellings, furs fit for clothing,
-and all the arts and improvements would be wanting in stimulus and
-ambition; for the world is moved and civilization is advanced by the
-silent influence of woman.
-
-This influence is due not exclusively to the fascination of her charms,
-but to the strength, uniformity, and consistency of her virtues,
-maintained under so many sacrifices and with so much fortitude and
-heroism. Without these endowments and qualifications, external
-attractions are nothing; but with them, their power is irresistible.
-Beauty and virtue are the crowning attributes bestowed by nature upon
-woman, and the bounty of Heaven more than compensates for the injustice
-of man. The possession of these advantages secures to her universally
-that degree of homage and consideration which renders her independent of
-the effect of unequal and arbitrary laws. But it is not the incense of
-idol-worship which is most acceptable to the heart of woman; it is the
-courtesy, and just appreciation of her proper position, merit, and
-character. Woman surpasses man in the quickness of her perception and in
-the right direction of her sympathies; and thus it is justly due to her
-praise that the credit of her acknowledged ascendency is personal amidst
-the increasing degeneracy of man.
-
-Woman is the conservator of morality and religion. Her moral worth holds
-man in some restraint, and preserves his ways from becoming inhumanly
-corrupt. Mighty is the power of woman in this respect. Every virtue in
-woman has its influence on the world. A brother, husband, friend, or son
-is touched by its sunshine. Its mild beneficence is not lost. A virtuous
-woman in the seclusion of her home, breathing the sweet influence of
-virtue into the hearts and lives of its loved ones, is an evangel of
-goodness to the world. She is a pillar of the external kingdom of right.
-She is a star, shining in the moral firmament. She is a priestess,
-administering at the fountain of life. Every prayer she breathes is
-answered, in a greater or less degree, in the hearts and lives of those
-she loves. Her heart is an altar-fire, where religion acquires strength
-to go out on its mission of mercy.
-
-We can not overestimate the strength and power of woman's moral and
-religious character. The world would go to ruin without her. With all
-our ministers and Churches, and Bibles and sermons, man would be a
-prodigal without the restraint of woman's virtue and the consecration of
-her religion. Woman first lays her hand on our young faces; she plants
-the first seeds; she makes the first impressions; and all along through
-life she scatters the good seeds of her kindness, and sprinkles them
-with the dews of her piety.
-
-A woman of true intelligence is a blessing at home, in her circle of
-friends, and in society. Wherever she goes she carries with her a
-health-giving influence. There is a beautiful harmony about her
-character that at once inspires a respect which soon warms into love.
-The influence of such a woman upon society is of the most salutary kind.
-She strengthens right principles in the virtuous, incites the selfish
-and indifferent to good actions, and gives to the light and frivolous a
-taste after something more substantial than the frothy gossip with which
-they seek to recreate themselves.
-
-Many a woman does the work of her life without being noticed or seen by
-the world. The world sees a family reared to virtue, one child after
-another growing into Christian manhood or womanhood, and at last it sees
-them gathered around the grave where the mother that bore them rests
-from her labors. But the world has never seen the quiet woman laboring
-for her children, making their clothes, providing them food, teaching
-them their prayers, and making their homes comfortable and happy.
-
-A woman's happiness flows to her from sources and through channels
-different from those that give origin and conduct to the happiness of
-man, and in a measure will continue to do so forever. Her faculties bend
-their exercise toward different issues, her social and spiritual notions
-demand a different aliment. Her powers are eminently practical. She has
-a rich store of practical good sense, an ample fund of tact, skill,
-shrewdness, inventiveness, and management. It is her work to form the
-young mind, to give it direction and instruction, to develop its love
-for the good and true. It is her work to make home happy, to nourish all
-the virtues, and instill all the sweetness which builds men up into good
-citizens. She is the consoler of the world, attending it in sickness;
-her society soothes the world after its toils, and rewards it for its
-perplexities. They receive the infant when it enters upon its existence,
-and drape the cold form of the aged when life is passed. They assuage
-the sorrows of childhood, and minister to the poor and distressed.
-
-Loveliness of spirit is woman's scepter and sword; for it is both the
-emblem and the instrument of her conquest. Her influence flows from her
-sensibilities, her gentleness, and her tenderness. It is this which
-disarms prejudice, and awakens confidence and affection in all who come
-within her sphere, which makes her more powerful to accomplish what her
-will has resolved than if nature had endowed her with the strength of a
-giant. As a wife and mother, woman is seen in her most sacred and
-dignified aspect. As such she has great influence over the characters of
-individuals, over the condition of families, and over the destinies of
-empires.
-
-How transitory are the days of girlhood! The time when the cheerful
-smile, the merry laugh, and the exulting voice were so many expressions
-of happiness,—how quickly it passed! How time has multiplied its
-scores, and accumulated its unwelcome effects against the charms and
-attractions of youth! But if the heart be chilled, if the cheek be more
-pale, and the eye less bright; if the outward adornment of the temple of
-love have become faded and dimmed, there may be yet inwardly preserved
-the shrine where is laid up the sacred treasures of loveliness and
-purity, gentleness and grace, the attempered qualities of tried and
-perfected virtues: as if the blossoms of early childhood had ripened
-into the mellow and precious fruits of autumnal time.
-
-But in another and better sense a good woman never grows old. Years may
-pass over her head, but if benevolence and virtue dwell in her heart she
-is as cheerful as when the spring of life first opened to her view. When
-we look at a good woman we never think of her age; she looks as happy as
-when the rose first bloomed on her cheek. In her neighborhood she is a
-friend and benefactor; in the Church, the devout worshiper and exemplary
-Christian. Who does not love and respect the woman who has spent her
-days in acts of kindness and mercy, who has been the friend of sorrowing
-ones, whose life has been a scene of kindness and love, devotion to
-truth and religion. Such a woman can not grow old; she will always be
-fresh and beautiful in her spirits and active in her humble deeds of
-mercy and benevolence.
-
-If the young lady desires to retain the bloom and beauty of youth, let
-her not yield to the way of fashion and folly; let her love truth and
-virtue; and to the close of her life will she retain those feelings
-which now make life appear a garden of sweets ever fresh and green.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: HOME HARMONIES.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Can there be a more important theme to claim the attention of thinking
-parents than that of home harmonies, how to make the home life so
-pleasant and full of kindly courtesy that its members will look to it as
-the pleasantest spot on earth, and find their highest enjoyment in
-advancing the innocent pleasures of home? Is it not the duty of parents
-to make their homes as pleasant as they possibly can for their children
-and their mates? Should they not strive to have them resound with the
-fun and frolic of childhood, and enlivened with the cheerfulness of
-happy social life? For too many homes are like the frame of a harp that
-stands without strings. In form and outline they suggest music, but no
-melody arises from the empty spaces; and thus it happens that home is
-unattractive, dreary, and dull.
-
-And do you, fathers and mothers, you who have sons and daughters growing
-up around you, do you ever think of your responsibility of keeping alive
-the home feeling in the hearts of your children? Remember that within
-your means the obligation rests upon you of making their homes the
-pleasantest spot on earth, to make the word home to them the synonym of
-happiness. Go to as great length as you consistently can to provide for
-them those amusements, which, if not provided there, entice them
-elsewhere. You had better spend your money thus than in ostentation and
-luxury, and far better than to amass a fortune for your children to
-spend in the future. The richest legacy you can leave your child is a
-life-long, inextinguishable, and fragrant recollection of home when time
-and death have forever dissolved the enchantment.
-
-Give him that, and on the strength of that will he make his way in the
-world; but let his recollection of home be repulsive, and the fortune
-you may leave him will be a poor compensation for the loss of that
-tenderness of heart and purity of life, which not only a pleasant home,
-but the memory of one would have secured. Remember, also, that while
-they will feel grateful to you for the money you may leave them, and
-will think of you when gone, they will go to your green graves and bless
-your very ashes for that sanctuary of quiet comfort and refinement, to
-which you may, if you possess the means, transform your home. The memory
-of the beautiful and happy homes of childhood will in after years come
-to the weary mind like strains of low, sweet music, and in its silent
-influence for good will prove of infinite more value than houses,
-stocks, and money.
-
-Too frequently the effect of prosperity is to render the heart cold and
-selfish; but the heart will never forget the hallowed influence of happy
-home memories. It will be an evening enjoyment to which the lapse of
-years will only add new sweetness. Such a home memory is a constant
-inspiration for good, and as constant a restraint from evil. A constant
-endeavor should be made to render every home cheerful. Innocent joy
-should reign in every heart. There should be found domestic amusements,
-fireside pleasures, quiet and simple they may be, but such as shall make
-home happy, and not leave it that irksome place that will oblige the
-youthful spirit to look elsewhere for joy.
-
-There are a thousand unobtrusive ways in which we may add to the
-cheerfulness of home. The very modulations of the voice will often make
-a wonderful difference. How many shades of feeling are expressed by the
-voice! What a change comes over us by a change of tones! No delicately
-tuned harp-string can awaken more pleasures, no grating discord can
-pierce with more pain. It is practicable to make home so delightful that
-children shall have no disposition to wander from it or prefer any other
-place. It is possible to make it so attractive that it shall not only
-firmly hold its own loved ones, but shall draw others into its cheerful
-circle. Let the house all day long be the scene of pleasant looks,
-pleasant words, kind and affectionate acts; let the table be the happy
-eating-place of a merry group, and not simply a dull board where the
-members come to eat. Let the sitting-room at evening be the place where
-a merry company settle themselves to books and games, till the round of
-good-night kisses are in order. Let there be some music in the
-household, not kept to show to company, but music in which all can join.
-Let the young companions be welcomed and made for the time a part of the
-group. In a word, let the home be surrounded by an air of cozy and
-cheerful good-will. Then children will not be exhorted to love it; you
-will not be able to tempt them away from it.
-
-To the man of business home should be an earthly paradise, to the
-embellishment of which his leisure time and thoughts might well be
-devoted. Life is certainly a pleasanter thing if the inevitable daily
-drudgery be relieved by a little lightness, brightness, and intelligent
-enjoyment. The craving for amusement is a natural one, and within proper
-bounds it ought to be gratified. And there is surely no better
-entertainment for the spare hours of an intelligent man than the
-embellishment of his home, so that it will be an agreeable place for
-himself and his family to dwell in, and for his friends to visit. He may
-be assured that his children as they grow up will become better men and
-women, and more useful members of society, if they live in a home which
-is itself a work of art, and in which they are surrounded by objects
-stimulative to the intellect, the imagination, and to all the better
-feelings of their natures.
-
-This making home a work of art is not a piece of sentimentalism, but it
-is one which ought to address itself in the strongest manner to the
-minds of all practical people. There is nothing better worthy of
-adornment than the house we live in; and a home arranged and fitted up
-with taste will be better cared for, it will beget habits of greater
-neatness, it will inspire nobler thoughts, it will exert a pleasanter
-influence, not only on its inmates, but on the whole neighborhood, than
-one fitted with the costliest objects selected with indiscrimination,
-without plan, and merely for the purpose of ostentatious display.
-
-It has been said that there is sure to be contentment in a home in the
-windows of which can be seen birds and flowers, and it may also be said
-that there will be the same conditions wherever there are pictures on
-the walls. A room without pictures is like a room without windows.
-Pictures are loop-holes of escape to the soul, leading to other scenes
-and other spheres. They are consolers of loneliness, they are books,
-they are histories and sermons which we can read without turning over
-the leaves. The sweet influence of flowers is no less than that of
-paintings. At all seasons of the year they are gladly welcomed. They are
-emblematic of both the joys and sorrows of life, and religion has
-associated them with the highest spiritual verities. Faded though they
-may sometimes be, they have the power to wake the chords of memory and
-make us children again. At the sick-bed and marriage feast, on altar and
-cathedral walls they have a meaning, and the humblest home looks
-brighter where they bloom.
-
-Many a child goes astray, not because there is a want of prayers or
-virtue at home, but simply because home lacks sunshine. A child needs
-smiles as much as flowers sunbeams. Children look little beyond the
-present moment. If a thing pleases them they are apt to seek it, if it
-displeases they are prone to avoid it. Children are great imitators, and
-are never so happy as when trying to do what they see other people do.
-Their plays consist in copying actual affairs of the older ones, and
-these amusements often really prepare the children for the actual
-business of life, so that they may sooner become helpful to their
-parents. They should be watched and encouraged, therefore, in their
-plays to habits of thoughtfulness and self-reliance. It is to be hoped
-that games of skill, which shall try the wit and patience of both
-parents and children, will become the fashion of the times, until every
-home in the land shall be supplied with these accessories of pleasure,
-until every child shall have in his father's house, be it humble or
-costly, such appliances and helps for his entertainment that he shall
-find his amusements under his father's roof and in his father's
-presence.
-
-Among home amusements the best is the good old habit of conversation,
-the talking over the events of the day in bright and quick play of wit
-and fancy, the story which brings the laugh, and the speaking the good,
-kind, and true things which all have in their hearts. Conversation is
-the sunshine of the mind, an intellectual orchestra where all the
-instruments should bear a part. Cultivate singing in the family. The
-songs and hymns your childhood sung, bring them all back to your memory;
-and teach them to the little ones. Mix them all together, to meet the
-varying moods as, in after life, they come over us so mysteriously. Is
-it not singular what trifles sometimes serve to wake the memories of
-youth? And what more often than snatches of olden songs not heard for
-many years, but which used to come from lips now closed forever? Thus
-the home songs not only serve to make the present home life happy and
-agreeable, but the very memory of it will serve as a shield of defense
-in times of trial and temptation. At times, amid the crushing mishaps of
-business, a song of the olden time breaks in upon the weary thoughts and
-guides the mind into another channel—light breaks from behind the cloud
-in the sky, and new courage is given us.
-
-Parents do well to study the character of the younger ones. The majority
-of parents do not understand their children. They are kept under
-restraint, and are not properly developed; they live a life of fear
-rather than of love, which should not be. Home should be the bright
-sanctuary of our hearts, the repository of all our thoughts. Have
-confidence in each other, and the seeds properly sown will spring forth
-with fruits that will bud and blossom, but never die. What is comparable
-to a well regulated, happy home? It is our heaven below, where each
-thought will vibrate in perfect unison.
-
-In the great majority of cases it will be found that the frequenters of
-saloons and places of low resort have not pleasant homes. It should be
-the duty of all to strive to make home so happy that each evening will
-furnish pleasant memories to lighten the load of another day. Make it so
-happy that you do not tire of it, but long for the hour when your day's
-toil is over, and you desire to reach it as the happiest and dearest
-place on earth. Parents should more earnestly consider the importance of
-home culture, home happiness, home love. The latter should be the ruling
-element, for all the household is moved by the surrounding influences,
-and when a spirit of love broods over the household, how kind, gentle,
-and considerate do all its members become!
-
-There are some persons who apparently live more for the admiration of
-others than for their own household, and have a smile for all but those
-who should be the nearest and dearest. This is almost criminally wrong;
-they could take no surer course to make a complete wreck of their own
-happiness and the home happiness. Whatever vexatious troubles parents
-meet in their daily life, it is their duty no less than it should be
-their chief pleasure to strive, as far as possible, to throw around the
-home an atmosphere of joy and happiness, to make home the dearest spot
-on earth, so that when, with the passage of years, the children go from
-thence to new and untried scenes, the memory of home will bring to the
-heart a thrill of joyful recollections, and thus give them a new courage
-to take up the burden of life.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: HOME DUTIES.]
-
- "And say to mothers what a holy charge
- Is theirs; with what a kingly power their love
- Might rule the fountains of the new-born mind;
- Warn them to wake at early dawn and sow
- Good seed before the world has sown its tares."
-
- —MRS. SIGOURNEY.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Duty embraces man's whole existence. It begins in the home, where there
-is the duty which children owe to their parents on the one hand, and the
-duty which parents owe their children on the other. There surely can be
-no more important duties to ponder over long and earnestly than those
-relating to the home, the duty of patience, of courtesy one to the
-other, the interest in each other's welfare, the duty of self-control,
-of learning to bear and forbear.
-
-One danger of home life springs from its familiarity. Kindred hearts at
-a common fireside are far too apt to relax from the proprieties of
-social life. Careless language and careless attire are too apt to be
-indulged in when the eye of the world is shut off, the ear of the world
-can not hear. There should be no stiffness of family etiquette, no
-sternness of family discipline, like that which prevailed in olden
-times—the day for that is passed. But the day for thorough civility and
-courtesy among the members of a home, the day for careful propriety of
-dress and address, will never pass away. It is here that the truest and
-most faultless social life is to be lived; it is here that such a life
-is to be learned. A home in which true courtesy and politeness reigns is
-a home from which polite men and women go forth, and they go out
-directly from no other. It should be remembered that it is at home, in
-the family, and among kindred, that an every-day politeness of manner is
-really most to be prized; there it confers substantial benefits and
-brings the sweetest returns. The little attentions which members of the
-same household may show towards one another, day by day, belong to what
-is styled "good manners." There can not be any ingrained gentility which
-does not exhibit itself first at home.
-
-Children should be trained to behave at home as you would have them
-behave abroad. It is the home life which they act out when away. If this
-is rude, gruff, and lacking in civility, they will be lacking in all
-that constitutes true refinement, and thus most painfully reflect on the
-home training when in the presence of strangers. In the actions of
-children strangers can read a history of the home life. It tells of duty
-undone, of turmoil and strife, of fretful women and impatient men; or,
-it speaks of a home of love and peace, where patience sits enthroned in
-the hearts of all its members, and each is mindful of his or her duty
-towards the other.
-
-Let the wives and daughters of business men think of the toils, the
-anxieties, the mortification and wear that fathers undergo to secure for
-them comfortable homes. Is it not their duty to compensate them for
-these trials by making them happy at their own fireside? Happy is he who
-can find solace and comfort at home. And husbands, too, do not think
-enough of the thousand trials and petty, vexatious incidents of the
-daily home life to which wives are subject. True, they themselves feel
-the harassing incidents of business, which may be of more immediate
-importance than the cares of home. But one large worry is preferable to
-many small ones. Thus it is the duty of each to remember these facts,
-and strive to make the home life happy by mutual self-sacrifice.
-
-Something is wrong in those homes where the little courtesies of speech
-are ignored in the everyday home life. When the family gather alone
-around the breakfast or dinner table the same courtesy should prevail as
-if guests were present. Reproof, complaint, unpleasant discussion, and
-sarcasm, no less than moody silence, should be banished. Let the
-conversation be genial and suited to the little folks as far as
-possible. Interesting incidents of the day's experience may be mentioned
-at the evening meal, thus arousing the social element. If resources fail
-sometimes little extracts read from evening or morning papers will
-kindle the conversation. Scolding is never allowable; reproof and
-criticism from parents must have their time and place, but should never
-intrude so far upon the social life of the family as to render the home
-uncomfortable. A serious word in private will generally cure a fault
-more easily than many public criticisms. In some families a spirit of
-contradiction and discussion mars the harmony; every statement is, as it
-were, dissected, and the absolute correctness of every word calculated.
-It interferes seriously with social freedom where unimportant social
-inaccuracies are watched for and exposed for the sake of exposure.
-
-Never think any thing which affects the happiness of your children too
-small a matter to claim your attention. Use every means in your power to
-win and retain their confidence. Do not rest satisfied without some
-account of each day's joys or sorrows. It is a source of great comfort
-to the innocent child to tell all its troubles to mother, and the mother
-should haste to lend a willing ear. Soothe and quiet its little heart
-after the experience of the day. It has had its disappointments and
-trials, as well as its plays and pleasures; it is ready to throw its
-arms around the mother's neck, and forgetting the one live again the
-other. Always send the little child to bed happy. Whatever cares may
-trouble your mind give the little one a good-night kiss as it goes to
-its pillow. The memory of this in the stormy years which may be in store
-for it will be like Bethlehem's star to the bewildered shepherd, and the
-heart will receive a fresh inspiration of courage at the thrill of
-youthful memories.
-
-The domestic fireside is a seminary of infinite importance. It is
-important because it is universal, and because the education it bestows,
-woven with the woof of childhood, gives color to the whole texture of
-life. Early impressions are not easily erased; the virgin wax is
-faithful to the signet, and subsequent impressions serve rather to
-indent the former one. There are but few who can receive the honors of a
-college education, but all are graduates of the heart. The learning of
-the university may fade from recollection, its classic lore may be lost
-from the halls of memory; but the simple lessons of home, enameled upon
-the heart of childhood, defy the rust of years, and outlive the more
-mature but less vivid pictures of after days. So deep, so lasting are
-the impressions of early life that you often see a man in the imbecility
-of age holding fresh in his recollection the events of childhood, while
-all the wide space between that and the present hour is a forgotten
-waste.
-
-Those parents act most wisely who have forethought enough to provide not
-only for the youth, but for the age of their offspring; who teach them
-usefulness, and not to expect too much from the world; to become early
-familiarized with the stern and actual realities of life, and never to
-be apes of fashion nor parasites of greatness. Parents, then, should
-educate their children not merely in scholastic acquirements, but in a
-knowledge of the respective positions they are to occupy when they
-become men and women. Educate them to the duties that the world will
-require of them when they arrive at that long looked for period when
-they will have reached maturity, and enter into the game that every
-person must play during his existence in the world. Educate the girl to
-the intricate duties that will be required of her as a wife and mother,
-and to the position she is to occupy in society, and that it rests with
-herself whether it shall be exalted or whether it shall be debased and
-lowly. Educate the boy to a knowledge of what the busy world will
-require of him; teach him self-reliance and all manly attributes.
-
-A knowledge of the world is more than necessary to enable us to live in
-it wisely, and this knowledge should commence in the nursery. It must be
-remembered that the largest and most important part of the education of
-children, whether for good or evil, is carried on at home, often
-unconsciously in their amusements, and under the daily influence of what
-they see and hear about them. It is there that subtle brains and lissome
-fingers find scope and learn to promote the well-being of the community.
-One can not tell what duties their children may be called to perform in
-after life. They must teach them to cultivate their faculties, and to
-exercise all their senses to choose the good and refuse the evil.
-
-Above all things, teach children what life is. It is not simply
-breathing and moving. Life is a battle, and all thoughtful people see it
-so,—a battle between good and evil from childhood. Good influence
-drawing us up toward the divine, bad influence drawing us down to the
-brute. Teach children that they lead two lives, the life without and the
-life within; that the inside must be pure in the sight of God, as well
-as the outside in the sight of man. Educate them, then, to love the good
-and true, and remember that every word spoken within the hearing of
-little children tends toward the formation of character. Teach little
-children to love the beautiful. If you are able, give them a corner in
-the garden for flowers, allow them to have their favorite trees. Teach
-them to wander in the prettiest woodlets, show them where they best can
-view the sunset. Buy them pictures, and encourage them to deck their
-rooms in their childish way. Thus may the mother weave into the life of
-her children thoughts and feelings, rich, beautiful, grand, and noble,
-which will make all after life brighter and better.
-
-The duties of children to parents are far too little considered. As the
-children grow up the parents lean on them much earlier than either
-imagine. In the passage of years the children gain experience and
-strength. But with the parents! The cares of a long life bow the form,
-and the strong are again made weak. It is now that the duties of
-children assume their grandest forms. It is not sufficient to simply
-give them a home to make their declining years comfortable. While
-supplying their physical wants, their hearts may be famishing for some
-expression of love from you. If you think they have outgrown these
-desires, you are mistaken. Every little attention you can show your
-mother—your escort to Church or concert, or for a quiet walk—brings
-back the youth of her heart; her cheeks glow with pleasure, and she
-feels happy for such a dutiful son. The father, occupied and absorbed as
-he may be, is not wholly indifferent to the filial expressions of
-devoted love. He may pretend to care but very little for them; but,
-having faith in their sincerity, it would give him pain were they
-entirely withheld. Fathers need their sons quite as much as the sons
-need the fathers; but in how many deplorable instances do they fail to
-find in them a staff for their declining years!
-
-You may disappoint the ambition of your parents, you may be unable to
-distinguish yourself as you fondly hoped; but let this not swerve you
-from a determination to be a son of whose moral character they need
-never be ashamed. Begin early to cultivate a habit of thoughtfulness and
-consideration for others, especially for those you are commanded to
-honor. Can you begrudge a few extra steps for the mother who never
-stopped to number those you demanded during your helpless infancy? Have
-you the heart to slight her requests or treat her remarks with
-indifference, when you can not begin to measure the patient devotion
-with which she bore your peculiarities? Anticipate her wants, invite her
-confidence, be prompt to offer assistance, express your affections as
-heartily as you did when a child, that the mother may never have
-occasion to grieve in secret for the child she has lost.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: AIM OF LIFE.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-It is the aim that makes the man, and without this he is nothing as far
-as the utter destitution of force, weight, and even individuality among
-men can reduce him to nonentity. The strong gusts and currents of the
-world sweep him this way and that, without steam or sail to impel, or
-helm to guide him. If he be not speedily wrecked or run aground, it is
-more his good fortune than good management. We have never heard a more
-touching confession of utter weakness and misery than these words from
-one singularly blessed with the endowments of nature and of Providence:
-"My life is aimless."
-
-Take heed, young man, of an aimless life. Take heed, too, of a low and
-sordid aim. A well-ascertained and generous purpose gives vigor,
-direction, and perseverance to all man's efforts. Its concomitants are a
-well-disciplined intellect, character, influence, tranquillity, and
-cheerfulness within—success and honor without. Whatever a man's talents
-and advantages may be, with no aim, or a low one, he is weak and
-despicable; and he can not be otherwise than respectable and influential
-with a high one. Without some definite object before us, some standard
-which we are earnestly striving to reach, we can not expect to attain to
-any great height, either mentally or morally. Placing for ourselves high
-standards, and wishing to reach them without any further effort on our
-part, is not enough to elevate us in any very great degree.
-
-Some one has said, "Nature holds for each of us all that we need to make
-us useful and happy; but she requires us to labor for all that we get."
-God gives nothing of value unto man unmatched by need of labor; and we
-can expect to overcome difficulties only by strong and determined
-efforts. Here is a great and noble work lying just before us, just as
-the blue ocean lies out beyond the rocks which line the shore. In our
-strivings for "something better than we have known" we should work for
-others' good rather than our own pleasure. Those whose object in life is
-their own happiness find at last that their lives are sad failures.
-
-We need to do something each day that shall help us to a larger life of
-soul; and every word or deed which brings joy or gladness to other
-hearts lifts us nearer a perfect life; for a noble deed is a step toward
-God. To live for something worthy of life involves the necessity of an
-intelligent and definite plan of action. More than splendid dreamings or
-magnificent resolves is necessary to success in the objects and
-ambitions of life. Men come to the best results in every department of
-effort only as they thoughtfully plan and earnestly toil in given
-directions. Purposes without work is dead. It were vain to hope for good
-results from mere plans. Random or spasmodic efforts, like aimless
-shoots, are generally no better than wasted time or strength. The
-purposes of shrewd men in the business of this life are always followed
-by careful plans, enforced by work. Whether the object is learning,
-honor, or wealth, the ways and means are always laid out according to
-the best rules and methods. The mariner has his chart, the architect his
-plans, the sculptor his model, and all as a means and condition of
-success. Inventive genius, or even what is called inspiration, can do
-little in any department of the theoretic or practical science except as
-it works by a well-formed plan; then every step is an advance towards
-the accomplishment of its object. Every tack of the ship made in
-accordance with nautical law keeps her steadily nearing the port. Each
-stroke of the chisel brings the marble into a clearer likeness to the
-model. No effort or time is lost; for nothing is done rashly or at
-random.
-
-Thus, in the grand aim of life, if some worthy purpose be kept
-constantly in view, and for its accomplishment every effort be made
-every day of your life, you will, unconsciously, perhaps, approach the
-goal of your ambition. There can be no question among the philosophic
-observers of men and events that fixedness of purpose is a grand element
-of human success. When a man has formed in his mind a great sovereign
-purpose, it governs his conduct as the laws of nature govern the
-operation of physical things.
-
-Every one should have a mark in view, and pursue it steadily. He should
-not be turned from his course by other objects ever so attractive. Life
-is not long enough for any one man to accomplish every thing. Indeed,
-but few can at best accomplish more than one thing well. Many—alas!
-very many—accomplish nothing. Yet there is not a man, endowed with
-ordinary intellect or accomplishments, but can accomplish at least one
-useful, important, worthy purpose. It was not without reason that some
-of the greatest of men were trained from their youth to choose some
-definite object in life, to which they were required to direct their
-thoughts and to devote all their energies. It became, therefore, a sole
-and ruling purpose of their hearts, and was almost certainly the means
-of their future advancement and happiness in the world.
-
-Of the thousands of men who are annually coming upon the stage of life
-there are few who escape the necessity of adopting some profession or
-calling; and there are fewer still who, if they knew the miseries of
-idleness—tenfold keener and more numerous than those of the most
-laborious profession—would ever desire such an escape. First of all, a
-choice of business or occupation should be made, and made early, with a
-wise reference to capacity and taste. The youth should be educated for
-it and, as far as possible, in it; and when this is done it should be
-pursued with industry, energy, and enthusiasm, which will warrant
-success.
-
-This choice of an occupation depends partly upon the individual
-preference and partly upon circumstances. It may be that you are
-debarred from entering upon that business for which you are best
-adapted. In that case make the best choice in your power, apply yourself
-faithfully and earnestly to whatever you undertake, and you can not well
-help achieving a success. Patient application sometimes leads to great
-results. No man should be discouraged because he does not get on rapidly
-in his calling from the start. In the more intellectual professions
-especially it should be remembered that a solid character is not the
-growth of a day, that the mental faculties are not matured except by
-long and laborious culture.
-
-To refine the taste, to fortify the reasoning faculty with its
-appropriate discipline, to store the cells of memory with varied and
-useful learning, to train all the powers of the mind systematically, is
-the work of calm and studious years. A young man's education has been of
-but little use to him if it has not taught him to check the fretful
-impatience, the eager haste to drink the cup of life, the desire to
-exhaust the intoxicating draught of ambition. He should set his aim so
-high that it will require patient years of toil to reach it. If he can
-reach it at a bound it is unworthy of him. It should be of such a nature
-that he feels the necessity of husbanding his resources.
-
-You will receive all sorts of the most excellent advice, but you must do
-your own deciding. You have to take care of yourself in this world, and
-you may as well take your own way of doing it. But if a change of
-business is desired be sure the fault is with the business and not the
-individual. For running hither and thither generally makes sorry work,
-and brings to poverty ere the sands of life are half run. The North,
-South, East, and West furnish vast fields for enterprise; but of what
-avail for the seeker to visit the four corners of the world if he still
-is dissatisfied, and returns home with empty pockets and idle hands,
-thinking that the world is wrong and that he himself is a misused and
-shamefully imposed-on creature? The world, smiling at the rebuff, moves
-on, while he lags behind, groaning over misusage, without sufficient
-energy to roll up his sleeves and fight his way through.
-
-A second profession seldom succeeds, not because a man may not make
-himself fully equal to its duties, but because the world will not
-readily believe he is so. The world argues thus: he that has failed in
-his first profession, to which he dedicated the morning of his life and
-the Spring-time of his exertion, is not the most likely person to master
-a second. To this it might be replied that a man's first profession is
-often chosen for him by others; his second he usually decides upon for
-himself; therefore, his failure in his first profession may, for what he
-knows, be mainly owing to the sincere but mistaken attention he was
-constantly paying to his second.
-
-Ever remember that it is not your trade or profession that makes you
-respectable. Manhood and profession or handicraft are entirely different
-things. An occupation is never an end of life. It is an instrument put
-into our hands by which to gain for the body the means of living until
-sickness or old age robs it of life, and we pass on to the world for
-which this is a preparation. The great purpose of living is twofold in
-character. The one should never change from the time reason takes the
-helm; it is to live a life of manliness, of purity and honor. To live
-such a life that, whether rich or poor, your neighbors will honor and
-respect you as a man of sterling principles. The other is to have some
-business, in the due performance of which you are to put forth all your
-exertions. It matters not so much what it is as whether it be honorable,
-and it may change to suit the varying change of circumstances. When
-these two objects—character and a high aim—are fairly before a youth,
-what then? He must strive to attain those objects. He must work as well
-as dream, labor as well as pray. His hand must be as stout as his heart,
-his arm as strong as his head. Purpose must be followed by action. Then
-is he living and acting worthily, as becomes a human being with great
-destinies in store for him.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: SUCCESS OR FAILURE.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Mankind every-where are desirous of achieving a success, of making the
-most of life. At times, it is true, they act as if they little cared
-what was the outcome of their exertions. But even in the lives of the
-most abandoned and reckless there are moments when their good angel
-points out to them the heights to which they might ascend, that a wish
-arises for
-
- "Something better than they have known."
-
-But, alas! they have not the will to make the necessary exertions.
-
-We are confronted with two ends—success or failure. To win the former
-it requires of us labor and perseverance. We must remember that those
-who start for glory must imitate the mettled hounds of Acton, and must
-pursue the game not only where there is a path, but where there is none.
-They must be able to simulate and to dissimulate; to leap and to creep;
-to conquer the earth like Cæsar; to fall down and kiss it like Brutus;
-to throw their sword, like Brennus, into the trembling scale; or, like
-Nelson, to snatch the laurels from the doubtful hand of victory while
-she is hesitating where to bestow them. He that would win success in
-life must make Perseverance his bosom friend, Experience his wise
-counselor, Caution his elder brother, and Hope his guardian genius. He
-must not repine because the fates are sometimes against him, but when he
-trips or falls let him, like Cæsar when he stumbled on shore, stumble
-forward, and, by escaping the omen, change its nature and meaning.
-Remembering that those very circumstances which are apt to be abused as
-the palliatives of failure are the true tests of merit, let him gird up
-his loins for whatever in the mysterious economy of the future may await
-him. Thus will he rise superior to ill-fortune, and becoming daily more
-and more impassive to its attacks, will learn to force his way in spite
-of it, till, at last, he will be able to fashion his luck to his will.
-
-"Life is too short," says a shrewd thinker, "for us to waste one moment
-in deploring our lot. We must go after success, since it will not come
-to us, and we have no time to spare." If you wish to succeed, you must
-do as you would to get in through a crowd to a gate all are anxious to
-reach—hold your ground and push hard; to stand still is to give up the
-battle. Give your energies to the highest employment of which your
-nature is capable. Be alive, be patient, work hard, watch opportunities,
-be rigidly honest, hope for the best; and if you are not able to reach
-the goal of your ambition, which is possible in spite of your utmost
-efforts, you will die with the consciousness of having done your best,
-which is after all the truest success to which man can aspire.
-
-As manhood dawns and the young man catches its first lights, the
-pinnacles of realized dreams, the golden domes of high possibilities,
-and the purpling hills of great delights, and then looks down upon the
-narrow, sinuous, long, and dusty paths by which others have reached
-them, he is apt to be disgusted with the passage, and to seek for
-success through broader channels and by quicker means. To begin at the
-foot of the hills and work slowly to the top seems a very discouraging
-process, and here it is that thousands of young men have made shipwreck
-of their lives. There is no royal road to success. The path lies through
-troubles and discouragements. It lies through fields of earnest, patient
-labor. It calls on the young man to put forth energy and determination.
-It bids him build well his foundation, but it promises in reward of this
-a crowning triumph.
-
-There never was a time in the world's history when high success in any
-profession or calling demanded harder or more earnest labor than now. It
-is impossible to succeed in a hurry. Men can no longer go at a single
-leap into eminent positions. As those articles are most highly prized to
-attain which requires the greatest amount of labor, so the road that
-leads to success is long and rugged. What matter if a round does break
-or a foot slip; such things must be expected, and being expected, they
-must be overcome. Rome was not built in a day; but proofs of her
-magnificent temples are still to be seen. We each prepare a temple to
-last through all eternity. A structure to last so long, can it take but
-a day to build it? The days of a life-time are necessary to build the
-monument mightier than Rome and more enduring than adamant. It is hard,
-earnest work, step by step, that secures success; and while energy and
-perseverance are securing the prize for steady workers, others, sitting
-down by the wayside, are wondering why they, too, can not be successful.
-They surely forget that the true key is labor, and that nothing but a
-strong, resolute will can turn it.
-
-The secret of one's success or failure is usually contained in answer to
-the question, "How earnest is he?" Success is the child of confidence
-and perseverance. The talent of success is simply doing what you can do
-well, and doing well whatever you do, without a thought of fame. Success
-is the best test of capacity, and materially confirms us in a favorable
-opinion of ourselves. Success in life is the proper and harmonious
-development of those faculties which God has given us. Whatever you try
-to do in life, try with all your heart to do it well; whatever you
-devote yourself to, devote yourself to it completely. Never believe it
-possible that any natural ability can claim immunity from companionship
-of the steady, plain, hard-working qualities, and hope to gain its end.
-There can be no such fulfillment on this earth. Some happy talent and
-some fortunate opportunity may form the sides of the ladder on which
-some men mount; but the rounds of the ladder must be made of material to
-stand wear and tear, and there is no substitute for thorough-going,
-ardent, sincere earnestness. Never put your hand on any thing into which
-you can not throw your whole self; never affect depreciation of your own
-work, whatever it is.
-
-Although success is the guerdon for which all men toil, they have,
-nevertheless, often to labor on perseveringly without any glimmer of
-success in sight. They have to live, meanwhile, upon their courage.
-Sowing their seed, it may be in the dark, in the hope that it will yet
-take root and spring up in achieved result. The best of causes have had
-to fight their way to triumph through a long succession of failures, and
-many of the assailants have died in the breach before the fortune has
-been won. The heroism they have displayed is to be measured, not so much
-by their immediate successes, as by the opposition they have encountered
-and the courage with which they have maintained the struggle.
-
-Among the habits required for the efficient prosecution of business of
-any kind, and consequent success, the most important are those of
-application, observation, method, accuracy, punctuality, and dispatch.
-Some persons sneer at these virtues as little things, trifles unworthy
-of their notice. It must be remembered that human life is made up of
-trifles. As the pence make the pound and the minutes the hour, so it is
-the repetition of little things, severally insignificant, that make up
-human character. In the majority of cases where men have failed of
-success, it has been owing to the neglect of little things deemed too
-microscopic to need attention. It is the result of practical, every-day
-experience, that steady attention to matter of detail is the mother of
-good fortune. Accuracy is also of much importance, and an invariable
-mark of good training in a man—accuracy in observation, accuracy in
-speech, accuracy in the transaction of affairs. What is done in business
-must be done well if you would win the success desired.
-
-Give a man power, and a field in which to use it, and he must accomplish
-something. He may not do and become all that he desires and dreams of,
-but his life can not well be a failure. God has given to all of us
-ability and opportunity enough to be moderately successful. If we
-utterly fail, in the majority of cases, it is our own fault. We have
-either neglected to improve the talents with which our Creator has
-endowed us, or we fail to enter the door that has opened for us. Such is
-the constitution of human society, that the wise person gradually learns
-not to expect too much from life; while he strives for success by worthy
-methods, he will be prepared for failure. He will keep his mind open to
-enjoyment, but submit patiently to suffering. Wailings and complainings
-in life are never of any use; only cheerful and continuous working in
-right paths are of real avail. In spite of our best efforts failures are
-in store for many of us. It remains, then, for you to do the best you
-can under all circumstances, remembering that the race is not always to
-the swift nor the battle to the strong. It is by the right application
-of swiftness and strength that you are to make your way. It is not
-sufficient to do the right thing, it must be done in the right way, at
-the right time, if you would achieve success.
-
-Young man, have you ever considered long and earnestly what you were
-best capable of doing in the world? If not put it off no longer. You
-expect to do something, you wish to achieve success. Have you ever
-thought of what success consisted? It does not consist in amassing a
-fortune; some of the most _unsuccessful_ men have done that. Remember,
-too, that success and fame are not synonymous terms. You can not all be
-famous as lawyers, statesmen, or divines. You may or may not accumulate
-a fortune. But is it not true that wealth, position, and fame are but
-the accidents of success, that success may or may not be accompanied by
-them, that it is something above and beyond them? In this sense of the
-word you only are to blame if you fall. It is in your power to live a
-life of integrity and honor. You can so live that all will honor and
-respect you. You can speak words of cheer to the downhearted, a kindly
-word of caution to the erring one. You can help remove some obstacle
-from the paths of the weak. You can incite in the minds of those around
-you a desire to live a pure, straightforward life. You can bid those who
-are almost overwhelmed by the billows and waves of sorrow, to look up
-and see the sun shining through the rifts in the dark clouds passing
-o'er them. All this can you do, and a grand success will be your reward.
-Away, then, with your lethargy. You are a man; arise in your strength
-and your manhood. Resolve to be in this, its true sense, a successful
-man. And then if wealth or fame wait on you, and men delight to do you
-honor, these will be but added laurels to your brow, but the gilded
-frame encasing success.
-
-[Illustration]
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-
-[Illustration: DIGNITY OF LABOR.]
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-[Illustration]
-
-Labor, either of the head or the hand, is the lot of humanity. There are
-no exceptions to this general rule. The rich who have toiled early and
-late for a competence find their present ease more unendurable than
-their past exertions, and the round of pleasures to which, in other
-days, they looked for a reward of their toil in actual realization,
-resolve themselves into drudgeries, often worse than those from which
-they vainly fancied they had escaped. The king on his throne is beset
-with cares, and the labor he performs is ofttimes far heavier than any
-borne by the poorest peasant in his dominions. The high and low alike
-acknowledge the universal sway of labor. That which is thus the common
-lot of mankind and reigns with such universal sway can not be otherwise
-than honorable in the highest degree.
-
-Labor may be a burden and a chastisement, but it is also an honor and a
-glory. Without it nothing can be accomplished. All that to man is great
-and precious is acquired only through labor. Without it civilization
-would relapse into barbarism. It is the forerunner and indispensable
-requisite to all the sweet influence of refinement. It is the herald of
-happiness, and makes the desert to blossom as a garden of roses. It
-whitens the sea with sails, and stretches bands of iron across the
-continent. It is labor that drives the plow, scatters the seed, and
-causes the fields to wave in golden harvests for the good of man. It
-gathers the grain and sends it to different regions of the earth to feed
-other millions toiling in less favored channels there. Labor gathers the
-gossamer web of the caterpillar, the cotton from the field, and the
-fleece from the flock, and weaves them into raiment soft, warm, and
-beautiful. The purple robe of royalty, the plain man's sober suit, the
-fantastic dress of the painted savage, and the furry coverings of arctic
-lands are alike the results of its handiwork, and proofs of its
-universal sway and honor. Labor molds the brick, splits the slate, and
-quarries the stone. It shapes the column and rears not only the humble
-cottage but the gorgeous palace, the tapering spire and stately dome.
-
-It is by labor that mankind have risen from a state of barbarism to the
-light of the present. It is only by labor that progression can continue.
-Labor, possessing such inherent dignity and being the grand measure of
-progress, it is most fitting that man should not taste life's greatest
-happiness, or wield great influence for good, or reach the summit of his
-ambitious resolves, save only as the result of long and patient labor.
-Life is a short day; but it is a working day, and not a holiday. Man was
-made for action, and life is a mere scene for the exercise of the mind
-and engagement of the hand—a scene where the most important occupations
-are, in one sense, but species of amusement, and where so long as we
-take pleasure in the pursuit of an object it matters but little that we
-secure it not, or that it fades when acquired.
-
-Life to some is drudgery; to some, pain; to some, art; to others,
-pleasure; but to _all_, work. Let none feel a sense of sore
-disappointment that life to them becomes routine. It is a necessary
-consequence of our natures that our work and our amusements, our
-business and our pleasures, should tend to become routine. The same
-wants, the same demands, and similar duties meet us on the threshold of
-every day. We look forward to some great occasion on which to display
-ourselves, some grand event in which to give proof of a heroic spirit,
-and complain of the petty routine of daily life. On the contrary, it is
-this succession of little duties—little works apparently of no
-account—which constitute the grand work of life; and we display true
-nobility when we cheerfully take these up and go forward, content to
-
- "Labor and to wait."
-
-Alas for the man or woman who has not learned to work! They are but poor
-creatures. They know not themselves. They depend on others for support.
-Let them not fancy they have a monopoly of enjoyment. They have missed
-the sweetest pleasure of life, even the pleasure of self-reliant
-feeling, born of vanquished difficulties. They know not the thrill of
-pleasure experienced by him who carries difficult projects to a
-successful termination. Each rest owes its deliciousness to toil, and no
-toil is so burdensome as the rest of him who has nothing to task and
-quicken his powers. They do not realize, in their blind pride, what
-labor has done for them. It was labor that rocked them in their cradle
-and nourished their pampered life. Without it the very garments on their
-back would be unspun. He is indebted to toil for the meanest thing that
-ministers to his wants, save only the air of heaven, and even that, in
-God's wise providence, is breathed with labor.
-
-Labor explores the rich veins of deeply buried rocks, extracting the
-gold and silver, the copper and tin. Labor smelts the iron, and molds it
-into a thousand shapes for use and ornaments, from the massive pillar to
-the tiniest needle, from the ponderous anchor to the wire gauze, from
-the mighty flywheel of the engine to the polished purse-ring or
-glittering bead. Labor hews down the gnarled oak, shapes the timbers,
-builds the ship, and guides it over the deep, bringing to our shores the
-produce of every clime.
-
-But mere physical, manual labor is not the sole end of life. It must be
-joined with higher means of improvement, or it degrades instead of
-exalts. The poorest laborer has intellect, heart, imagination, tastes,
-as well as bones and muscles, and he is grievously wronged when
-compelled to exclusive drudgery for bodily subsistence. It is the
-condition of all outward comforts and improvements, whilst, at the same
-time, it conspires with higher means and influences in ministering to
-the vigor and growth of the mind. Not only has labor inherent dignity,
-but it is almost a necessity for mind as well as body. Man is an
-intelligence, sustained and preserved by bodily organs, and their active
-exercise is necessary to the enjoyment of health. It is not work, but
-overwork, that is hurtful; it is not hard work that is injurious so much
-as monotonous, fagging, hopeless work. All hopeful work is healthful;
-and to be usefully and properly employed is one of the great secrets of
-happiness.
-
-Most interesting is the contemplation of the victories achieved by the
-hand of labor—victories far grander than any achieved by physical force
-on the field of battle; for its conquests are wrested from nature. The
-very elements are brought under subjection, and made to contribute to
-the good of man. It displays its triumph in a thousand cities; it
-glories in shapes of beauty; it speaks in words of power; it makes the
-sinewy arm strong with liberty, the poor man's heart rich with content,
-crowns the swarthy and sweaty brow with honor, dignity, and peace. It is
-one of the best regulators of practical character. It evokes and
-disciplines obedience, self-control, attention, application, and
-perseverance, giving a man deftness and skill in his physical calling,
-and aptitude and dexterity in the affairs of ordinary life. Work is the
-law of our being, the living principle that carries men and nations
-onward. Manual labor is a school in which men are placed to get energy
-of purpose and character—a vastly more important endowment than the
-learning of other schools.
-
-The laborer is placed, indeed, under hard masters—the power of physical
-elements, physical sufferings, and want. But these stern teachers do a
-work which no compassionate, intelligent friend could do for us, and
-true wisdom will bless Providence for this sharp necessity. Labor is not
-merely the grand instrument by which the earth is overspread with
-fruitfulness and beauty, the ocean subdued, and matter wrought into
-innumerable forms for comfort and ornament; it has a far higher
-function, which is to give force to the will, efficiency, courage, the
-capacity of endurance and of devotion to far-reaching plans.
-
-We must ever remember that it is the intention only that disgraces; that
-all honest work is honorable; and if your occupation be not so
-high-sounding as you would like, still it is better to work faithfully
-at this until opportunity opens the door to something higher. Because
-you do not find just what suits you, to refuse to labor at all, to play
-the drone, is to act unworthy of yourself and your destiny. Neither is
-it beneath you to make yourself useful, regardless of what your position
-and wealth may be. A gentleman by birth and education, however richly he
-may be endowed with worldly position, can not but feel that he is in
-duty bound to contribute his quota of endeavor towards the general
-well-being in which he shares. He can not be satisfied with being fed,
-clad, and maintained by the labors of others, without making some
-suitable return to the society that upholds him. It matters not what a
-person's natural gifts may be, he can not expect to attain in any
-profession to a high degree of success without going through with a vast
-deal of work, which, taken by itself, would rightly be called drudgery.
-That quality in man which, for want of a better name, we call genius,
-does not consist in an ability to get along without work, but, on the
-contrary, is generally the faculty of doing an immense amount of work.
-Young men sometimes think that it is not respectable to be at work, and
-imagine that there is some character of disgrace or degradation
-belonging to toil. No greater mistake could be made. Instead of being
-disgraceful to engage in work, it is especially honorable. The most
-illustrious names in history were hard workers. No one whom posterity
-delights to honor ever dreamed or idled his way to fame. To be idle and
-useless is neither an honor nor a privilege. Though persons of small
-natures may be content merely to consume, men of average endowments, of
-manly expectations, and of honest purpose will feel such a condition to
-be incompatible with real honor and true dignity.
-
-The noblest man on earth is he who puts his hands cheerfully and proudly
-to honest labor, and goes forth to conquer honor and worth. Labor is
-mighty and beautiful. The world has long since learned that man can not
-be truly man without employment. Would that young men might judge of the
-dignity of labor by its usefulness rather than by the gloss it wears! We
-do not see a man's nobility in dress and toilet adornments, but in the
-sinewy arm, roughened, it may be, by hardy, honest toil under whose
-farmer's or mechanic's vest a kingly heart may beat. Exalt thine adopted
-calling or profession. Look on labor as honorable, and dignify the task
-before thee, whether it be in the study, office, counting-room,
-workshop, or furrowed field. There is equality in all, and the resolute
-will and pure heart may ennoble either.
-
-[Illustration]
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-[Illustration: PERSEVERANCE.]
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-[Illustration]
-
-It is only by reflection that we derive a just appreciation of the value
-of perseverance. When we see how much can be accomplished in any given
-direction by the man or woman of but average ability who resolutely
-perseveres in the course of action adopted as the ruling purpose of
-their lives, we then arrive at a just estimate of the value of
-perseverance as a factor in success. The old fable of the hare and the
-tortoise only exemplifies a truth which we are all ready to admit when
-we once stop to admire those stupendous works of nature and art, which
-proclaim in no uncertain tones the triumph of perseverance. All the
-performances of human art, at which we look with praise or wonder, are
-instances of the resistless force of perseverance. It is by this that
-the quarry becomes a pyramid; it is by this the Coliseum of Rome was
-built; and this it was that inclosed in adamant the Chinese empire.
-
-One man's individual exertion seems to go for nothing. If a person were
-to compare the result of one man's work with the general design and last
-result, he would be overwhelmed by the sense of their disproportion. Yet
-these petty operations, incessantly continued, in time surmount the
-greatest difficulties. Mountains are elevated and oceans bounded by the
-slender force of human beings. How many men, who have won well-nigh
-imperishable renown in the world of literature, science, or art, owe all
-their greatness to persevering efforts? How many of those whom the world
-calls geniuses can exclaim with Newton that they owe all their greatness
-to persevering efforts, and whatever they may have been able to
-accomplish more than ordinary has been solely by virtue of perseverance?
-They were the sons of unremitting industry and toil. They were once as
-weak and helpless as any of us, once as destitute of wisdom and power as
-an infant. Once the very alphabet of that language which they have
-wielded with such magic effect was unknown to them. They toiled long to
-learn it, to get its sounds, understand its deeper fancies, and longer
-still to obtain the secret of its highest charm and mightiest power, and
-yet even longer for those living, glorious thoughts which they bade it
-bear to an astonished and admiring world.
-
-Their characters, which are now given to the world and will be to
-millions yet unborn as patterns of greatness and goodness, were made by
-that untiring perseverance which marked their whole lives. From
-childhood to age they knew no such word as fail. Defeat only gave them
-power; difficulty only taught them the necessity of redoubled exertions;
-dangers gave them courage, and the sight of great labors inspired in
-them corresponding exertions. Their success has been wrought out by
-persevering industry. It has been said by shrewd observers that
-successful men owe more to their perseverance than to their natural
-powers, their friends, or the favorable circumstances around them.
-Genius will falter by the side of labor, great powers will give place to
-great industry. Talents are desirable, but perseverance is more so. It
-will make mental powers, or at least strengthen those already made. This
-should teach a great lesson of patience to those who are so nearly ready
-to sink in despair, and have grown weary in their strivings for better
-things. For one who faints not, but resolutely takes up the work of life
-and perseveringly continues his exertion, it is possible for him to
-reach almost any height to which his ambition may point. Some of the
-great works of literature, in which are stored away great masses of
-information, are the results of persevering efforts, before which many
-minds would have quailed.
-
-Gibbon consumed nineteen years in writing his masterpiece. How many
-would have had the courage to persevere that length of time, though
-certain of success at last? Courage, when combined with energy and
-perseverance, will overcome difficulties apparently insurmountable.
-Perseverance, working in the right direction and when steadily
-practiced, even by the most humble, will rarely fail of its reward. It
-inspires in the minds of all fair-minded people a friendly feeling. Who
-will not befriend the persevering, energetic youth, the fearless man of
-industry? Who is not a friend to him who is a friend to himself? He who
-perseveres in business, amidst hardships and discouragements, will
-always find ready and generous friends in time of need. He who will
-persevere in a course of wisdom, rectitude, and benevolence, is sure to
-gather round him friends who will be true and faithful.
-
-Go to the men of business, of worth, of influence, and ask them who
-shall have their confidence and support. They will tell you "the men who
-falter not by the wayside, who toil on in their calling against every
-barrier, whose eyes are 'upward,' and whose motto is 'excelsior.'" These
-are the men to whom they give their confidence. But they shun the lazy,
-the indolent, the fearful and faltering. They would as soon trust the
-wind as such men. If you would win friends, be steady and true to
-yourself. Be the unfailing friend of your own purposes, stand by your
-own character, and others will come to your aid.
-
-Almost every portion of the earth teems with works which show what man
-has been able to effect in the physical world by means of perseverance.
-Calculate, if you can, the efforts required to build the pyramids of
-Egypt. Can you conceive of a more enduring monument to the triumph of
-perseverance than that? Look at nature. She has a thousand voices
-teaching lessons of perseverance. The lofty mountains are wearing down
-by slow degrees. The ocean is gradually, but surely, filling up, by
-deposits from its thousand rivers, and by the labors of a little insect
-so small as to be almost invisible to the naked eye. Every shower that
-sweeps over the surface of the country tends to bring the hills and the
-mountains to the level of the plains. Nature has but one lesson on this
-subject, and that is, "Persevere."
-
-More depends upon active perseverance than upon genius. Says a
-common-sense author upon this subject: "Genius unexerted is no more
-genius than a bushel of acorns is a forest of oaks." There may be epics
-in men's brains, just as there are oaks in acorns, but the tree and the
-book must come out before we can measure them. Firmness of purpose is
-one of the most necessary sinews of character, and one of the best
-instruments of success. Without it, genius wastes its efforts in a maze
-of inconsistencies. It gives power to weakness, and opens to poverty the
-world's mark. It spreads fertility over the barren landscape, and bids
-the choicest fruits and flowers spring up and flourish in the desert
-abode. There is, perhaps, nothing more conducive to success in any
-important and difficult undertaking than a firm, steady, unremitting
-spirit. In seasons of distress and difficulty, to abandon ourselves to
-dejection is evidence of a weak mind. Opposing circumstances often
-create strength, both mental and physical. Opposition gives us greater
-power of resistance. To overcome one barrier gives us greater ability to
-overcome the next. It is cowardice to grumble about circumstances.
-Instead of sinking under trouble, it becomes us, in the evil day, with
-perseverance to maintain our part, to bear up against the storm, to have
-recourse to those advantages, which, in the worst of times, are always
-left to integrity and virtue, and never to give up the hope that better
-days may come.
-
-It is wonderful to see what miracles a resolute and unyielding will can
-achieve. Before its irresistible energy the most formidable obstacles
-become as cobweb barriers in the path. Difficulties, the terrors of
-which cause the irresolute to sink back with dismay, provoke from the
-man of lofty determination only a smile. The whole history of our race,
-all nature, indeed, teems with examples to show what wonders may be
-accomplished by resolute perseverance and patient toil. How many there
-are who, thinking of the immense amount of work lying between them and
-the object of their desires, are almost ready to give up in despair! But
-do they not, when they view the work thus in mass, forget that there is
-time enough, if only rightly improved, to suffice for each effort?
-
-One step after another, perseveringly continued, will enable you to
-arrive at your journey's end, however long it may be. It is only when
-you come to reckon up the aggregate number of steps that you are ready
-to sink under a feeling of despair. But you are not required to take
-them all at once; there is an allotted time for each individual step.
-Thus, in viewing any work that you may have marked out in life, only
-remember that you are not obliged to do the work all at once; that the
-regular daily portions performed quietly and systematically, day after
-day, will enable you to achieve almost any desired result. When we
-reflect on the wonderful results that perseverance has accomplished, we
-are led to believe that the man who wills, resolves, and perseveres can
-do almost any thing.
-
-Every one, then, regardless of his condition in life, should set his aim
-high, and resolve to remit no labor necessary for its realization, but
-cheerfully take up the trials and burdens that life has in store for
-him, and carry them forward, be the discouragements what they may, to a
-glorious consummation. Only learn to carry a thing through in all of its
-details, and you have measured the secret of success. Only learn to
-persevere in carrying out any plan of work which an enlightened judgment
-decides is the best, and you will force life to yield you its grandest
-triumphs. There is almost no limit to what you can achieve if you thus
-govern your actions, and make all your exertions contribute to the
-fulfilling of some great purpose of life, which you took up with a brave
-heart, and with a determination to persevere therein until success
-crowns your efforts.
-
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-
-
-[Illustration: ENTERPRISE.]
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-
-[Illustration]
-
-Closely allied with the qualities of self-reliance and energy is that
-characteristic quality which so much conduces to success in life, and is
-generally expressed by the word "enterprise." It is distinct from
-energy, inasmuch as it is constantly active in discovering new fields
-for energy to exert itself in. We are familiar with examples of men who
-have won fortunes or gained renown, not because they pursued better or
-wiser courses, but because of some originality in their aims and
-methods, by which they were enabled to command the attention of the busy
-world long enough to wrest from it the special object of their choice.
-
-True enterprise is constantly on the alert to discover some new want of
-society, some fertile source of profit or honor, some unexplored field
-of business, and is ready to supply the one or to take advantage of the
-other. It is nearly an indispensable element in these days of fierce
-competition. Every avenue of business is crowded, and as soon as it is
-known that one party has made a success by one method there are scores
-of eager aspirants ready to try the successful plan, so that straightway
-it, too, ceases to be unique, and, in becoming common, loses the power
-it formerly possessed of compelling success. Hence the late-comers in
-the field are doomed to failure, while they may at the same time be the
-better fitted for the peculiar work in hand. What they should do is to
-aim at success by new plans and methods. Every one knows the
-enthusiastic glow that animates the whole being of him who feels the
-ardor of an explorer, who surmounts difficulties by new and, before,
-unthought-of expedients, who plans and projects enterprises that had
-previously escaped the active minds of his fellow men.
-
-It is by virtue of this very enthusiasm that the man of enterprise, who
-is so ready to adopt new measures, plans, and projects, is enabled to
-carry into his business or profession an energy and inspiration which is
-totally lacking on the part of those who are followers. Hence the latter
-ofttimes fail of success which their talents might almost be said to
-have promised them. Therefore, those who enter the lists to win life's
-battles must expect, if they would reach their goal, to wage the fight
-not only by the old methods but by the new. To use only those tactics
-which are sanctioned by usage is to invite defeat. Throw open the
-windows of your mind to new ideas, and keep at least abreast of the
-times, and, if possible, ahead of them. Nothing is more fatal to
-self-advancement than a stupid conservatism or a servile imitation. The
-days when a man could get rich by plodding on without enterprise and
-without taxing his brains have gone by. Mere industry and economy are
-not enough; there must be intelligence and original thought.
-
-Whatever your calling, inventiveness, adaptability, promptness of
-decision, must direct and utilize your force, and if you do not find
-markets you must make them. In business you need not know many books,
-but you must know your trade and men. You may be slow at logic, but you
-must dart at chances. You may stick to your groove in politics, but in
-your business you must switch into new tracks, and shape yourself to
-every exigency. We emphasize this matter because in no country is the
-red-tapist so out of place as here. Every calling is filled with bold,
-keen, subtle-witted men, fertile in expedients and devices, who are
-perpetually inventing new ways of buying cheaply, underselling, or
-attracting custom; and the man who sticks doggedly to the old-fashioned
-methods—who runs in a perpetual rut—will find himself outstripped in
-the race of life, if he is not stranded on the sands of popular
-indifference. Keep, then, your eyes open and your wits about you, and
-you may distance all competitors; but, if you ignore all new methods,
-you will find yourself like a lugger contending with an ocean steamer.
-
-It is enterprise that oils the wheels of energy and industry. Industry
-gathers together, with a frugal hand, the means whereby we are enabled
-to develop our plans and purposes. Energy gives us force whereby we
-gather the courage to persevere in the lines decided on, bids us put on
-a bold mien and go forth to do valiant battle against opposing
-circumstances. But it is enterprise that suggests ways and means to
-overcome difficulties that threaten to overwhelm us. It is enterprise
-that bids us explore entirely new fields, discovering expedients that
-enable us to change what, by the force of circumstances, was fast
-becoming a failure into a glorious victory, bringing to us wealth,
-position, and fame. It is to enterprise that we are indebted for those
-rich discoveries in scientific fields by which we decipher the records
-of past ages, and unravel the secrets which nature surrounded with
-mystery, compelling them to serve us.
-
-It was enterprise that harnessed steam, teaching it to do our bidding,
-and brought the lightning down from the heavens to carry our thoughts to
-the uttermost parts of the earth. It is the spirit of enterprise driving
-curious minds to work in new directions that has given us all those
-useful and curious inventions, which have done so much to make this
-nineteenth-century civilization to shine with so lustrous a light. In
-short, it is enterprise that lifts the man of but mediocre abilities and
-attainments into the foremost ranks of the successful ones.
-
-Enterprise is an inheritance and not an acquisition. But it can at the
-same time be improved by cultivation, the same as bodily strength or any
-mental faculty. He who would excel as a swimmer must be often in the
-water, and the gymnast does not spare himself long and fatiguing
-exertions. So of an enterprising spirit. Some men seem born with an
-overflow of this, while others possess it in a slight degree only. But
-if any would be known as enterprising men, they must not hesitate to
-show by their every-day actions that they rely upon themselves in cases
-of emergency, and the greater the necessity the better means of
-surmounting it are constantly discovered. They must not hesitate to try
-plans because they are new; but if sober judgment can discover no
-objection to it, they must seize upon the very novelty of the plan as an
-inducement, and be only the more eager to put it to the test. There is
-no life so routine but that it constantly affords scope for the exercise
-of enterprising energy. The very fact that you are finding it routine
-and commonplace should at once set you to work to devise some new way to
-change this.
-
-Do not stand sighing, wishing, and waiting, but go to work with an
-energy and perseverance that will set every obstacle in the way of your
-success flying like leaves before a whirlwind. A weak and irresolute way
-of doing business will shipwreck your plans as readily as effects follow
-causes. You may have ambition enough to wish yourself on the topmost
-round of the ladder of success; but if you have not the requisite energy
-to commence and enterprise enough to push ahead even when you know you
-are off the beaten track, you will always remain at the bottom, or at
-least on the lower rounds. Providence has hidden a charm in difficult
-undertakings which is appreciated only by those who dare to grapple with
-them. But this can only be true when you, by your own exertions and the
-strength of your own self-reliance and enterprise, have achieved the
-results. Nothing can be more distasteful than to see men of apparently
-good abilities waiting for some one to come and help them over
-difficulties.
-
-Be your own helper. If a rock rises up before you, roll it along or
-climb over it. If you want money, earn it. If you want confidence, prove
-yourself worthy of it. Do not be content with doing what has been done;
-surpass it. Deserve success and it will come. The sun does not rise like
-a rocket or go down like a bullet fired from a gun; slowly and surely it
-makes its rounds, and never tires. It is as easy to be a lead horse as a
-wheel horse. If the job be long, the pay will be greater; if the task be
-hard, the more competent you must be to do it. We must apportion our
-strength and exertions to the requisite tasks and duties. He who weakly
-shrinks from the struggle, who will offer no resistance, who will endure
-no labor nor fatigue, can neither fulfill his own vocation, nor
-contribute aught to the general welfare of mankind.
-
-The spirit of the times demands that all who would rise in life shrink
-not back from labor, but it also demands that they exert themselves
-understandingly; that they spare no effort to master all the intricacies
-of the business or vocation in which they are engaged; that they be
-alert to discover new ways by which they may reach the desired goal
-easier than the old; that they bear in mind that sticking to the old
-ruts is only the right policy so long as no better way presents itself,
-and when that way is discovered, be not at all slow to improve it. If
-you do not, others more enterprising will rush forward to reap the
-profits it promises, and you will be left behind in the race. No matter
-what your position in life may be or the conditions which hem you in,
-there will be a "tide" in your affairs, "which, taken at its flood,
-leads on to fortune." But you must be ready to accept the chance. While
-you are hesitating and deliberating the occasion goes by, in most cases
-never to return again. Therefore, be prompt to seize it as it flies.
-Cultivate as far as possible the spirit of enterprise, for on that in a
-great degree depends your success or failure.
-
-[Illustration]
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-
-
-[Illustration: ENERGY.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Energy is force of character, inward power. It imports such a
-concentration of the will upon the realization of an idea as to impel it
-onward over the next gigantic barrier, or to crush every opposing force
-that stands in the way of its triumph. Energy knows of nothing but
-success. It will not hearken to the voice of discouragement; it never
-yields its purpose. Though it may perish beneath an avalanche of
-difficulties, yet it dies contending for its ideal.
-
-There is, perhaps, no mistake of a young man more common than that of
-supposing that, in the pursuits of life, extraordinary talents are
-necessary to one who would achieve more than ordinary success. There is
-no greater genius than the genius of energy and industry, It wins the
-prizes of life, which appeared destined to fall to those brilliantly
-constituted minds, who, to an artificial observer, seemed to be the
-favored sons of fortune. But they lacked energy, and in that want lacked
-all. Energy of temperament, with a moderate degree of wisdom, will carry
-a man farther than any amount of intellect without it. It gives him
-force, momentum. It is the active power of character, and, if combined
-with sagacity and self-possession, will enable a man to employ his power
-to the best advantage in all the affairs of life. Hence it is that men
-of mediocre power, but impelled by energy of purpose, have often been
-able to accomplish such extraordinary results.
-
-The men who have most powerfully influenced the world have not been so
-much men of genius as men of strong convictions and enduring capacity
-for work, impelled by irresistible energy and invincible determination.
-Energy of will, self-originating force, is the soul of every great
-character. Where it is, there is life; where it is not, there is
-faintness, helplessness, and despondency. There is a proverb which says
-that "the strong man and the waterfall channel their own path." The
-energetic leader of noble spirit not only wins a way for himself, but
-carries others with him. His very act has a personal signification,
-indicating vigor, independence, and self-reliance, and unconsciously
-commands respect, admiration, and homage. Such intrepidity is the
-attribute of all great leaders of men.
-
-There is a difference between resolution and energy. Resolution is the
-purpose, energy is the quality, and it is possible to possess much
-resolution with comparatively very little energy. Energy implies a
-fixed, settled, and unswerving purpose; but resolution may vary its
-inclination a thousand ways and embrace a thousand objects, keeping up,
-perhaps, an air of steadiness and determination, while, in reality,
-nothing may be accomplished. There is observable the same difference
-between resolution and energy as there is between kindness and
-goodness—kindness being displayed by occasional acts of good-will,
-whilst goodness exists always, by a principle of love. Do not make the
-mistake of confounding energy with rashness. Energy is a Bucephalus,
-guided by the hand of an Alexander. Rashness is a Mazeppa's fiery steed,
-unbridled and unrestrained, bearing its rider over hill and dale to
-probable destruction. The former is power guided by wisdom; the latter
-is power goaded to action by blind impulse.
-
-Energy, to reach its highest development, must be controlled by wisdom.
-Many men now pining under discouragement have expended energy sufficient
-for the highest success. But they have failed of their reward because
-they have not sought counsel at the lips of wisdom. Rash enterprises
-impetuously begun hurry them on to ruin. True energy is ever the same;
-but the energy of many men is impulsive. It is to-day a destroying,
-roaring torrent; yesterday it was a stagnant pool. An accidental
-circumstance will call out every power of their soul, and for a season
-they will excel themselves and startle their friends. But they speedily
-expend their force, and lapse into stupid somnolency, till aroused by
-some bugle-blast of excitement. Such minds accomplish but little. They
-lose more in their slumbers than they gain in their fitful hours of
-action. The calm, steady energy of the snail, slow as are its movements,
-is better calculated to produce results than the spasmodic leaps of the
-hare. Hence, in the formation of character, it is of the utmost
-importance to cultivate a steady, uniform, unyielding energy. The quiet
-energy that works to accomplishment is what rules the world. There is
-more energy shown in quietly doing your duty through years of patient
-toil than to rush with great clamor at the obstacles of life, only to
-relinquish the attempt if success does not immediately crown the effort.
-The game of life is won less by brilliant strokes than by energetic yet
-cautious play.
-
-Energy of character has always a power to make energy in others. The
-zealous, energetic man unconsciously carries others along with him. His
-example is contagious, and compels imitation. He exercises a sort of
-electric power, which sends a thrill through every fiber, flows into the
-nature of those about him, and makes them throw out sparks of power. But
-such men are but few; and for one man that appears on the stage of human
-affairs that can rule events there are thousands who follow. The earnest
-men are so few in the world that their very earnestness becomes at once
-the badge of their nobility; and as the men in a crowd instinctively
-make room for one who seems to force his way through it, so mankind
-every-where open their ranks to one who rushes valiantly toward some
-object lying beyond them.
-
-Man is but a feeble being, but he belittles his high estate unless he
-puts forth his exertion, and forms a commendable and heroic resolution
-not to permit life to pass away in trifles, but to accomplish something
-in spite of obstacles. At difficulties be not dismayed. We may magnify
-them by weakness and despondency, when an heroic spirit would have put
-them to flight. There are cobble-stones in every road and pebbles in
-every path. All have cares, disappointments, and stumbling-blocks. It
-were well to remember, though, that sobs and cries, groans and regrets
-are of no avail, but that high resolves and courageous actions may with
-safety be relied on to do much to lighten life's load. He who never
-grappled with the emergencies of life knows not what power lives in the
-soul to repel the rude shocks of time and destiny, nor is he conscious
-how much he is
-
- "Blest with a kindly faculty to blunt
- The edge of adverse circumstances."
-
-All traditions current among young men that certain great characters
-have wrought their greatness by an inspiration, as it were, grows out of
-a sad mistake. There is no inspiration so potent for good as the
-inspiration of energy. There are none who wrest such conquests from fame
-as those earnest, determined minds, who reckon the value of every hour,
-and rely on their own strong arm to achieve their ambitious resolves.
-You can not dream yourself into a character; you must hammer and forge
-yourself one. But remember, there is always room for a man of force, and
-he makes room for many. It is a Spanish proverb that "he who loseth
-wealth loseth much; he who loseth a friend loseth more; but he who
-loseth energy loseth all." It is folly for a man or woman to sit down in
-mid-life discouraged. True, it is a severe test of character calmly to
-reflect that life has thus far proved a failure, but it does no good to
-abandon one's self to despair. With energy and God's blessing it is
-possible they may yet win a glorious victory. God in his wisdom has seen
-fit to so ordain that life with all shall be a scene of labor. To make
-the most of it, it is necessary to make the aim high and noble, the
-energy unflagging. No matter how apparently solid the foundations on
-which we stand, it often happens that by the remission of labor and
-energy, poverty and contempt, disaster and defeat steal a march upon
-prosperity and honor, and overwhelm us with remorse and shame.
-
-It is energy that makes the difference in men. It is the genius of
-persevering energy that carries so many men straight to the goal of
-success. It is energy that sheds the light of hope on pathways that had
-been lost save for that, and thus enables so many men and women to
-persevere therein. It is energy that calls upon all—and calls upon
-you—to rouse yourself. Would you make a success of life? Would you
-acquire fortune or renown? It bids you take heart and hope for the best.
-It bids you walk in the paths of patience, to do with all your might
-what you have marked out as necessary to do. It bids you pursue it with
-resolution and vigor.
-
-A young man is, in the true sense of the word, the architect of his own
-fortune. Rely upon your own strength of body and soul. Remember that the
-man who wills it can go almost anywhere or do almost any thing he
-determines to do. You must make yourself, or come to nothing. You must
-win by your own exertions, and not wait for some one to come to your
-assistance. Take for your star self-reliance, faith, honesty, and
-industry. Keep at the helm, and, above all, remember that the great art
-of commanding is to do a fair share of the work yourself. The greater
-the difficulty the more the glory in surmounting it. Skillful pilots
-gain their reputation from storms and tempests. The soul of every great
-achievement is energy; but enervation and indolence sap its life, and
-doom the man to obscurity and ill-success. Men of feeble action are
-accustomed to attribute their misfortune to what is termed _ill luck_.
-They envy the men who climb the ladder of eminence, and call them lucky
-men and men of peculiar opportunity. This is a vain and foolish
-imagination. Energy produces good fortune and success, while enervation
-breeds misfortune and ill luck.
-
-Fortune, success, fame, position are never gained but by determinedly
-and bravely persevering in any course until the plans are finally
-accomplished. In short, you must carry a thing through if you want to be
-any body or any thing, no matter if it does cost you the pleasure of
-society, the thousand pearly gratifications of life. Stick to the thing
-and carry it through. Believe you were made for the matter, and that no
-one else could do it. Put forth your whole energies. Be awake; electrify
-yourself; go forth to the task. Learn to carry it through, and you will
-be a hero. You will think better of yourself. Others will think better
-of you. The world in its very heart admires the stern, determined doer.
-It sees in him its best sights, its brightest objects, its richest
-treasures. Proceed with energy, then, in whatever you undertake.
-Consider yourself amply sufficient for the deed, and you will succeed.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: PUNCTUALITY.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Amongst the elements which conduce to success in life there is one of
-rare value, which, by some strange oversight, is classed as of little
-account. We refer to punctuality. We regard it as a virtue. To be
-punctual in all of your appointments is a duty resting upon you no less
-obligatory than the duty of common honesty. An appointment is a
-contract, and if you do not keep it you are dishonestly using other
-people's time, and, consequently, their money. "Punctuality," says Louis
-XIV, "is the politeness of kings." He need not have confined his remarks
-to blood royal; it is politeness in every body; and know that whenever
-you fail to meet an engagement promptly, which by exertion you might
-have done, you are guilty of a gross breach of etiquette.
-
-It is certainly impolite to do a wrong to others and when you have made
-an appointment with another person you owe him punctuality, and you have
-no right to waste his time if you have your own. Success and happiness
-depend in a far higher degree on punctuality than many suppose. It is
-not sufficient to do the right thing, nor in the right way, but it must
-be done at the right time as well, if we would reap the rewards of our
-labor. But when so done its effect in the problem of success is great
-and efficacious. Lord Nelson attributed all his success in life to his
-habit of strict punctuality. Many of our most successful business men
-date their success from the time they commenced to practice this virtue.
-Thousands have failed in life from carelessness in this respect alone.
-Nothing inspires confidence in a business man sooner than this quality;
-nor is there any habit which sooner saps his reputation as a good
-business man than that of being always behind time.
-
-Lack of punctuality is not only a serious vice in itself, but it is also
-the parent of a large progeny of other vices. Hence he who becomes its
-victim is the more and more involved in toils from which it is almost
-impossible to escape. He who needlessly breaks his appointments shows
-that he is as reckless of the waste of other people's time as of his
-own. His acquaintances readily conclude that the man who is not
-conscientious about his appointments will be equally careless about his
-other engagements, and they will refuse to trust him with matters of
-importance. To the busy man time is money, and he who robs him of it
-does him as great an injury, as far as loss of property is concerned, as
-if he had picked his pockets or paid him with a forged or counterfeit
-bill.
-
-It is a familiar truth that punctuality is the life of the universe. The
-planets keep exact time in their revolutions, each as it circles around
-the sun coming to its place yearly at the very moment it is due. So, in
-business, punctuality is the soul of industry, without which all its
-wheels come to a dead stand. If the time of a business man be properly
-occupied every hour will have its appropriate work. If the work of one
-hour be postponed to another it must encroach upon the time of some
-other duty, or remain undone, and thus the whole business of the day is
-thrown into disorder. If that which is first at hand be not instantly,
-steadily, and regularly dispatched other things accumulate behind, till
-affairs begin to accumulate all at once, and no human brain can stand
-the pressure.
-
-Punctuality should be made not only a point of courtesy but a point of
-conscience. The beginner in business should make this virtue one of the
-first objects of professional acquisition. Let him not deceive himself
-with the idea that it is easy of attainment, or that he can practice it
-by and by, when the necessity of it shall be more cogent. If in youth it
-is not easy to be punctual, then in after life, when the character is
-fixed, when the mental and moral faculties have acquired a rigidity, to
-unlearn the habit of tardiness is almost an impossibility. It still
-holds a man enthralled, though the reason be fully convinced of its
-criminality and inconvenience.
-
-A right estimate of the value of time is the best and surest foundation
-for habits of punctuality, for you are not likely to economize time,
-either for yourself or others, unless you fully realize how valuable it
-is, and when lost how utterly irreclaimable. The successful men in every
-calling have had a keen sense of the value of time—they have been
-misers of minutes. Hence you must try and realize the value of time.
-Each hour, as it passes swiftly away, is gone _forever_. Lost wealth may
-be replaced by toil and industry; lost friends may be regained by
-consideration and patience; lost health may be recovered by medical
-skill and care; even lost happiness and peace of mind may be restored;
-but lost time, never. Whilst you read these lines it is being numbered
-with the dead past and dying present. There is no recalling it; there is
-no regaining it; there is no restoring it. You must make the most of
-time as it flies. You have no right to waste your own, still less, then,
-that of others, by your lack of punctuality.
-
-Not only should a person be thus punctual in all his express engagements
-and appointments, but in all his implied ones as well. If he has a
-regular hour for his shop or office, let it find him there, at his desk
-and at work. Punctuality in the performance of known duties other than
-the keeping of appointments is also one of the chief promoters of
-success in life. If a certain work or other duty is to be performed, we
-are too prone to put it off for a more convenient season. Such delays
-are often a fruitful source of after troubles. How many business men
-have been brought to bankruptcy and ruin by the failure of one man to
-meet his obligations promptly! How many times are we put to great work
-and expense because we neglected, or put off, the performance of
-admitted duties! It is easy to say, "Wait awhile;" so easy to let the
-burden of to-day's work and duties fall on to-morrow. But when to-morrow
-comes it has its own peculiar duties, and the result is, we simply have
-extra burdens to meet when the time finally comes that our work can no
-longer be delayed.
-
-Punctuality is a virtue that can give force and power to an otherwise
-utterly insignificant character. Like charity, it covers a multitude of
-sins. It were easy to show by examples from the lives of great men that
-their success in life was owing in a large measure to their habits of
-punctuality. All great commanders have possessed this faculty in an
-eminent degree. The reason punctuality is such an invariable element of
-success is not hard to determine. The punctual person, one who always
-lives up to his engagements, and is prompt in fulfilling his implied
-duties as well, is just the person whose business is conducted after the
-most approved forms and methods. They are the ones who have time at
-their disposal to cast their eyes over the field of legitimate
-enterprise, and at once adopt whatever may seem to them to possess real
-excellence. Having met all their engagements promptly, their word is as
-good as their bond, their credit unshaken; in short, every avenue of
-success is open to them.
-
-But with those persons who are habitually behind in the fulfillment of
-their duties, their business is generally in a very unsettled state.
-They have not that freshness and business vivacity and life which is
-always observable in the man who drives his business instead of allowing
-it to drive him. What wonder, then, that they sink beneath the load of
-accumulated cares, give up the great battle of life in despair, and are
-content to fill a subordinate place in the economy of the world? Would
-that young men thought more of what is involved in punctuality! It is
-not merely the "being on time," but it imports such a habit that,
-carried into life, it is one of the main instruments in making real
-youthful dreams of success. It is that which makes business a pleasure
-instead of a drudgery. It is that which goes so far in building up a
-reputation of sagacity, skill, and integrity.
-
-No one can have a high opinion of a person who is so regardless of
-punctuality, even in small matters, as to be continually breaking his
-word, under the impression that "it is of no consequence," as so many
-often say, to excuse their habit of being false to their word. There are
-some persons who seldom, or never, do as they promised. We know persons,
-who in other respects are worthy people, who can scarcely command
-confidence, because they are so slack in fulfilling their engagements
-and meeting their obligations in small matters. We know young men of
-promise who are daily losing ground among their acquaintances for a
-similar reason. A man will soon ruin himself this way. In all business
-transactions, in all engagements, let all do exactly as they say,—be
-punctual to the minute; even a little beforehand is far preferable to
-being a little behind time. Such a habit secures a composure which is
-essential to happiness.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: CONCENTRATION.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-In this day, when so many things are clamoring for attention, the first
-law of success may be said to be concentration. It is impossible to be
-successful in every branch of business, or renowned in every department
-of a professional life. We must learn to bend our energies to one point,
-and to go directly to that point, looking neither to the right nor to
-the left. It has been said that a great deal of the wisdom of a man in
-this century is shown in leaving things unknown, and a great deal of his
-practical ability in leaving things undone. The day of universal
-scholarships is past. Life is short, and art is long. The range of human
-wisdom has increased so enormously that no human brain can grapple with
-it, and the man who would know one thing well must have the courage to
-be ignorant of a thousand other things, however attractive or
-interesting. As with knowledge, so with work. The man who would get
-along must single out his specialty, and into that must pour the whole
-stream of his activity—all the energies of his hand, eye, tongue,
-heart, and brain. Broad culture, many-sidedness, are beautiful things to
-contemplate; but it is the narrow-edged men—the men of one single and
-intense purpose—who steel the soul against all things else, that
-accomplish the hard work of the world.
-
-The great men of every age who have had the arduous task to shape human
-destiny have been men of one idea impelled by resolute energy. Take
-those names that are historic, and, with the exception of a few great
-creative minds, you find them to be men who are identified with some one
-achievement upon which their life force was spent. The great majority of
-men must concentrate their energies upon the complete mastery of some
-one profession, trade, or calling, or they will experience the
-disappointment of those whose empire has been lost in the ambition of
-universal conquest. A man may have the most dazzling talents, but if
-they are scattered upon many objects he will accomplish nothing.
-Strength is like gunpowder: to be effective it needs concentration and
-aim. The marksman who aims at the whole target will seldom hit the
-center. The literary man or philosopher may revel among the sweetest and
-most beautiful flowers of thought, but unless he gathers or condenses
-these in the honeycomb of some great thought or work, his finest
-conceptions will be lost or useless.
-
-The world has few universal geniuses who are capable of mastering a
-dozen languages, arts, or sciences, or driving a dozen callings abreast.
-Beginners in life are perpetually complaining of the disadvantages under
-which they labor; but it is an indisputable fact that more persons fail
-from a multiplicity of pursuits and pretensions than from a poverty of
-resources. "The one prudence in life," says a shrewd American essayist,
-"is concentration, the one evil is dissipation; and it makes no
-difference whether our dissipations are coarse or fine, property and its
-cares, friends and a social habit, politics, music, or feasting. Every
-thing is good which takes away one plaything and delusion more, and
-drives us home to add one stroke of faithful work." The gardener does
-not suffer the sap to be driven into a thousand channels merely to
-develop a myriad of profitless twigs. He prunes the branches, and leaves
-the vital juices to be absorbed by a few vigorous, fruit-bearing
-branches.
-
-While the highest ability accomplishes but little if scattered on a
-multiplicity of objects, on the other hand, if one has but a thimbleful
-of brains, and concentrates them upon the thing he has in hand, he may
-achieve miracles. Momentum in physics, if properly directed, will drive
-a tallow candle through an inch board. Just so will oneness of aim and
-the direction of the energies to a single pursuit, while all others are
-waived, enable the veriest weakling to make his mark where he strikes.
-The general who scatters his soldiers all about the country insures
-defeat; so does he whose attention is diffused through innumerable
-channels, so that it can not gather in force on any one point. The human
-mind, in short, resembles a burning-glass, whose rays are intense only
-as they are concentrated. As the glass burns only when its rays are
-converged to a focal point, so the former illumes the world of science,
-literature, or business only when it is directed to a solitary object.
-What is more powerless than the scattered clouds of steam as they rise
-to the sky? They are as impotent as the dew-drop that falls nightly upon
-the earth; but concentrated and condensed in a steam boiler they are
-able to cut through solid rock, to hurl mountains into the sea, and to
-bring the antipodes to our doors.
-
-It is the lack of concentration and wholeness which distinguishes the
-shabby, half-hearted, and blundering—the men who make the mob of
-life—from those who win victories. In slower times success might have
-been won by the man who gave but a corner of his brain to the work in
-hand, but in these days of keen competition it demands the intensest
-application of the thinking faculty. Exclusive dealings in worldly
-pursuits is a principle of hundred-headed power. By dividing his time
-among too many objects, a man of genius often becomes diamond dust
-instead of diamond. The time spent by many persons in profitless,
-desultory reading would, if concentrated upon a single line of study,
-have made them masters of an entire branch of literature or science.
-Distraction of pursuits is the rock upon which most unsuccessful persons
-split in early life. In law, in medicine, in trade, in the mechanical
-professions the most successful persons have been those who have stuck
-to one thing. Nine out of ten men lay out their plans on too vast a
-scale, and they who are competent to do almost any thing do nothing,
-because they never make up their minds distinctly as to what they want
-or what they intend to be.
-
-We are often compelled to a choice of acquisitions, for there are some
-things the possession of which is incompatible with the possession of
-others, and the sooner this truth is known and recognized the better the
-chances of success and happiness. Much material good must be resigned if
-we would attain the highest degree of moral excellence, and many
-spiritual joys must be foregone if we resolve at all risks to win great
-material advantages. To strive for a high personal position, and yet
-expect to have all the delights of leisure; to labor for vast riches,
-and yet to ask for freedom from anxiety and care, and all the happiness
-which flows from a contented mind; to indulge in sensual gratifications,
-and yet demand health, strength, and vigor; to live for self, and yet to
-look for the joys that spring from a virtuous and self-denying life—is
-to ask for impossibilities.
-
-If you start for success you must expect to pay its price. It can not be
-won by feeble, half-way efforts, neither is it to be acquired because
-sought for in a dozen different directions. It demands that you bring to
-your chosen profession or calling energy, industry, and, above all, that
-singleness of purpose which is willing to devote the energies of a
-life-time to its accomplishment. Mere wishing and sighing brings it not.
-Many little calls of society on your time must pass unheeded. You can
-not expect to live tranquilly and at your ease, but to be up and doing,
-with all your energies devoted to the one point kept constantly in view.
-Cultivate this habit of concentration if you would succeed in business;
-make it a second nature. Have a work for every moment, and mind the
-moment's work. Whatever your calling, master all its bearings and
-details, all its principles, instruments, and applications. We have so
-much work ahead of us that must be done if we would reach the point
-desired that we must save our strength as much as possible.
-Concentration affords a great safe-guard against exhaustion. He who
-scatters himself on many objects soon loses his energy, and with his
-energy his enthusiasm—and how is success possible without enthusiasm?
-
-It becomes, then, of importance to be sure we have started right in the
-race for distinction. Every beginner in life should strive early to
-ascertain the strong faculty of his mind or body fitting him for some
-special pursuit, and direct his utmost energies to bring it to
-perfection. There is no adaptation or universal applicability in man;
-but each has his special talent, and the mastery of successful men is in
-adroitly keeping themselves where and when that turn shall need oftenest
-to be practiced.
-
-Though one must be wholly absorbed to win success, still singleness of
-aim by no means implies monotony of action; but if we would be felt on
-this stirring planet, if we would strike the world with lasting force,
-we must be men of one thing. Having found the thing we have to do we
-must throw into it all the energies of our being, seeking its
-accomplishment at whatever hazard or sacrifice. But that does not
-prevent us from participating in the enjoyments of life. If you are sent
-on business to some foreign land, though bent on business, still you can
-admire, as you hurry along, the beautiful scenery from the car windows;
-you can note the strange places through which you pass; you can observe
-the wondrous sublimity of the ocean without being distracted from the
-main objects of your travels. So it is not to be inferred from what has
-been said that concentration means isolation or self-absorption. There
-may be a hundred accessories in life, provided they contribute to one
-result.
-
-In urging the importance of concentration, and of sticking to one thing,
-we do not mean that any man should be a mere lawyer, a mere doctor, or a
-mere merchant or mechanic, and nothing more. These are cases of
-one-sidedness pushed too far. There is no more pitiable wreck than the
-man whose one giant faculty has drowned the rest. Man dwarfs himself if
-he pushes too far the doctrine of the subdivision of labor. Success is
-purchased too dear if to attain it one has subordinated all his
-faculties and tastes to one master passion, and become transformed into
-a head, a hand, or an arm, instead of a man. Every man ought to be
-something more than a factor in some grand formula of social or
-economical science, a cog or pulley in some grand machine.
-
-Let every one take care, first of all, to be a man, cultivating and
-developing, as far as possible, all of his powers on a symmetrical plan;
-and then let him expend his chief labors on the one faculty, which
-nature, by making it prominent, has given a hint should be especially
-cultivated. There is, indeed, no profession upon which a high degree of
-knowledge will not continually bear. Things which, at first glance, seem
-most remote from it will often be brought into close approximation to
-it, and acquisitions which the narrow-minded might deem a hindrance will
-sooner or later yield something serviceable. Nothing is more beautiful
-than to see a man hold his art, trade, or calling in an easy, disengaged
-way, wearing it as the soldier does his sword, which, once laid aside,
-the accomplished soldier gives you no hint that he has ever worn. Too
-often this is not the case, and the shop-keeper irresistibly reminds you
-of the shop, and the scholar, who should remind you that he has been on
-Parnassus only by the odors of the flowers he has crushed, which cling
-to his feet, affronts you with a huge nosegay stuck in his bosom.
-
-One can make all his energies bear on one important point and yet show
-himself a man among men by his interest in matters of public concern. He
-can endear himself to the community by kindly acts to the distressed, as
-well as completely mastering, in all its bearings, the one great work
-which he has taken upon himself as his life's work. Then take up your
-task. Remember that you must marshall all your forces at one point, and
-move in one direction, if you would accomplish what your desires have
-painted; but also remember that you are a human being, and not a
-machine, and that as you pass on the journey of life you should, as far
-as possible, without insuring defeat, take note of the wonders which
-nature has spread before you, should ponder on what history says of the
-past, should muse over the solemn import of life, and thus, while
-winning laurels for your brow, and achieving your heart's desire,
-develop in you the faculties which go to make, in its complete meaning,
-a man or woman.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: DECISION.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-There is one quality of mind which of all others is most likely to make
-our fortunes if combined with talents, or to ruin them without it. We
-allude to that quality of the mind which under given circumstances acts
-with a mathematical precision. With such minds to resolve and to act is
-instantaneous. They seem to precede the march of events, to foresee
-results in the chrysalis of their causes, and to seize that moment for
-exertion which others use in deliberation. There are occasions when
-action must be taken at once. There is no time to long and carefully
-calculate the chances. The occasion calls for immediate action; and the
-call must be met, or the time goes by, and our utmost exertions can not
-bring it back. At such times is seen the triumph of those who have
-carefully trained all their faculties to a habit of prompt decision.
-They seize the occasion, and make the thought start into instant action;
-they at once plan and perform, resolve and execute.
-
-It is but a truism to say that there can be no success in life without
-decision of character. Even brains are secondary in importance to will.
-The intellect is but the half of a man; the will is the driving-wheel,
-the spring of motive power. A vacillating man, no matter what his
-abilities, is invariably pushed aside in the race of life by one of
-determined will. It is he who resolves to succeed, and at every fresh
-rebuff begins resolutely again, that reaches the goal. The shores of
-fortune are covered with the stranded wrecks of men of brilliant
-abilities, but who have wanted courage, faith, and decision, and have
-therefore perished in sight of more resolute, but less capable
-adventurers, who succeeded in making port. Hundreds of men go to their
-graves in obscurity who have remained obscure only because they lacked
-the pluck to make the first effort, and who, could they only have
-resolved to begin, would have astonished the world by their achievements
-and successes.
-
-To do any thing in this world that is worth doing we must not stand
-shivering on the bank, and thinking of the cold and the danger, but jump
-in and scramble through as well as we can. The world was not made for
-slow, squeamish, fastidious men, but for those who act promptly and with
-power. Obstacles and perplexities every man must meet, and he must
-either conquer them or they will conquer _him_. Hesitation is a sign of
-weakness, for inasmuch as the comparative good and evil of the different
-modes of action about which we hesitate are seldom equally balanced, a
-strong mind should perceive the slightest inclination of the beam with
-the glance of an eagle, particularly as there will be cases where the
-preponderance will be very _minute_, even though there should be life in
-one scale and death in the other. It is better occasionally to decide
-wrong than to be forever wavering and hesitating, now veering to this
-side and then to that, with all the misery and disaster that follow from
-continual doubt.
-
-It has been truly said that the great moral victories and defeats of the
-world often turn on minutes. Fortune is proverbially a fickle jade, and
-there is nothing like promptness of action, the timing of things at the
-lucky moment, to force her to surrender her favors. Crises come, the
-seizing of which is triumph, the neglect of which is ruin. It is this
-lack of promptness, so characteristic of the gladiatorial intellect, of
-this readiness to meet every attack of ill-fortune with counter
-resources of evasion, which causes so many defeats of life.
-
-There is a race of narrow wits that never succeed for want of courage.
-Their understanding is of that halting, hesitating kind, which gives
-just light enough to see difficulties and start doubts, but not enough
-to surmount the one or remove the other. They do not know what force of
-character means. They seem to have no backbone, but only the mockery of
-a vertebral column made of india-rubber, equally pliant in all
-directions. They come and go like shadows, sandwich their sentences with
-apologies, are overtaken by events while still irresolute, and let the
-tide ebb before they feebly push off. Always brooding over their plans,
-but never executing them. It is scarcely possible to conceive of a more
-unhappy man than one afflicted with this infirmity. It has been remarked
-that there are persons who lack decision to such a degree that they seem
-never to have made up their mind which leg to stand upon; who deliberate
-in an agony of choice when not a grain's weight depends upon the
-decision, or the question what road to walk upon, what bundle of hay to
-munch first; to be undetermined where the case is plain and the
-necessity so urgent; to be always intending to lead a new life, but
-never finding time to set about it. There is nothing more pitiable in
-the world than such an irresolute man thus oscillating between extremes,
-who would willingly join the two, but does not perceive that nothing can
-unite them.
-
-Indecision is a slatternly housewife, by whose fault the moth and rust
-are allowed to make such dull work of life. "A man without decision,"
-says John Foster, "can never be said to belong to himself, since if he
-dared to assert that he did the puny force of some cause about as
-powerful, you would have supposed, as a spider, may make a seizure of
-the unhappy boaster the very next minute, and contemptuously exhibit the
-futility of the determinations by which he was to have proved the
-independence of his understanding and will." He belongs to whatever can
-make capture of him; and one thing after another vindicates its right to
-him by arresting him while he is trying to proceed, as twigs and chips
-floating near the edge of a river are intercepted by every weed, and
-whirled in every little eddy. Having concluded on a design, he may
-pledge himself to accomplish it, if the hundred diversities of feeling
-which may come within the week will let him. His character precludes all
-foresight of his conduct. He may sit and wonder what form and direction
-his views and actions are destined to take to-morrow, as a farmer has
-often to acknowledge that next day's proceedings are at the disposal of
-its winds and clouds.
-
-A great deal of the unhappiness and much of the vice of the world is
-owing to weakness and indecision of purpose. The will, which is the
-central force of character, must be trained to habits of decision;
-otherwise it will neither be able to resist evil nor to follow good.
-Decision gives the power of standing firmly when to yield, however
-slightly, might be only the first step in a down-hill course to ruin.
-Calling upon others for help in forming a decision is worse than
-useless. A man must so train his habits as to rely upon his own powers,
-and to depend upon his own courage in moments of emergency. Many are the
-valiant purposes formed that end merely in words; deeds intended that
-are never done; designs projected that are never begun; and all for the
-want of a little courageous decision. Better far the silent tongue, but
-the eloquent deed; and the most decisive answer of all is _doing_. There
-is nothing more to be admired than a manly firmness and decision of
-character. We admire a person who knows his own mind and sticks to it,
-who sees at once what is to be done in given circumstances, and does it.
-
-There never was a time in the world's history that called more earnestly
-upon all persons to cultivate a firm, manly decision of character, to be
-able to say No to the seductive power of temptation. There is no more
-beautiful trait of character to be found than that of a determined will
-guided by right motives. To talk beautifully is one thing, but to act
-with promptitude when the time of action has fully come is as far
-superior to the former as the brilliant sunlight surpasses the
-reflection of the moon. To train the mind to act with decision is of no
-less consequence than of acting promptly when the decision is reached.
-Of all intellectual gifts bestowed upon man there is nothing more
-intoxicating than readiness—the power of calling all the resources of
-the mind into simultaneous action at a moment's notice. Nothing strikes
-the unready as so miraculous as this promptitude in others; nothing
-impresses him with so dull and envious a sense of contrast with himself.
-This want of decision is to be laid on the shelf, to creep where others
-fly, to fall into permanent discouragement. To possess decision is to
-have the mind's intellectual property put out at fifty or one hundred
-per cent; to be uncertain at the moment of trial is to be dimly
-conscious of faculties tied up somewhere in a napkin. Decision of mind,
-like vigor of body, is a gift of God. It can not be created by human
-effort; it can only be cultivated. But every mind has the germ of this
-quality, which can be strengthened by favorable circumstances and
-motives presented to the mind, and by method and order in the
-prosecution of duties or tasks.
-
-But with all that has been urged in favor of decision and dispatch, we
-would not be understood as advising undue haste. There are occasions
-when caution and delay are necessary, when to act without long and
-careful deliberation would be madness. But when the way is clear, when
-there is no doubt as to what ought to be done, then it is that decision
-demands that an instant choice be made between the two—not to hesitate
-too long as to which, but to decide promptly, and then move ahead. Even
-in cases where deliberation and caution are necessary, decision demands
-that the mind acts quickly. In a word, decision finds us engaged in a
-life-battle. If the victory is ours, success and fortune wait upon us;
-if we are overthrown, want and misery stare us in the face; it is well
-to make our movements only with caution, but when we see a chance we
-must at once improve it, or it is gone. Occasions also arise when we
-must rouse our forces on an instant's warning, and to make movements for
-which we have no time to calculate the chances. Then is seen the triumph
-of the decisive, ready man. To falter is to be lost; to move with
-dispatch is the only safety.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: SELF-CONFIDENCE.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Both poetry and philosophy are prodigal of eulogy over the mind which
-rescues itself, by its own energy, from a captivity to custom, which
-breaks the common bonds of empire and cuts a Simplon over mountains of
-difficulty for its own purposes, whether of good or of evil. We can not
-help admiring such a character. It is a positive relief to turn from the
-contemplation of those relying on some one else for a solution of the
-difficulties that surround them to those who are strong in their own
-self-reliance, who, when confronted with fresh trials and difficulties,
-only put on a more determined mien, and more resolutely apply their own
-powers to remove the obstacle so unexpectedly put in their way. There is
-no surer sign of an unmanly and cowardly spirit than a vague desire for
-help, a wish to depend, to lean upon somebody and enjoy the fruits of
-the industry of others.
-
-In the assurance of strength there is strength, and they are the
-weakest, however strong, who have no faith in themselves or their
-powers. Men often conquer difficulties because they think they can.
-Their confidence in themselves inspires confidence in others. The man
-who makes every thing that conduces to happiness to depend upon himself,
-and not upon other men, on whose good or evil actions his own doings are
-compelled to hinge, has adopted the very best plan for living happily.
-This is the man of moderation, the possessor of manly character and
-wisdom. By self-reliance is not meant self-conceit. The two are widely
-different. Self-reliance is cognizant of all the ills of earthly
-existence, and it rests on a rational consciousness of power to contend
-with them. It counts the cost of the conflict with real life, and calmly
-concludes that it is able to meet the foes which stand in frowning array
-on the world's great battle-field. Self-conceit, on the other hand, is a
-vainglorious assertion of power. It knows not the real difficulties it
-has to contend with, and is too supercilious to inquire into them. It
-rejects well-meant offers of counsel or assistance. It feels above
-taking advice. The unhappy possessor of such a trait of character is far
-from being a self-reliant man.
-
-It has been said God never intended that strong, independent beings
-should be reared by clinging to others, like the ivy to the oak, for
-support. The difficulties, hardships, and trials of life—the obstacles
-one encounters on the road to fortune—are positive blessings. They knit
-his muscles more firmly, and teach him self-reliance, just as by
-wrestling with an athlete who is superior to us we increase our own
-strength and learn the secret of his skill. All difficulties come to us,
-as Bunyan says of temptation, like the lion which met Sampson, the first
-time we encounter them they roar and gnash their teeth, but once subdued
-we find a nest of honey in them. Peril is the very element in which
-power is developed. Don't rely upon your friends, nor rely upon the name
-of your ancestor. Thousands have spent the prime of life in the vain
-hope of help from those whom they called friends, and many thousands
-have starved because they had a rich father.
-
-Rely upon the good name which is made by your own exertions, and know
-that better than the best friend you can have is unconquerable
-determination of spirit, united with decision of character. Seek such
-attainments as will enable you to confide in yourself, to rise equal to
-your emergencies. Strive to acquire an inward principle of self-support.
-Help yourself and heaven will help you, should be the motto of every man
-who would make himself useful in the world or carve his way to riches
-and honor. It is an old saying, "He who has lost confidence can lose
-nothing more." The man who dares not follow his own independent
-judgment, but runs perpetually to others for advice, becomes at last a
-moral weakling and an intellectual dwarf. Such a man has not self within
-him, and believes in no self, but goes as a suppliant to others and
-entreats of them, one after another, to lend him theirs. He is, in fact,
-a mere element of a human being, and is borne about the world an
-insignificant cipher, unless he desperately fastens to other floating
-and supplementary elements, with which he may form a species of
-incorporation resembling a man. Any young man who will thus part with
-freedom and the self-respect that grows out of self-reliance and
-self-support is unmanly, neither deserving of assistance nor capable of
-making good use of it.
-
-Hardship is the native soil of manhood and self-reliance. Opposition is
-what we want and must have to be good for any thing. Men seem neither to
-understand their riches nor their own strength. Of the former they
-believe greater things than they should; of the latter, much less.
-Self-reliance and self-denial will teach a man to drink of his own
-cistern, and eat bread from his own kitchen, and learn to labor truly to
-get his living, and carefully to expend the good things committed to his
-care. Every youth should be made to feel that if he would get through
-the world usefully and happily he must rely mainly upon himself and his
-own independent energies. Young men should never hear any language but
-this: "You have your own way to make, and it depends upon your exertion
-whether you starve or not. Outside help is your greatest curse. It
-handicaps efforts, stifles aspirations, shuts the door upon emulation,
-turns the key upon energy." The custom of making provisions to assist
-worthy young men in obtaining an education is often a positive evil to
-the recipient. The germ of self-reliant energy, which else would have
-done so much for his material good, is stifled in its growth by the
-mistaken kindness of benevolent beings. And no mental acquisitions can
-compensate any young man for loss of self-reliance.
-
-It is not the men who have been reared in affluence who have left the
-most enduring traces on the world. It is not in the sheltered garden or
-the hothouse, but on the rugged Alpine cliffs, where the storms beat
-most violently, that the toughest plants are reared. Men who are trained
-to self-reliance are ready to go out and contend in the sternest
-conflicts of life, while those who have always leaned for support on
-others around them are never prepared to breast the storms of adversity
-that arise. Self-reliance is more than a passive trust in one's own
-powers. It shows itself in an active manner; it demonstrates itself in
-works. It is not ashamed of its pretentions, but invites inspection and
-asks recognition. Because there is danger of invoicing yourself above
-your real value, it does not follow that you should always underrate
-your worth. Because to be conspicuous, honored, and known you should not
-retire upon the center of your own conscious resources, you need not
-necessarily be always at the circumference. An excess of modesty is
-well-nigh as bad as an excess of pride, for it is, in fact, an excess of
-pride in another form, though it is questionable if this be not more
-hurtful to the individual and less beneficial to society than gross and
-unblushing vanity.
-
-It is true, we all patronize humility in the abstract, and, when
-enshrined in another, we admire it. It is a pleasure to meet a man who
-does not pique our vanity, or thrust himself between us and the object
-of our pretensions. There is no one who, if questioned, would not be
-found in the depths of his heart secretly to prefer the modest man,
-proportionally despising the swaggerer "who goes unbidden to the head of
-the feast." But while such is our deliberate verdict when taken to task
-in the matter, it is not the one we practically give. The man who
-entertains a good, stout opinion of himself always contrives somehow to
-cheat us out of a corresponding one, and we are too apt to acquiesce in
-his assumption, even though they may strike us unpleasantly. Nor need
-this excite our surprise. The great mass of men have no time to examine
-the merits of others. They are busy about their own affairs, which claim
-all their attention. They can not go about hunting modest worth in every
-nook and corner. Those who would secure their good opinion must come
-forward with their claims, and at least show their own confidence by
-backing them with vigorous assertions.
-
-If, therefore, a man of fair talents arrays his pretensions before us,
-if he duns and pesters us for an admission of his merits, obtruding them
-upon us, we are forced at last to notice them, and, unless he fairly
-disgusts us by the extravagance of his claims, shocking all sense of
-decency, we are inclined to admit them, even in preference to superior
-merits, which their possessor by his own actions seem to underrate. It
-is too often cant by which indolent and irresolute men seek to lay their
-want of success at the door of the public. Well-matured and
-well-disciplined talent is always sure of a market, provided it exerts
-itself; but it must not cower at home and expect to be sought after.
-There is a good deal of cant, too, about the successes of forward and
-impudent men, while men of retiring worth are overlooked. But it usually
-happens that those forward men have that valuable quality of promptness
-and activity, without which worth is a mere inoperative quality.
-
-The conclusion of the whole matter is, that in this busy, bustling
-period of the world's history self-confidence is almost an essential
-trait of character in one who means to get along well and win his way to
-success and fortune. This may exist entirely independent of
-self-conceit, the two being by no means necessarily concomitant. He must
-remember that he can not expect to have people repose confidence in his
-ability unless he displays confidence in them himself. If poverty be his
-lot, and troubles and discouragements of all kinds press upon him, let
-him take heart and push resolutely ahead, cultivating a strong,
-self-reliant disposition. By so doing he will rise superior to
-misfortune. He will learn to rely on his own resources, to look within
-himself for the means wherewith to combat the ills that press upon him.
-By such a course of action he takes the road which most surely leads to
-success.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: PRACTICAL TALENTS.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-It is a common saying that the man of practical ability far surpasses
-the theorist. Just what is meant by practical ability is, perhaps, hard
-to explain. It is more easy to tell what it is not than what it is. It
-recognizes the fact that life is action; that mere thoughts and schemes
-will avail nothing unless subsequently wrought out in action. It is an
-indescribable quality which results from a union of worldly knowledge
-with shrewdness and tact. He that sets out on the journey of life with a
-profound knowledge of books, but with a shallow knowledge of men, with
-much of the sense of others, but with little of his own, will find
-himself completely at a loss on occasions of common and constant
-recurrence.
-
-Speculative ability is one thing, and practical ability is another; and
-the man who in his study or with his pen in hand shows himself capable
-of forming large views of life and policy, may in the outer world be
-found altogether unfitted for carrying them into practical effect.
-Speculative ability depends on vigorous thinking, practical ability in
-vigorous acting, and the two qualities are usually found combined in
-very unequal proportions. The speculative man is prone to indecision; he
-sees all sides of a question, and his action becomes suspended in nicely
-weighing the arguments for and against, which are often found nearly to
-balance each other; whereas the practical man overleaps logical
-preliminaries and arrives at certain definite convictions, and proceeds
-forthwith to carry his policy into action. The mere theorist rarely
-displays practical ability; and, conversely, the practical man rarely
-displays a high degree of speculative wisdom. If you try to carve a
-stone with a razor, the razor will lose its edge, and the stone remain
-uncut. A high education, unless it is practical as well as classical,
-often unfits a man for contest with his fellow-man. Intellectual
-culture, if carried beyond a certain point, is too often purchased at
-the expense of moral vigor. It gives edge and splendor to a man, but
-draws out all his temper.
-
-In all affairs of life, but more especially in those great enterprises
-which require the co-operation of others, a knowledge of men is
-indispensable. This knowledge implies not only quickness of penetration
-and sagacity, but many other superior elements of character; for it is
-important to perceive not merely in whom we can confide, but to maintain
-that influence over them which secures their good faith and defeats the
-unworthy purpose of a wavering and dishonest mind. The world always
-laughs at those failures which arise from weakness of judgment and
-defects of penetration. Practical wisdom is only to be learned in the
-school of experience. Precepts and instruction are useful so far as they
-go; but without the discipline of real life they remain of the nature of
-theories only. The hard facts of existence give that touch of truth to
-character which can never be imparted by reading or tuition, but only by
-contact with the broad instincts of common men and women.
-
-Intellectual training is to be prized, but practical knowledge is
-necessary to make it available. Experience gained from books, however
-valuable, is of the nature of learning; experience gained from outward
-life is wisdom; and an ounce of the latter is worth a pound of the
-former. Rich mental endowments, thorough culture, great genius,
-brilliant parts have often existed in company with very glaring
-deficiencies in what may be called good judgment; while there is a
-certain stability of judgment and soundness of understanding often
-displayed by those who have not an extensive education. The old sailor
-knows nothing of nautical astronomy. Azimuths, right ascensions, and the
-solution of spherical triangles have no charm and little meaning to him.
-But he can scan the seas and skies and warn of coming danger with a
-natural wisdom which all the keen intellect and ready mathematics of the
-young lieutenant do not afford. The man who has traveled much
-accumulates a store of useful information, and can give hints of
-practical wisdom which no deep study of geological lore or of
-antiquarian research could afford. The student of life rather than of
-books gains an understanding by experience for which no store of
-erudition can prove an adequate compensation. The true order of learning
-should be, first, what is necessary; second, what is useful; and third,
-what is ornamental. To reverse this arrangement is like beginning to
-build at the top of the edifice. Practical ability depends in a large
-measure on the employment of what is known as common sense, which is the
-average sensibility and intelligence of men undisturbed by individual
-peculiarities. Fine sense and exalted sense are not half as useful as
-common sense. There are forty men of wit for one man of sense, and he
-that will carry nothing but gold will be every day at a loss for readier
-change.
-
-The height of ability consists in a thorough knowledge of the real value
-of things and of the genius of the age we live in, and could we know by
-what strange circumstances a man's genius becomes prepared for practical
-success, we should discover that the most serviceable items in his
-education were never entered in the bills his father paid for. That
-knowledge of the world which inculcates strict vigilance in regard to
-our individual interests and representation, which recommends the
-mastery of things to be held in our own hands, or which enables us to
-live undamaged by the skillful maneuvers and crafty plots of plausible
-men on the one hand or uncontaminated by the depravities of unprincipled
-ones on the other, is of daily acquisition and equally accessible to
-all.
-
-The most learned of men do not always make the best of teachers; the
-lawyer who has achieved a classical education is not always the most
-successful. The men who have wielded power have not always been
-graduates. Brindley and Stephenson did not learn to read and write until
-they were twenty years old; yet the one gave England her railroads, and
-the other her canals. The great inventor is one who has walked forth
-upon the industrial world, not from universities, but from hovels; not
-as clad in silks and decked with honors, but as clad in fustian and
-grimed with soot and oil. It is not known where he who invented the plow
-was born, or where he died; yet he has effected more for the happiness
-of the world than the whole race of heroes and conquerors who drenched
-it in tears and blood, whose birth, parentage, and education have been
-handed down to us with a precision proportionate to the mischief they
-have done. Mankind owes more of its real happiness to this humble
-inventor than to some of the most acute minds in the realm of
-literature.
-
-Education, indeed, accomplishes wonders in fitting a man for the work of
-success, but we sometimes forget that it is of more consequence to have
-the mind well disciplined rather than richly stored,—strong rather than
-full. Every day we see men of high culture distanced in the race of life
-by the upstart who can not spell. The practical dunce outstrips the
-theorizing genius. Life teems with such illustrations. Men have ruled
-well who could not define a commonwealth; and they who did not
-understand the shape of the earth have commanded a greater portion of
-it. The want of practical talent in men of fine intellectual powers has
-often excited the wonder of the crowd. They are astonished that one who
-has grasped, perhaps, the mightiest themes, and shed a light on the path
-to be pursued by others, should be unable to manage his own affairs with
-dexterity. But this is not strange. Deep thinking and practical talents
-require habits of mind almost entirely dissimilar, and though they may,
-and often do, exist conjointly, and while it is the duty of all to
-strive to cultivate both, yet such is the constitution of the human mind
-that it is apt to go to extremes. And he who accustoms himself to deep
-prying into nature's secrets, to exploring the hidden mysteries of the
-past, is too apt to forget the practical details of every-day life, to
-pass them by with disgust, as altogether beneath his attention. This is
-an error, and none the less reprehensible on that account than is the
-conduct of those who become so engrossed with the practical affairs of
-their calling or profession as to forget that they have a higher nature,
-and sink the man in the pursuit of their ambitious dreams.
-
-A man who sees limitedly and clearly is both more sure of himself and is
-more direct in dealing with circumstances and with men than is a man who
-has a large horizon of thought, whose many-sided capacity embraces an
-immense extent of objects, just as the somnambulist treads with safety
-where the wide-awake man could not hope to follow. Practical men cut the
-knots which they can not untie, and, overleaping all preliminaries, come
-at once to a conclusion. Men of theoretical knowledge, on the other
-hand, are tempted to waste time in comparing and meditating when they
-should be up and doing. Practical knowledge will not always of itself
-raise a man to eminence, but for want of it many a man has fallen short
-of distinction. Without it the best runner, straining for the prize,
-finds himself suddenly tripped up and lying on his back in the midst of
-the race. Without it the subtlest theologian will live and die in an
-obscure country village, and the acutest legal mind fail of adorning the
-bench. The man who lacks it may be a great thinker or a great worker. He
-may be an acute reasoner and an eloquent speaker, and yet, in spite of
-all this, fail of success. There is a hitch, a stand-still, a mysterious
-want somewhere. Little, impalpable trifles weave themselves into a web
-which holds him back. The fact is, he is not sufficiently in accord with
-his surroundings. He has never seen the importance of adjusting his
-scale of weights and measures to the popular standard. In a word, he is
-not a man of the world, in a popular sense.
-
-While it may be very difficult to define this practical ability, which
-is so all-important, yet the path to be pursued by him who would advance
-therein is visible to all. It requires a shrewd and careful observance
-of men and things rather than of books. It requires that the judgment be
-strengthened by being called upon in apparently trivial affairs. The
-memory must be trained to recall principles rather than statements. All
-the faculties of the mind must be trained to act with decision and
-dispatch. Education must be regarded as a means and not as an end. By
-these means, while admitting that practical talents are, in their true
-sense, a gift of God, still we can cultivate and bring them to
-perfection, and by education and experience convert that which before
-lay dormant in the rough pebble into a dazzling diamond.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: EDUCATION.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-From time immemorial intellectual endowments have been crowned with bays
-of honor. Men have worshiped at the shrine of intellect with an almost
-Eastern idolatry. Men of more than an average endowment of intellect
-have been regarded as superior beings. The multitude have looked upon
-them with wonder. With reverent hands the world at large has crowned
-intellect with its richest honors. Its pathway has been strewn with
-flowers; its brow has worn the loftiest plume; it has held the mightiest
-scepter of power, and sat upon the proudest throne. Evidence mightier
-than the plaudits of admiring multitudes is every-where found in the
-universe proclaiming the worth and power of the human intellect. There
-can not be a grander theme to engross the attention of all classes than
-that subject which has to do with the training of the intellect. The
-subject of education is fraught with a deep interest to all who have a
-just appreciation of its merits. It should be of interest to all within
-the pale of civilization, inasmuch as the happiness of all classes is
-connected with the subject of education.
-
-Education is development. It is not simply instruction, facts, and rules
-communicated by the teacher, but it is discipline, a waking up, a
-development of latent powers, a growth of the mind. It finds the child's
-mind passive; it trains it to think independently; it awakens its powers
-to observe, to reflect, to combine. It aims to bring into harmonious
-action all the powers of the mind, not, as some suppose, a cultivation
-of a few to the neglect of all the rest. Education should have reference
-to the whole man—the body, the mind, and the heart. Its object, and,
-when rightly conducted, its effect, is to make him a complete creature
-of his kind. To his frame it would give vigor, activity, and beauty; to
-his heart virtue; to his senses correctness and acuteness. The educated
-man is not the gladiator, nor the scholar, nor the upright man alone,
-but a well balanced combination of the three. The well-developed tree is
-not one simply well rooted, nor with giant branches, nor resplendent
-with rich foliage, but all of these together. If you mark the perfect
-man you must not look for him in the gymnasium, the university, or the
-Church exclusively, but you look for the healthful mind in the healthful
-body, with a virtuous heart. The being in whom you find this union is
-the only one worthy to be called educated.
-
-Education, strictly speaking, covers the whole area of life. It is the
-word which means all that God asks of us, all we owe the world or
-ourselves. It expresses the sum total of human duty. Nor is it confined
-to the present period of life. For aught we know education may be
-continued in heaven. Reason may continue to widen its powers and deepen
-its sanctities there. The affections may grow in beauty and fervor
-through innumerable ages. Mind may expand and intensify through
-eternity. Education is a work of progress. It begins in life, but has no
-end. Death does not terminate it. We learn the elements of things below;
-above, we will study their essence. We progress only by efforts.
-Whatever expands the affection or enlarges the sphere of our sympathies,
-whatever makes us feel our relation to the universe, to the great and
-beneficial cause of all, must unquestionably refine our nature and
-elevate us in the scale of being.
-
-It requires extensive observation to enable us even partially to
-appreciate the wonderful extent to which all the faculties are developed
-by mental cultivation. The nervous system grows more vigorous and
-active, the touch is more sensitive, and there is greater mobility to
-the hand. Men are often like knives with many blades. They know how to
-open one and only one; the rest are buried in the handle, and from
-misuse become useless. Education is the knowledge of how to use the
-whole of one's self. He is educated who knows how to make a tool of
-every faculty, how to open it, how to keep it sharp, and how to apply it
-to all practical purposes. Education is of three parts,—from nature,
-from man, and from things. The development of our faculties and organs
-is the education of nature; that of man is the application we learn to
-make of this very developing; and that of things is the experience we
-acquire in regard to different objects by which we are affected. All
-that we have not at our birth, and all that we have acquired in the
-years of our maturity, shows the need and effect of education. The power
-of education is shown in that it hath power to give to children
-resources that will endure as long as life endures, habits that time
-will ameliorate but not destroy, in that it renders sickness tolerable,
-solitude pleasant, age venerable, life more dignified and useful, and
-death less terrible.
-
-Education may be right or wrong, good or bad. Reason may grow strong in
-error and revel in falsities. The heart may grow in vice, and the
-passions expand in misrule. It has been wisely ordained that light
-should have no color, water no taste, and air no odor; so knowledge
-should be equally pure and without admixture. If it comes to us through
-the medium of prejudice it will be discolored; through the channels of
-custom, it will be adulterated; through the Gothic walls of the college
-or of the cloister, it will smell of the lamp. It is not what a man
-eats, but what he digests that makes him strong; not what he gains, but
-what he saves that makes him rich; so it is not what he reads or hears,
-but what he remembers and applies that makes him learned. He who knows
-men and how to deal with them, whose mind by any means whatever has
-received that discipline which gives to its action power and facility,
-has been educated.
-
-We can not be too careful to have our education proceed in the right
-direction. It is almost as difficult to make a man unlearn his errors as
-to acquire his knowledge. Error is more hopeless than ignorance, for
-error is always the more busy. Ignorance is a blank sheet, on which we
-can write, but error is a scribbled one, from which we must first erase.
-Ignorance is content to stand still without advancing towards wisdom,
-but error, more presumptuous, proceeds in the contrary direction.
-Ignorance has no light to guide her, but error follows a false one. The
-consequences are that error, when she retraces her footsteps, has a long
-distance to go before she is in as good condition for the acquiring of
-truth as ignorance.
-
-A right conception of the value and power of wisdom is a great incentive
-in stimulating us to proceed in the work of educating ourselves. It is
-knowledge that has converted the world from a desert abode of savage men
-to the beautiful homes of civilization. Human knowledge is permitted to
-approximate, in some degree and on certain occasions, with that of the
-Deity—its pure and primary source. And this assimilation is never more
-conspicuous than when from evil it gathers its opposite good. What, at
-first sight, appears to be so insurmountable an obstacle to the
-intercourse of nations as the ocean? But knowledge has converted it into
-the best and most expeditious means by which they may supply their
-mutual wants and carry on their intimate communications. What so violent
-as steam, or so destructive as fire? What so uncertain as the winds, or
-so uncontrollable as the wave? Yet wisdom has rendered these
-unmanageable things instrumental and subsidiary to the necessities, the
-comforts, and even the elegancies of life. What so hard, so cold, so
-insensible as marble? Yet the sculptors can warm it into life and bid it
-breathe an eternity of love. What so variable as color, so swift as
-light, or so empty as shade? Yet the painter's pencil can give these
-fleeting fancies both a body and a soul; can confer upon them an
-imperishable vigor, a beauty which increases with age, and which will
-continue to captivate generations. In short, wisdom can draw expedients
-from obstacles, invention from difficulties, remedies from poisons. In
-her hands all things become beautiful by adaptation, subservient by
-their use, and salutary by their application.
-
-Since, then, intellectual attainments are so precious and wisdom so
-grand in its achievements, he who neglects to improve his mental
-faculties, or fails to train all his powers of mind and body, is not
-walking in those paths that, under God's guidance, conduce most surely
-to happiness and content. This can be done by all, since education is
-within the reach of all, even the most humble. The youth who believes it
-is impossible for him to get an education is deficient in courage and
-energy. Too many have imbibed the idea that to obtain a sufficient
-education to enable a man to appear advantageously upon the theater of
-public life his boyhood and youth must be spent within the walls of some
-classical seminary of learning, that he may commence his career under
-the banner of a collegiate diploma, and with it win the first round in
-the ladder of fame. That a refined, classical education is desirable all
-will admit; that it is indispensably necessary does not follow. He who
-has been incarcerated from his childhood to majority within the limited
-circumference of his school and boarding room, though he may have
-mastered all the classics, is destitute of that knowledge of men and
-things indispensably necessary to enable him to act with vigor and
-dispatch either in public or private life.
-
-Classical lore and polite literature are very different from that vast
-amount of practical intelligence, fit for every-day use, that one _must
-have_ to render his intercourse with society pleasing to himself or
-agreeable to others. Let boys and girls be taught first what is
-necessary to prepare them for the common duties of life; then all that
-can be gained from fields of classic lore or works of polite erudition
-is of the utmost value. In this enlightened age ignorance is a voluntary
-misfortune, for all who will may drink deeply at the fountain of
-knowledge. By the proper improvement of time the mechanic's apprentice
-may lay in a store of information that will enable him to take a stand
-by the side of those persons who have grown up in the full blaze of a
-collegiate education.
-
-Learn thoroughly what you learn, be it ever so little, and you may speak
-of it with confidence. A few well-defined facts and ideas are worth a
-whole library of uncertain knowledge. We are frequently placed in
-position where we can learn with scarcely an effort on our part, and yet
-we hang back because it takes so long to acquire a mastery of any thing.
-Let the end alone! Begin at the beginning, and though, after all, it
-prove but a mere smattering, you are informed on one point more, and
-your life will be happier for making the effort. By gaining an education
-you shall have your reward in the rich stores of knowledge you have thus
-collected, and which shall ever be at your command, more valuable than
-material treasures. While fleets may sink, storehouses consume, and
-riches fade, the intellectual stores you have thus gathered will be
-permanent and enduring, as unfailing as the constant flow of Niagara—a
-bank whose dividends are perpetual, whose wealth is undiminished,
-however frequent the drafts upon it. How wise, then, to secure, as far
-as possible, a complete and lasting education.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: MENTAL TRAINING.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-The mind has a certain vegetative power which can not be wholly idle. If
-it is not laid out and cultivated into a beautiful garden, it will shoot
-up in weeds and flowers of a wild growth. From this, then, is seen the
-necessity of careful mental cultivation—a training of all the faculties
-in the right direction. This should be the first great object in any
-system of education, public or private. The value of an education
-depends far less upon varied and extensive acquirements than upon the
-cultivation of just powers of thought and the general regulation of the
-faculties of the understanding. That it is not the amount of knowledge,
-but the capacity to apply it, which promises success and usefulness in
-life, is a truth which can not be too often inculcated by instructors
-and recollected by pupils. If youths are taught _how_ to think, they
-will soon learn _what_ to think. Exercise is not more necessary to a
-healthful state of the body than is the employment of the various
-faculties of the mind to mental efficiency. The practical sciences are
-as barren of useful products as the speculative where facts only are the
-objects of knowledge, and the understanding is not habituated to a
-continual process of examination and reflection.
-
-It is the trained and disciplined intellect which rules the world of
-literature, science, and art. It is knowledge put in action by trained
-mental faculties which is powerful. Knowledge merely gathered together,
-whether in books or in brains, is devoid of power, unless quickened into
-life by the thoughts and reflections of some practical worker. But when
-this is supplied knowledge becomes an engine of power. It is this which
-forms the philosopher's stone, the true alchemy, that converts every
-thing it touches into gold. It is the scepter that gives us our dominion
-over nature; the key that unlocks the storehouse of creation, and opens
-to us the treasures of the universe. It is this which forms the
-difference between savage and civilized nations, and marks the
-distinction between men as they appear in society. It is this which has
-raised men from the humblest walks of life to positions of influence and
-power.
-
-The lack of mental training and discipline explains, in a large measure,
-why we so often meet with men who are the possessors of vast stores of
-erudition, and yet make a failure of every thing they try. We shall at
-all times chance upon men of profound and recondite acquirements, but
-whose qualifications, from a lack of practical application on their
-owners' part, are as utterly useless to them as though they had them
-not. A person of this class may be compared to a fine chronometer which
-has no hands to its dial; both are constantly right without correcting
-any that are wrong, and may be carried around the world without
-assisting one individual either in making a discovery or taking an
-observation. Every faculty of the mind is worthy of cultivation; indeed,
-all must be cultivated, if we would round and perfect our mental powers
-as to secure therefrom the greatest good. Memory must be ready with her
-stores of useful knowledge, gathered from fields far and near. She must
-be trained to classify and arrange them, so as to hold them in her
-grasp. Observation must be quick to perceive the apparently trivial
-events which are constantly occurring, and diligent to ascertain the
-cause. The judgment must pronounce its decision without undue delay; the
-will move to execution in accordance with the fiat of an enlightened
-understanding.
-
-This work of mental training, apparently so vast, is really so pleasant
-and easy that it sweetens every day's life. There is no excuse for the
-youth who is content to grow up to mature life and its duties with a
-mind whose powers are untrained, and which has not received the
-advantages of a practical education. Some may think they are excused by
-poverty; but lack of means has not robbed them of a single intellectual
-power. On the contrary, it sharpens them all. Has poverty shut them out
-from nature, from truth, or from God? Wealth can not convert a dunce
-into a genius. Gold will not store a mind with wisdom; more likely it
-will fill it with folly. It may decorate the body, but it can not adorn
-the soul. No business is so urgent but that time may be spent in mental
-training. One can not well help thinking and studying; for the mind is
-ever active. What is needful is to direct it to proper objects and in
-proper channels, and it will cultivate itself. There is nothing to
-prevent but the will. Whoever forms a resolute determination to
-cultivate his mind will find nothing in his way sufficient to stop him.
-If he finds barriers they only strengthen him by overcoming them.
-Whoever lives to thirty years of age without cultivating his mind is
-guilty of a great waste of time. If during that period he does not form
-a habit of reading, of observation, and reflection, he will never form
-such a habit, but go through the world none the wiser for all the
-wonders that are spread around him. A small portion of that leisure time
-which by too many is given to dissipation and idleness, would enable any
-young man to acquire a very general knowledge of men and things. One can
-live a life-time and get no instruction; but as soon as he begins to
-look for wisdom it is given him. Even in the pursuits of practical,
-every-day life numberless instances are constantly arising to aid in
-mental training. There are few persons so engrossed by the cares and
-labors of their calling that they can not give thirty minutes a day to
-mental training; and even that time, wisely spent, will tell at the end
-of a year. The affections, it is well known, sometimes crowd years into
-moments; and the intellect has something of the same power. If you
-really prize mental cultivation, or are deeply anxious to do any good
-thing, you will _find_ time or _make_ time for it sooner or later,
-however, engrossed with other employments. A failure to accomplish it
-can only demonstrate the feebleness of your will, not that you lacked
-time for its execution.
-
-It is impossible to overestimate the importance of reading as a means of
-training the mental faculties. It is by this means that you gather food
-for thoughts, principles, and actions. If your books are wisely selected
-and properly studied, they will enlighten your minds, improve your
-hearts, and establish your character. To acquire useful information, to
-improve the mind in knowledge and the heart in goodness, to become
-qualified to perform with honor and usefulness the duties of life, and
-prepare for immortality beyond the grave, are the great objects which
-ought to be kept in view in reading.
-
-There are four classes of readers. The first is like the hour-glass,
-and, their reading being on the sand, it runs in and runs out, and
-leaves no vestige behind. A second is like a sponge, which imbibes every
-thing, and returns it in the same state, only a little dirtier. A third
-is like a jelly-bag, allowing all that is pure to pass away, retaining
-only the refuse and the dregs. The fourth is like the slaves in the
-diamond-mines of Golconda, who, casting away all that is worthless,
-obtain only pure gems.
-
-We should read with discrimination. The world is full of books, no small
-portion of which are either worthless or decidedly hurtful in their
-tendency. And as no man has time to read every thing, he ought to make a
-selection of the ablest and best writers on the subjects which he wishes
-to investigate, and dismiss wholly from his attention the entire crowd
-of unworthy and useless ones. Always read with your thoughts
-concentrated, and your mind entirely engaged on the subject you are
-pursuing. Any other course tends to form a habit of desultory, indolent
-thought, and incapacitate the mind from confining its attention to close
-and accurate investigation. One book read thoroughly and with careful
-reflection will do more to improve the mind and enrich the understanding
-than skimming over the surface of a whole library. The more one reads in
-a busy, superficial manner, the worse. It is like loading the stomach
-with a great quantity of food, which lies there undigested. It enfeebles
-the intellect, and sheds darkness and confusion over all the operations
-of the mind. The mind, like the body, is strengthened by exercise, and
-the severer the exercise the greater the increase of strength. One hour
-of thorough, close application to study does more to invigorate and
-improve the mind than a week spent in the ordinary exercise of its
-powers. We should read slowly, carefully, and with reflection. We
-sometimes rush over pages of valuable matter because at a glance they
-seem to be dull, and we hurry along to see how the story, if it be a
-story, is to end.
-
-At every action and enterprise ask yourself this question: What shall
-the consequences of this be to me? Am I not likely to repent of it?
-Whatever thou takest in hand, remember the end, and thou shalt never do
-amiss. Take time to deliberate and advise, but lose no time in executing
-your resolution. To perceive accurately and to think correctly is the
-aim of all mental training. Heart and conscience are more than the mere
-intellect. Yet we know not how much the clear, clean-cut thought, the
-intellectual vision, sharp and true, may aid even these. Undigested
-learning is as oppressive as undigested food; and, as with the dyspeptic
-patient, the appetite for food often grows with the inability to digest
-it, so in the unthinking patient an overweening desire to know often
-accompanies the inability to know to any purpose. To learn merely for
-the sake of learning is like eating merely for the taste of the food. To
-learn in order to become wise makes the mind active and powerful, like
-the body of one who is temperate and judicious in meat and drink.
-
-Thought is to the brain what gastric juice is to the stomach—a solvent
-to reduce whatever is received to a condition in which all that is
-wholesome and nutritive may be appropriated, and that alone. Learning is
-healthfully digested by the mind when it reflects upon what is learned,
-classifies and arranges facts and circumstances, considers the relations
-of one to another, and places what is taken into the mind at different
-times in relation to the same subjects under their appropriate heads, so
-that the various stores are not heterogeneously piled up, but laid away
-in order, and may be examined with ease when wanted. This is the
-perfection of mental training and discipline,—memory well trained,
-judgment quick to act, and attention sharp to observe. We invite and
-urge all to turn their attention to this subject as something worthy of
-those endowed with reasoning powers. It is not a wearying task, but one
-which repays for its undertaking by making much more rich in its joys
-and inspiring in its hopes all the after-life of the man or woman who
-went forth bravely to the work which heaven has decreed as the lot of
-all who would enjoy the greatest good of life.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: SELF-CULTURE.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Man is a wonderful union of mind and body, and to form a perfect being a
-high degree of cultivation is required for each component part. Those
-who cultivate the mental to the exclusion of the mere bodily, or at
-least carelessly pass by its claims, are no less in error than those who
-cultivate the bodily faculties to the exclusion of the mental. The aim
-of all attempts at self-cultivation should be the highest and most
-appropriate development of the entire being—physical, intellectual, and
-moral. It comprehends the health of the body, the expansion of the
-intellect, the purification of the heart. It guards the health, because
-a feeble body acts powerfully on the mind, and is a clog to its
-progress. It cherishes the intellect, because it is the glory of the
-human being. It trains the moral nature, because if that is weak and
-misdirected a blight falls upon the soul and a curse rests upon the
-body. As each faculty reacts upon all the others, true self-culture
-attends with a due proportion of care to each. It strives to retain one
-power whose action is too intense, and to stimulate another which is
-torpid, until they act in delightful harmony with each other, and the
-result is the healthful progress toward the highest point of attainable
-good.
-
-Self-culture includes a proper care of the health of the body. To be
-careless of your health is to be stunted in intellect and miserable in
-feelings. You might as well expect to enjoy life in a dilapidated and
-ruined habitation, which affords free admission to the freezing
-blast and the pitiless rain, as to be happy in a body ruined by
-self-indulgence. The body is the home of the soul. Can its mysterious
-tenant find rest and unmixed joy within its chambers if daily exposed to
-sharp and shivering shocks through its aching joints or quivering
-nerves? How many bright intellects have failed of making any impression
-upon the world simply because they neglected the most obvious of
-hygienic laws! If God has bestowed upon you the inestimable gift of good
-health and a good constitution, it is your duty, as a rational creature,
-to preserve it. To expect vigorous health and the enjoyment which it
-brings, and at the same time live in open defiance of the laws of
-health, is to expect what can not take place. Not only is good health
-thus of value and one of the most important ends of self-cultivation,
-but we would impress on all the fact that the body is just as important
-a factor as the mind in the work of success, that it is just as worthy
-to be cultivated, so as to grow in strength and beauty, and the
-development of all those faculties which go to make a physically perfect
-man or woman.
-
-It is a sad sight to see a brilliant mind that has dragged down a strong
-body, because it has been so imperious in its demands, leaving its
-companion to suffer for lack of attention to some of its plainest wants.
-It reminds one of a crazy building, tottering under its own weight, yet
-full of the most costly machinery, which can be run, if at all, only
-with the greatest caution, or the entire fabric will crumble to ruins.
-The lesson can not be too soon learned that, while the human body is
-most wonderfully complex in its organization, still such is the
-perfection of all nature's works that all that is demanded of us is
-compliance with simple rules, to enable us to enjoy health. That it is
-our duty as well as our privilege to so train and cultivate the body
-that it will answer readily all demands made upon it by an enlightened
-mind, and will perform all its appropriate functions in the great work
-of life.
-
-Self-culture also implies suitable efforts to expand and strengthen the
-intellect by reading, by reflection, and by writing down your thoughts.
-The strength and vigor given to the mind by self-culture is not
-materially different from that expressed by the term education in its
-broad and comprehensive meaning. Intellect being the crowning glory and
-chief attribute of man, there can be no nobler aim to set before one's
-self than that of expanding and quickening all of its powers. Rightly
-lived our every-day life and actions conduce to this result. Our
-education is by no means entirely the product of organized schools. Our
-hired teachers and printed books are not all that act on our powers to
-develop them. Life is one grand school, and its every circumstance a
-teacher. Society pours in its influence upon us like the thousand
-streams that flood the ocean.
-
-Scholastic men and women speak of book education; there is also a life
-education—that great, common arena where men and women do battle with
-the forces around them. Our duty is so to guide and control these
-influences as to be educated in the right direction. We should recognize
-the fact that we are educating all the time, and the great question for
-us to settle is, "What manner of education are we receiving?" Some are
-educated in vice, some in folly, some in selfishness, some in deception,
-some in goodness, some in truth. Every day gives us many lessons in
-life. Every thought leaves its impression on the mind. Every feeling
-weaves a garment for the spirit. Every passion plows a furrow in the
-soul. It is our duty as sentient, moral beings so to guide and direct
-these thoughts, feelings, and passions that they shall educate us in the
-right direction. We are lax in duty to ourselves to let the world
-educate us as it will, for we are running a great risk to yield
-ourselves up to the circumstances life has thrown about us, to plunge
-into the stream of popular custom and allow ourselves to drift with the
-current.
-
-But aside from the practical education of everyday life we are to
-remember, in our efforts after self-culture, that it is also obligatory
-upon us to seek the discipline afforded by books and study. In the
-pursuit of knowledge follow it wherever it is to be found; like fern, it
-is the product of all climates, and, like air, its circulation is not
-restricted to any particular class. Any and every legitimate means of
-acquiring information is to be pursued, and all the odds and bits of
-time pressed into use. Set a high price upon your leisure moments. They
-are sands of precious gold; properly expended they will procure for you
-a stock of great thoughts—thoughts that will fill, stir, invigorate,
-and expand the soul. As the magnificent river, rolling in the pride of
-its mighty waters, owes its greatness to the hidden springs of the
-mountain nook, so does the wide, sweeping influence of distinguished men
-date its origin from hours of privacy resolutely employed in efforts
-after self-development.
-
-We should esteem those moments best improved which are employed in
-developing our own thoughts, rather than in acquiring those of others,
-since in this kind of intellectual exercise our powers are best brought
-into action and disciplined for use. Knowledge acquired by labor becomes
-a possession—a property entirely our own. A greater vividness of
-impression is secured, and facts thus acquired become registered in the
-mind in a way that mere imparted information fails of securing. A habit
-of observation and reflection is well-nigh every thing. He who has spent
-his whole life in traveling may live and die a thorough novice in most
-of the important affairs of life, while, on the other hand, a man may be
-confined to a narrow sphere and be engrossed in the prosaic affairs of
-every-day life, and yet have very correct ideas of the manners and
-customs of other nations. He that studies only men will get the body of
-knowledge without the soul; he that studies only books, the soul without
-the body. He that to what he sees adds observation, and to what he
-reads, reflection, is in the right road to knowledge, provided that in
-scrutinizing the hearts of others he neglects not his own. Be not
-dismayed at doubts, for remember that doubt is the vestibule through
-which all must pass before they can enter into the temple of wisdom;
-therefore, when we are in doubt and puzzle out the truth by our own
-exertions, we have gained a something which will stay by us and serve us
-again. But if to avoid the trouble of a search we avail ourselves of the
-superior information of a friend, such knowledge will not remain with
-us; we have _borrowed_ it and not _bought_ it.
-
-But man possesses something more than a mere body and intellect; he is
-the possessor of moral faculties as well. A true self-culture will be
-none the less careful to have the actions of these refined and pure than
-it is to possess physical health on the one hand and mental vigor on the
-other. Indeed, since your happiness depends upon their healthful
-condition more than upon the state of your body and intellect, your
-first care should be devoted to giving careful attention to your moral
-nature. With disordered moral faculties you will be as a ship without a
-helm, dashed on bars and rocks at the will of winds and waves. It is the
-vice of the age to substitute learning for wisdom, to educate the head,
-and to forget that there is a more important education necessary for the
-heart. Let the heart be opened and a thousand virtues rush in. There is
-dew in one flower and not in another, because one opens its cup and
-takes it in, while the other closes itself and the drop runs off. God
-rains his goodness and mercy as widespread as the dew, and if we lack
-them it is because we know not how to open our hearts to receive them.
-No man can tell whether he is rich or poor by turning to his ledger. It
-is the heart that makes a man rich. He is rich or poor according to what
-he is, and not what he has. Cultivate your moral nature, then, as well
-as bodily strength and mental vigor. The heart is the center of vitality
-in the physical body; so the moral senses seem to give vitality to all
-the various faculties of the mind. If the moral nature becomes stunted
-in its development the mind is apt to become chaotic in its action. How
-often we meet with examples of this character in the common walks of
-life! Many lose their balance of mind and become wrecks from want of
-_heart culture_. Is the _head_ of more importance than the _heart_? It
-is true that wealth is the child of the one, but it is equally true that
-happiness is the offspring of the other.
-
-Such, then, is an outline of the great problem of self-culture. We can
-not escape its claims; from the time reason dawns until death closes the
-scene they are pressing upon you. Much of the happiness of life, both
-here and hereafter, depends on how you meet its demands. You can, if you
-but will it, grow apace in all that is manly or womanly in life; or, by
-neglecting the claims of your manifold nature, as utterly fail of so
-doing as the stunted shrub fails of being the stately tree with waving
-branches and luxuriant foliage.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: LITERATURE.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-The influence of literature upon a country is well-nigh incalculable.
-The Druid warriors were incited to deeds of desperate valor by the songs
-of their bards; and in modern times victories are achieved by the
-writers of books no less important than many won on tented fields. The
-literature of a nation molds the thoughts of a whole people, guides
-their actions, and impresses its indelible mark upon the lives and
-conduct of its citizens. Who can estimate the effect of Voltaire's
-writings on the French people? The results for which many philanthropists
-toiled in vain were achieved by the works of Dickens. The power of
-books and literature is no less marked in the individual than in the
-mass. To the weak, and to the strong in their times of weakness, books
-are inspiring friends and teachers. Against the feebleness of
-individual efforts they proclaim the victory of faith and patience,
-and against the uncertainties and discouragement of one day's work
-they set forth the richer and more complete life that results from
-perseverance in right actions. It sets the mind more and more in
-harmony with the noblest aims, and holds before it a crown of honor
-and power.
-
-There is a certain monotony in daily life, and there are those whose
-aims are high, but who lack the inherent strength to stand true to them
-amid adverse influences, and so gradually drop out of the ever-thinning
-ranks of those who would wrest from Fame her richest trophies. They are
-conquered by routine, and disheartened by the discipline and labor that
-guard the prizes of life. Even to the resolute, persevering ones there
-are hours of weakness and weariness. To all such literature comes with
-its helping hand in hours of discouragement. It revives hope in the
-minds of those almost discouraged, and brings the comforts of philosophy
-to the cast-down. Books are a guide to youth and an inspiration for age.
-They support us under solitude, and keep us from becoming a burden to
-ourselves. They lessen our cares, compose our passions, and lay our
-disappointments asleep. When weary of the living, we may, by their aid,
-repair to the dead, who have nothing of peevishness, pride, or design in
-their conversation.
-
-In books we live continually in the decisive moments of history, and in
-the deepest experience of individual lives. The flowers which we cull
-painfully and at long intervals in our personal history blossom in
-profusion here, and the air is full of fragrance which touches our own
-life only in its happier times. In our libraries we meet great minds on
-an equality, and feel at ease with them. We come to know them better,
-perhaps, than those who bear their names and sit at their tables. The
-reserve that makes so many fine natures difficult of access is here
-entirely lost. No carelessness of manner, no poverty of speech or
-unfortunate personal peculiarity, mars the intercourse of author and
-reader. It is a relation in which the exchange of thought is undisturbed
-by outward conditions. We lose our narrow selves in the broader life
-that is open to us. We forget the hindrance and limitation of our own
-work in the full comprehension of that stronger life that can not be
-bound nor confined, but grows in all soils, and climbs heavenward under
-every sky.
-
-Literature is the soul of action, the only sensible articulate voice of
-the accomplished facts of the past. The men of antiquity are dead; their
-cities are ruins; their temples are dust; their fleets and armies have
-disappeared; yet all these exist in magic preservation in the literature
-which they have bequeathed to us, and their manners and their deeds are
-as familiar to us as the events of yesterday. Papers and books are
-really the teachers, guides, and lawgivers of the world to-day. Their
-influence is very much like that of a companion to whom we are attached.
-Hence it is of more consequence to know what class to avoid than what to
-choose; for good books are as scarce as good companions, and in both
-instances all we can learn from bad ones is that so much time has been
-worse than thrown away.
-
-We should choose our books as we do our friends, for their sterling and
-intrinsic merit, not for the accidental circumstances in their favor.
-For, with books as with men, it seldom happens that their performances
-are fully equal to their pretensions, nor their capital to their credit.
-As we should always seek the companionship of the best class of people,
-so we should always seek the companionship of the best books. He that
-will have no books but such as are scarce evinces about as correct a
-taste in literature as he would do in friendship who should have no
-friends but those whom the rest of the world have discarded. Some books
-we should make our constant companions and associates; others we should
-receive only as occasional acquaintances and visitors. Some we should
-take with us wherever we go; others we should leave behind us forever.
-Some, of gilded outsides, are full of depravity, and we should shun them
-as we would the actual vices which they represent. Some books we should
-keep in our hands and lay on our hearts, while the best we could dispose
-of others would be to throw them in the fire.
-
-You may judge a man more truly by the books and papers that he reads
-than by the company which he keeps, for his associates are in a measure
-imposed upon him; but his reading is the result of choice; and the man
-who chooses a certain class of books and papers unconsciously becomes
-more colored in their views, more rooted in their opinions, and the mind
-becomes trained to their way of thinking. All the life and feeling of a
-young girl fascinated by some glowing love romance is colored and shaped
-by the page she reads. If it is false and weak and foolish, she is false
-and weak and foolish too; but if it is true and tender and inspiring,
-then something of its truth and tenderness and inspiration will grow
-into her soul, and will become a part of her very self. The boy who
-reads of deeds of manliness, of bravery and noble doing, feels the
-spirit of emulation grow within him, and the seed is planted which will
-bring forth fruit of heroic endeavor and exalted life.
-
-In literature our tastes will be discovered by what we give, our
-judgment by that which we withhold. That writer does the most who gives
-his readers the most knowledge and takes from them the least time, for
-that period of existence is alone deserving the name of life which is
-rationally employed. Those books are most profitable to read which make
-the readers think most. Diminutive books, like diminutive men and women,
-may be of greater value than they seem to be; but great tomes are
-greatly dreaded. It is a saying that "books file away the mind." Much
-reading is certainly not profitable without much meditation, and many
-vigorous and profound thinkers have read comparatively little, though it
-must be admitted most great minds have been very devout and ardent
-readers. There is scarcely any thing that is not to be found in books,
-but it does not follow that we shall find every thing in them unless we
-handle them with great care.
-
-A beautiful literature springs from the depths and fullness of
-intellectual and moral life, from an energy of thought and feeling. It
-deals with questions of life in a plain, practical manner. It holds up
-the past for your inspection. It brings to light the secrets of nature.
-It enables us to discover the infinity of things, the immensity of
-nature, the wonders of the heavens, the earth, and the seas. Works of
-fiction are the ornamental parts of literature and learning. They are
-agreeable embellishments of the edifice, but poor foundations for it to
-rest upon. The literature of the day is largely composed of newspapers
-and periodicals. No one can too highly appreciate the magic power of the
-press or too highly depreciate its abuse. Newspapers have become the
-great highway of that intelligence which exerts a controlling power over
-a nation, catering the every-day food of the mind. Show us an
-intelligent family of boys and girls, and we will show you a family
-where newspapers and periodicals are plenty. Nobody who has been without
-these private tutors can know their educating power for good or for
-evil. Think of the innumerable topics of discussion which they suggest
-at the table; the important public measures with which the children thus
-early become acquainted; of the great philanthropic questions to which,
-unconsciously perhaps, their attention is called, and the general spirit
-of intelligence which is evoked by these quiet visitors. This vast world
-moves along lines of thought and sentiment and principles, and the press
-gives to these wings to fly and tongues to speak.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: MENTAL POWER.]
-
- "My mind to me a kingdom is;
- Such perfect joy therein I find
- As far exceeds all earthly bliss.
- Though much I want that most would have,
- Yet still my mind forbids to crave."
-
- —SIR EDMUND DYER.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-The triumph of cultivated intellect over the forces of nature is indeed
-a wonderful subject for contemplation. The most deadly poisons are made
-to conduce to human health and welfare. Electricity does the writing and
-talking, and annihilates space. Steam and iron are made to do the work
-of nerves and muscles, and lay the four corners of the world under
-contribution for our benefit. In view of these and many similar facts,
-how full of meaning becomes the old saying, "Knowledge is power!"
-Reason, like the magnetic influence imparted to iron, may be said to
-give to matter properties and powers which it did not possess before;
-but, without extending its bulk, augmenting its weight, or altering its
-organization, it is visible only by its effects and perceptible only by
-its operations.
-
-Unlike those of the warriors, the triumphs of intellect derive all their
-luster, not from the evil they have produced, but from the good. Her
-successes and her conquests are the common property of the world, and
-succeeding ages will be the watchful guardians of the rich legacies she
-bequeathes. The trophies and titles of the conqueror are on the quick
-march to oblivion, and amid that desolation where they were planted will
-decay. As the mind must govern the hand, so in every society the man of
-intelligence must direct and govern the man of ignorance. There is no
-exception to this law. It is the natural sequence of the dominion of
-mind over matter—a dominion so strong that for a time it can make flesh
-and nerves impregnable, and string the sinews like steel, so that the
-weak become strong. Some men of a secluded and studious life have sent
-forth from their closet or cloister rays of intellectual light that have
-agitated courts and revolutionized kingdoms, as the moon, that far
-removed from the ocean, and shining upon it with a serene and sober
-light, is the chief cause of all those ebbings and flowings which
-incessantly disturb that world of waters.
-
-The triumph of mind is shown in various ways. It enables us to surmount
-difficulties with facility. Like imprisoned steam, the more it is
-pressed, the more it rises to resist the pressure. The more we are
-obliged to do, the more we are able to accomplish. Perhaps in no other
-respect is the power of mind more signally shown than when it opens to
-our view avenues of pleasure before unthought of. Happiness is the great
-aim of life. In one form or another we are all striving for it. There
-are no pleasures so pure as mental pleasures. We never tire of them. A
-lofty mind always thinks loftily. It easily creates vivid, agreeable,
-and natural fancies, places them in their best light, clothes them with
-all appropriate adornments, studies others' tastes, and clears away from
-its own thoughts all that is useless and disagreeable. Mental force or
-power is not the inheritance of birth, nor the result of a few years'
-spasmodic study; it is only acquired as the result of long and patient
-exertion. There is no age at which it can not be increased. There is
-absolutely no branch of literature which, when properly digested and
-stowed away in the mind, will not show its effect in after life by
-increased vigor in the whole mind. Those intellectually strong men and
-women who have left their influence on the world's history are almost
-without exception found to be those who have possessed broad and deep
-acquirements; who have permitted no opportunity for obtaining
-information to pass unimproved; who have been content for years to store
-away knowledge, confident that in the fullness of time they would reap
-the reward.
-
-If any one would be the possessor of mental power he must be willing to
-do his duty in obtaining it. There is a tendency to make the acquisition
-of knowledge, at the present day, as easy as possible. The end proposed
-is good, but the means employed are of doubtful utility. Instead of
-toiling painfully on foot up the rugged steeps of learning the student
-of to-day flies along a railway track, finding every cliff cut through
-and every valley bridged. In this world nothing of value is to be
-obtained without labor. So there are some who will question the value of
-that education which is not born of patient perseverance and hard work.
-As in the exercises of the gymnasium the value consists in the exertions
-required to perform them, so that knowledge and mental power acquired by
-arduous exertion is of the most lasting and real value. Let patient
-toilers find a lesson of encouragement in this. What you thus painfully
-acquire will prove of lasting benefit to you.
-
-Mental power is seen in its best form only when all of the mental
-faculties have been properly drilled and disciplined. The mind can not
-grow to its full stature, nor be rounded into just proportions, nor
-acquire that blended litheness, toughness, and elasticity which it
-needs, if fed on one aliment. There is no profession or calling which,
-if too exclusively followed, will not warp and contract the mind. Just
-as if, in the body, a person resolves to be a rower, and only a rower,
-the chances are that he will have, indeed, strong arms, but weak legs,
-and eyes blinded by the glare of water. Or, if he desires to become an
-athlete, he may be all muscles, with few brains. So, in the mind, if he
-exercises but one set of faculties and neglects the rest, he may become
-a subtle theologian or a sharp lawyer, a keen man of business, or a
-practical mechanic, and though the possessor of power it is not power in
-its highest and best form.
-
-But for those who are anxious to obtain mental power, and for that
-purpose devote the years of a life-time to patient study and reflection,
-the rewards it offers are full compensation for all the hours of weary,
-self-denying labor. Not only does it afford the best assurance of
-success in life's battles and point out to its possessor means of
-happiness denied to others, but it is so peculiarly the highest form of
-power to which men can aspire that it commands the homage of all, and
-reposes as a jewel in the crown of the true man or woman.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: CHOICE OF COMPANIONS.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-The chameleon changes its color to agree with that of surrounding
-objects. We all of us by nature possess this quality to such a degree
-that our character, habits, and principles take their form and color
-from those of our intimate associates. Association with persons wiser,
-better, and more experienced than ourselves is always more or less
-inspiring and invigorating. They enhance our knowledge of life. We
-correct our estimate by theirs, and become partners in their wisdom. We
-enlarge our field of observation through their eyes, profit by their
-experience, and learn not only by what they have enjoyed, but—which is
-still more instructive—from what they have suffered. If they are
-stronger than ourselves, we become participators in their strength.
-Hence companionship with the wise and energetic never fails to have a
-most valuable influence on the formation of character—increasing our
-resources, strengthening our resolves, elevating our aims, and enabling
-us to exercise greater dexterity and ability in our own affairs, as well
-as more effective helpfulness in those of others.
-
-Young men are in general but little aware how much their reputation is
-affected in the view of the public by the company they keep. The
-character of their associates is soon regarded as their own. If they
-seek the society of the worthy and the respectable, it elevates them in
-the public estimation, as it is an evidence that they respect
-themselves, and are desirous to secure the respect of others. On the
-contrary, intimacy with persons of bad character always sinks a young
-man in the eyes of the public. While he, in intercourse with such
-persons, thinks but little of the consequences, others are making their
-remarks. They learn what his taste is, what sort of company he prefers,
-and predict, on no doubtful ground, what will be the result to his own
-principles and character. It is they only who are elevated in mind,
-character, and position, who can lift us up; while the ignoble,
-degraded, and debased only drag us down. We may be deprived of the
-advantages of better and superior associations at some time or another,
-but, unless we seek for them, we shall not profit by them, nor be
-acknowledged to be worthy of them.
-
-No man of position can allow himself to associate, without prejudice,
-with the profane, the Sabbath-breaking, the drunken, and the licentious;
-for he lowers himself, without elevating them. The sweep is not made the
-less black by rubbing against the well-dressed and the clean, while they
-are inevitably defiled. Keep company with persons rather above than
-below yourself; for gold in the same pocket with silver loseth both of
-its weight and color. Nothing elevates us so much as the presence of a
-spirit similar, yet superior, to our own. What is companionship where
-nothing that improves the intellect is communicated, and where the
-larger heart contracts itself to the mold and dimensions of the smaller?
-In all society it is advisable to associate, if possible, with the
-highest; not that the highest are always the best, but because, if
-disgusted there, you can at any time descend; but if we begin at the
-lowest, to ascend is impossible. It should be the aim of the young man
-to seek the society of the wise, the intelligent, and the good. It is
-always safe to be found in the society of those who, with a good heart,
-combine intelligence and an ability to impart information. If you wish
-to be respected, if you desire happiness and not misery, associate only
-with the intelligent and good. Once habituate yourself to a virtuous
-course, once secure a love of good society, and no punishment would be
-greater than, by accident, to be obliged to associate, even for a short
-time, with the low and vulgar.
-
-He that sinks into familiarity with persons much below his own level
-will be constantly weighed down by his base connections, and, though he
-may easily sink lower, he will find it hard to rise again. Better be
-alone than in bad company. "Evil communications corrupt good manners."
-Ill qualities are catching as well as diseases, and the mind is at least
-as much, if not a great deal more, liable to infections than the body.
-Go with mean people and you think life is mean. Society is the
-atmosphere of souls, and we necessarily imbibe something which is either
-infectious or salubrious. The society of virtuous persons is enjoyed
-beyond their company, and vice carries a sting even into solitude. The
-society you keep is both the indicator and former of your character. In
-company, when the pores of the mind are all opened, there requires more
-guard than usual, because the mind is then passive. In vicious company
-you will feel your reverence for the dictates of conscience wear off.
-The name at which angels bow and devils tremble you will hear contemned
-and abused. The Bible will supply materials for unmeaning jests or
-impious buffoonery. The consequences will be a practical deviation into
-vice—the principle will become sapped and the fences of conscience
-broken down.
-
-It is not alone the low and dissipated, the vulgar and profane, from
-whose example and society you are in danger. These persons of reputation
-will despise and shun. But there are persons of apparently decent
-morals, of polished manners and interesting talents, but who, at the
-same time, are unprincipled and wicked, who make light of sacred things,
-scoff at religion, and deride the suggestions and scruples of a tender
-conscience as superstition,—these are the persons whose society and
-influence are most to be feared. Their breath is pollution; their
-embrace, death. Unhappily there are many of this description. They mark
-out their unwary victims: they gradually draw them into their toils;
-they strike the deadly fang, infuse the poison, and exult to see
-youthful virtue and parental hope wither and expire under their ruffian
-example. Many a young man has thus been led on by his elders in iniquity
-till he has been initiated into all the mysteries of debauchery and
-crime, and ended his days a poor, outcast wretch.
-
-Live with the culpable and you will be apt to die with the criminal. Bad
-company is like a nail driven into a post, which, after the first or
-second blow, may be drawn out with little difficulty, but, being driven
-in to the head, it can only be withdrawn by the destruction of the wood.
-Be you ever so pure-minded yourself you can not associate with bad
-companions without falling into bad odor. Evil company is like tobacco
-smoke—you can not be long in its presence without carrying away a taint
-of it. "Let no man deceive himself," says Petrarch, "by thinking that
-the contagions of the soul are less than those of the body. They are yet
-greater; they sink deeper and come on more unsuspectedly." From impure
-air we take diseases; from bad company, vice and imperfections. Avoid,
-as far as you can, the company of all vicious persons whatsoever, for no
-vice is alone, and all are infectious.
-
-Good company not only improves our manners, but also our minds, and
-intelligent associates will become a source of enjoyment as well as of
-edification. Good company is that which is composed of intelligent and
-well-bred persons, whose language is chaste and good, whose sentiments
-are pure and edifying, whose deportment is such as pure and
-well-regulated education and correct morals dictate, and whose conduct
-is directed and restrained by the pure precepts of religion. When we
-have the advantages of such company it should then be the object of our
-zeal to imitate their real excellencies, copy their politeness, their
-carriage, their address, and the easy, well-bred turn of their
-conversation; but we should remember that, let them shine ever so
-bright, their vices are so many blemishes upon their character which we
-should no more think of endeavoring to imitate than we should to make
-artificial warts upon our faces because some distinguished person
-happened to have one there by nature.
-
-Water will seek its level. So do the various elements of society. Tell
-us whom you prefer as companions and we can tell who you are like. Do
-you love the society of the vulgar? Then you are already debased in your
-sentiments. Do you seek to be with the profane? In your heart you are
-like them. Are jesters and buffoons your choice companions? He who loves
-to laugh at folly is himself a fool. Do you love and seek the society of
-the wise and good? Is this your habit? Had you rather take the lowest
-seat among these than the highest seat with others? Then you have
-already learned to be good. You may not make very rapid progress, but
-even a good beginning is not to be despised. Hold on your way, and seek
-to be the companion of those that fear God. So shall you be wise for
-yourself and wise for eternity.
-
- [Illustration: Engraved & Printed by Illman Brothers.
- FRIENDSHIP.]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: FRIENDS.]
-
- "There are a thousand nameless ties,
- Which only such as feel them know,
- Of kindred thoughts, deep sympathies,
- And untold fancy spells, which throw
- O'er ardent minds and faithful hearts
- A chain whose charmed links so blend
- That the bright circlet but imparts
- Its force in these fond words—'_My Friend!_'"
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Friendship is the sweetest and most satisfactory connection in life. It
-has notable effect upon all states and conditions. It relieves our
-cares, raises our hopes, and abates our fears. A friend who relates his
-successes talks himself into a new pleasure, and by opening his
-misfortunes leaves a part of them behind him. Friendship improves
-happiness and abates misery, by doubling our joys and dividing our
-griefs. Charity is friendship in common, and friendship is charity
-inclosed. It is a sweet attraction of the heart towards the merit we
-esteem or the perfection we admire, and produces a mutual inclination
-between two or more persons to promote each others' interests,
-knowledge, virtue, and happiness.
-
-The language of friendship is as varied as the wants and weaknesses of
-humanity. To the timid and cautious it speaks words of encouragement. To
-the weak it is ready to extend a helping hand. To the bold and
-venturesome it whispers words of caution. It is ready to sympathize with
-the sorrowing one, and to rejoice with those of good cheer. Friendship
-is not confined to any particular class of society or any particular
-geographical locality. No surveyed chart, no natural boundary line, no
-rugged mountain or steep declining vale puts a limit to its growth.
-Wherever it is watered with the dews of kindness and affection, there
-you may be sure to find it. Allied in closest companionship with its
-twin sister, Charity, it enters the abode of sorrow and wretchedness,
-and causes happiness and peace. Its influence dispels every poisoned
-thought of envy, and spreads abroad in the mind a contentment which all
-the powers of the mind could not otherwise bestow. True friendship will
-bloom only in the soil of a noble and self-sacrificing heart. There it
-enjoys perpetual Summer, diffusing a sweet atmosphere of love, peace,
-and joy to all around.
-
-No man can go very far with strength and courage, if he goes alone
-through the weary struggles of life. We are made to be happier and
-better by each other's notice and appreciation, and the hearts that are
-debarred from those influences invariably contract and harden. Here and
-there we find persons who, from pride or singularity of disposition,
-affect to be altogether independent of the notice or regard of their
-fellow-beings; but never yet was there constituted a human heart that
-did not at some time, in some tender and yearning hour, long for the
-sympathy of other hearts. Instead of striving to conceal this feeling,
-it should be regarded as one possessing true nobility. True friendship
-can only be molded by the experience of time. The attractive face, the
-winning tongue, or the strong need of some passer-by, is not the
-permanent test of the union of hearts. We want a more substantial proof
-than any of these. A thousand transitory friends meet us along the
-crowded thoroughfares of life; but when we come to try their durability
-in the sieve of experience, alas, how many fall through! There have been
-times in the life of every man when he has been willing to stake
-reputation, credit, _all_, on the true friendship of some companion; but
-he turns to find his idol clay, the gold but dross. Few persons are so
-fortunate as to secure in the course of life the happiness and
-advantages of one efficient and devoted friend. It is all that many aim
-at, seek, and ask to have, and is worth a whole caravan of those
-lukewarm and treacherous souls who, indeed, profess to be attached to
-us, but whose affection is so uncertain and unstable that we fear to put
-it to the test of trial lest we lose it forever.
-
-Concerning the one you call your friend, tell us, will he weep with you
-in your hours of distress? Will he faithfully reprove you to your face
-for actions for which others are ridiculing and censuring you behind
-your back? Will he dare to stand forth in your defense when detraction
-is secretly aiming its weapon at your reputation? Will he acknowledge
-you with the same cordiality and behave to you with the same friendly
-attention in the company of your superiors in rank and fortune as when
-the claims of pride do not interfere with those of friendship? If
-misfortune and loss should oblige you to retire into a walk of life in
-which you can not appear with the same liberality as formerly, will he
-still think himself happy in your society, and instead of withdrawing
-himself from an unprofitable connection, take pleasure in professing
-himself your friend, and cheerfully assist you to support the burden of
-your afflictions? When sickness shall call you to retire from the busy
-world, will he follow you to your gloomy retreat, listen with attention
-to your tale of suffering, and administer the balm of consolation to
-your fainting spirit? And, lastly, when death shall burst asunder every
-earthly tie, will he shed a tear upon your grave, and lodge the dear
-remembrance of your mutual friendship in his heart? If so, then grapple
-him to your heart with hooks of steel; and you shall know the privilege
-of having one true friend.
-
-Friendship is a vase which, when it is flawed by violence or accident,
-may as well be broken at once; it never can be trusted after. The more
-graceful and ornamental it was, the more clearly do we discern the
-hopelessness of restoring it to its former state. Coarse stones, if they
-are fractured, may be cemented again; precious ones never. It is a great
-thing to cover the blemishes and to excuse the faults of a friend; to
-draw a curtain before his stains; to bury his weakness in silence, but
-to proclaim his virtues upon the housetop. Prosperity is no just scale;
-adversity is the only true balance to weigh friends in. True friendship
-must withstand the shocks of adversity before it is entitled to the
-name, since friendships which are born in adversity are more firm and
-lasting than those formed in happiness, as iron is more strongly united
-the fiercer the flames. One has never the least difficulty in finding a
-devoted friend except when he needs one. Real friends are wont to visit
-us in prosperity only when invited, but in adversity they come of their
-own accord. A friend is not known in prosperity, but can not be hidden
-in adversity. If we lack the sagacity to discriminate wisely between our
-acquaintances and our friends, misfortune will readily do it for us.
-Prosperity gains friends, and adversity tries them. 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. False friendship, like
-the ivy, decays and ruins the walls it embraces; but true friendship
-gives new life and animation to the object it supports.
-
-The hardest trials of those who fall from affluence to poverty and
-obscurity is the discovery that the attachment of so many in whom they
-confided was a pretense, a mask to gain their own ends, or was a
-miserable shallowness. Sometimes, doubtless, it is with regret that
-these frivolous followers of the world desert those upon whom they have
-fawned; but they soon forget them. Flies leave the kitchen when the
-dishes are empty. The parasites that cluster about the favorites of
-fortune to gather his gifts and climb by his aid, linger with the
-sunshine, but scatter at the approach of a storm, as the leaves cling to
-a tree in Summer weather, but drop off at the breath of Winter. Like
-ravens settled down for a banquet and suddenly scared away by a noise,
-how quickly at the first sound of calamity the superficial friends are
-up and away. Cling to your friends after having chosen them with proper
-caution. If they reprove you, thank them; if they grieve you, forgive
-them; if circumstances have torn them from you, circumstances may change
-and make them yours again. Be very slow to give up an old and tried
-friend. A true friend is such a rare thing to have that you are blessed
-beyond the majority of men if you possess but one such. The first law of
-friendship is sincerity, and he who violates this law will soon find
-himself destitute of that which he sought.
-
-The death of a friendship is always a tragical affair. Sometimes it
-cools from day to day, warm confidence gradually giving place to cold
-civility, and these in turn swiftly becoming icy husks of neglect and
-repugnance. Sometimes its remembrances touch us with a pang, or we stand
-at its grave sobbing, wounded with a grief whose balsam never grew. The
-hardest draught in the cup of life is wrung from betrayed affection,
-when the guiding light of friendship is quenched in deception, and the
-gloom that surrounds our path grows palpable. Let one find cold repulse
-or mocking treachery where he expected the greeting of friendship, and
-it is not strange that he feels crushed with the discovery.
-
-Old friends! What a multitude of deep and varied emotions are called up
-from the soul by the utterance of these two words! What thronging
-memories of other days crowd the brain when they are spoken! Oh, there
-is magic in their sound, and the spell it evokes is both sad and
-pleasing. When reverie brings before us in quick succession the scenes
-of by-gone years, how do the features of olden friends, dim and shadowy
-as the grave in which many of them are laid, flit before us! How they
-carry us to other scenes and other places! The thoughts which fill the
-mind when thus musing on the past are always of a chastened kind. In the
-scenes of the past we behold a type of the future. The fate of our
-friends shadows forth our own, and we are indeed dull if we fail to
-arise from fancied communication with old friends wiser and better men
-and women.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: POWER OF CUSTOM.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-There are many who find themselves in the toils of an evil custom who
-would most willingly give money and time to be free from its control.
-Montaigne says, "Custom is a violent and treacherous school-mistress.
-She, by little and little, slyly and unperceivedly slips in the foot of
-her authority; but having by this gentle and humble beginning, with the
-benefit of time, fixed and established it, she then unmasks a furious
-and tyrannic countenance, against which we have no more the courage or
-the power to lift up our eyes." Custom is the law of one class of people
-and fashion of another; but the two parties often clash, for precedence
-is the legislator of the first and novelty of the second. Custom,
-therefore, looks to things that are past, and fashion to things that are
-present; but both are somewhat purblind as to things that are to come.
-Of the two, fashion imposes the heaviest burdens, for she cheats her
-votaries of their time, their fortune, and their comforts, and she
-repays them only with the celebrity of being ridiculed and despised—a
-very paradoxical mode of payment, yet always most thankfully received.
-
-It is surprising to what an extent our likes and dislikes are creatures
-of custom. Our modes of belief, thoughts, and opinions are molded and
-shaped by what has been the prevailing mode of thinking heretofore.
-Though we are, indeed, not so given to the worship of past institutions
-as some people, yet we all acknowledge the prevailing power of custom,
-of personal habits, and of fashions. We dare not stand alone in any
-matter of concern, but wish to be in company of those similarly minded.
-The law of opinion goes forth. We do not ask who promulgates it, but
-fall into the ranks of its followers and worshipers. We are whirled in
-the giddy ranks and blinded by the dazzling lights. Novelty is the show,
-conformity is the law—and life a trance, until at last we awake from it
-to find that we have been the victims of a fatal folly and a bewildering
-dream.
-
-Habit is man's best friend or worst enemy. It can exalt him to the
-highest pinnacle of virtue, honor, or happiness, or sink him to the
-lowest depths of vice, shame, and misery. If we look back upon the usual
-course of our feelings we shall find that we are more influenced by the
-frequent recurrence of objects than by their weight and importance, and
-that habit has more force in forming our character than our opinions.
-The mind naturally takes its tone and complexion from what it habitually
-contemplates. "Whatever may be the cause," says Lord Kames, "it is an
-established fact that we are much influenced by custom. It hath an
-effect upon our pleasures, upon our actions, and even upon our thoughts
-and sentiments." Habit makes no figure during the vivacity of youth, in
-middle age it gains ground, and in old age governs without control. In
-that period of life, generally speaking, we eat at a certain hour, take
-exercise at a certain time, all by the direction of habit; nay, a
-particular seat, table, and bed comes to be essential, and a habit in
-any of these can not be contradicted without uneasiness. Man, it has
-been said, is a bundle of habits, and habit is a second nature.
-Metastasio entertained so strong an opinion as to the power of
-repetition in act and thought that he said, "All is habit in mankind,
-even virtue itself."
-
-Beginning with single acts habit is formed slowly at first, and it is
-not till its spider's thread is woven in a thick cable that its
-existence is suspected. Then it is found that beginning in cobwebs it
-ends in chains. Gulliver was bound as fast by the Lilliputians with
-multiplied threads as if they had used ropes. "Like flakes of snow that
-fall unperceivedly upon the earth," says Jeremy Bentham, "the seemingly
-unimportant events of life succeed one another." As the snow gathers so
-are our habits formed; no single flake that is added to the pile
-produces a sensible change; no single action creates, however it may
-exhibit, a man's character. But as the tempest hurls the avalanche down
-the mountain and overwhelms the inhabitant and his habitation, so
-passion, acting upon the elements of mischief which pernicious habits
-have brought together by imperceptible accumulation, may overthrow the
-edifice of truth and virtue.
-
-The force of habit renders pleasant many things which at first were
-intensely disagreeable or even painful. Walking upon the quarter-deck of
-a vessel, though felt at first to be intolerably confined, becomes, by
-repetition, so agreeable to the sailor that, in his walks on shore, he
-often hems himself within the same bounds. Arctic explorers become so
-accustomed to the hardships incident to such a life that they do not
-enjoy the comforts of home when they return. So powerful is the effect
-of constant repetition of action that men whose habits are fixed may
-almost be said to have lost their free agency. Their actions become of
-the nature of fate, and they are so bound by the chains which they have
-woven for themselves that they do that which they have been accustomed
-to do even when they know it can yield neither pleasure nor profit.
-
-Those who are in the power of an evil habit must conquer it as they can,
-and conquered it must be, or neither wisdom nor happiness can be
-obtained; but those who are not yet subject to their influence may, by
-timely caution, preserve their freedom. They may effectually resolve to
-escape the tyrant whom they will vainly resolve to conquer. Be not slow
-in the breaking of a sinful custom; a quick, courageous resolution is
-better than a gradual deliberation; in such a combat he is the bravest
-soldier who lays about him without fear or wit. Wit pleads; fear
-disheartens. He who would kill hydra had better strike off one neck than
-five heads,—fell the tree and the branches are soon cut off. Vicious
-habits are so great a strain on human nature, said Cicero, and so odious
-in themselves that every person actuated by right reason would avoid
-them, though he were sure they would always be concealed both from God
-and man and had no future punishment entailed on them. Vicious habits,
-when opposed, offer the most vigorous resistance on the first attack; at
-each successive encounter this resistance grows weaker, until, finally,
-it ceases altogether, and the victory is achieved.
-
-Such being the power of habit all can plainly see the importance of
-forming habits of such a nature that they shall constantly tend to
-increase our happiness, and to render more sure and certain that success
-the attaining of which is the object of all our endeavors. We may form
-habits of honesty or knavery, frugality or extravagance, of patience or
-impatience, self-denial or self-indulgence. In short, there is not a
-virtue nor a vice, not an act of body nor of mind, to which we may not
-be chained by this despotic power. It has been truly said that even
-happiness may become habitual. One may acquire the habit of looking upon
-the sunny side of things, or of looking upon the gloomy side. He may
-accustom himself, by a happy alchemy, to transmute the darkest events
-into materials for hopes. Hume, the historian, said that the habit of
-looking at the bright side of things was better than an income of a
-thousand pounds a year.
-
-Habits which are to be commended are not to be formed in a day, nor by a
-few faint resolutions, not by accident, not by fits and starts—being
-one moment in a paroxysm of attention and the next falling into the
-sleep of indifference—are they to be obtained, but by steady,
-persistent efforts. Above all, it is necessary that they should be
-acquired in youth, for then do they cost the least effort. Like letters
-cut in the bark of a tree, they grow and widen with age. Once obtained
-they are a fortune of themselves, for their possessor has disposed
-thereby of the heavier end of the load of life; all the remaining he can
-carry easily and pleasantly. On the other hand, bad habits, once formed,
-will hang forever on the wheels of enterprise, and in the end will
-assert their supremacy, to the ruin and shame of their victim.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: PERSONAL INFLUENCE.]
-
- "I shot an arrow in the air;
- It fell on earth, I knew not where.
- * * * * *
- I breathed a song into the air;
- It fell on earth, I knew not where.
- * * * * *
- Long, long afterwards, in an oak,
- I found the arrow still unbroke,
- And the song, from beginning to end,
- I found again in the heart of a friend."
-
- —H. W. LONGFELLOW.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Influence is to a man what flavor is to fruit, or fragrance to the
-flower. It does not develop strength or determine character, but it is
-the measure of his interior richness and worth, and as the blossom can
-not tell what becomes of the odor which is wafted away from it by every
-wind, so no man knows the limit of that influence which constantly and
-imperceptibly escapes from his daily life, and goes out far beyond his
-conscious knowledge or remotest thought. Influence is a power we exert
-over others by our thoughts, words, and actions; by our lives, in short.
-It is a silent, a pervading, a magnetic, a most wonderful thing. It
-works in inexplicable ways. We neither see nor hear it, yet, consciously
-or unconsciously, we exert it.
-
-Your influence is not confined to yourself or to the scene of your
-immediate actions; it extends to others, and will reach to succeeding
-ages. Future generations will feel the influence of your conduct. We all
-of us at times lose sight of this principle, and apparently act on the
-assumption that what we do or think or say can affect no one but
-ourselves. But we are so connected with the immortal beings around us,
-and with those who are to come after us, that we can not avoid exerting
-a most important influence over their character and final condition; and
-thus, long after we shall be no more—nay, after the world itself shall
-be no more—the consequences of our conduct to thousands of our
-fellow-men will be nothing less than everlasting destruction or eternal
-life. What we do is transacted on a stage of which all in the universe
-are spectators. What we say is transmitted in echoes that will never
-cease. What we are is influencing and acting on the rest of mankind.
-Neutral we can not be. Living we act, and dead we speak; and the whole
-universe is the mighty company, forever looking and listening; and all
-nature the tablets, forever recording the words, the deeds, the
-thoughts, the passions of mankind.
-
-It is a high, solemn, almost awful thought for every individual man,
-that his earthly influence, which has a commencement, will never through
-all ages have an end! What is done, is done—has already blended itself
-with the boundless, ever-living, ever-working universe, and will work
-there for good or evil, openly or secretly, throughout all time. The
-life of every man is as the well-spring of a stream, whose small
-beginnings are, indeed, plain to all, but whose course and destination,
-as it winds through the expanse of infinite years, only the Omniscient
-can discern. God has written upon the flower that sweetens the air, upon
-the breeze that rocks the flower upon its stem, upon the rain-drop that
-swells the mighty river, upon the dew-drops that refresh the smallest
-sprig of moss that rears its head in the desert, upon the ocean that
-rocks every swimmer in its channel, upon every penciled shell that
-sleeps in the caverns of the deep, as well as upon the mighty sun which
-warms and cheers the millions of creatures that live in its light,—upon
-all he has written, "None of us liveth to himself."
-
-The babe that perished on the bosom of its mother, like a flower that
-bowed its head and drooped amid the death-frosts of time,—that babe,
-not only in its image, but in its influence, still lives and speaks in
-the chambers of the mother's heart. The friend with whom we took sweet
-counsel is removed visibly from the outward eye; but the lessons that he
-taught, the grand sentiments that he uttered, the deeds of generosity by
-which he was characterized, the moral lineaments and likeness of the
-man, still survive, and appear in the silence of eventide, and on the
-tablets of memory, and in the light of noon and dewy eve; and, though
-dead, he yet speaketh eloquently and in the midst of us. Every thing
-leaves a history and an influence. The pebble, as well as the planet,
-goes attended by its shadow. The rolling rock leaves its scratches on
-the mountains, the river its channel in the soil, the animal its bones
-in the stratum, the fern and leaf their modest epitaph in the coal. The
-falling drop marks its sculpture in the sand or the stone. Not a foot
-steps into the snow or along the ground but prints, in characters more
-or less lasting, a map of its march. Every act of man inscribes itself
-in the memories of its fellows, and in his own manners and face. The air
-is full of sounds, the sky of tokens; the ground is all memoranda and
-signatures, and every object covered over with hints which speak to the
-intelligent.
-
-The sun sets beyond the western hills, but the trail of light he leaves
-behind him guides the pilgrim to his distant home. The tree falls in the
-forest; but in the lapse of ages it is turned into coal, and our fires
-burn now the brighter because it grew and fell. The coral insect dies;
-but the reef it raised breaks the surge on the shores of great
-continents, or has formed an isle on the bosom of the ocean, to wave
-with harvests for the good of man. We live and we die, but the good or
-evil that we do lives after us, and is not "buried with our bones."
-
-The career of great men remains an enduring monument of human energy.
-The man dies and disappears; but the thoughts and acts survive and leave
-an indelible stamp on his race. And thus the spirit of his life is
-prolonged, and thus perpetuated, molding the thought and will, and
-thereby contributing to form the character of the future. It is the men
-who advance in the highest and best directions who are the true beacons
-of human progress. They are as lights set upon a hill, illuminating the
-moral atmosphere around them; and the light of their spirit continues to
-shine upon all succeeding generations. The golden words that good men
-have uttered, the examples they have set, live through all time; they
-pass into the thoughts and hearts of their successors, help them on the
-road of life, and often console them in the hour of death. They live a
-universal life, speak to us from their graves, and beckon us on in the
-paths which they trod. Their example is still with us, to guide, to
-influence, and to direct us. Nobility of character is a perpetual
-bequest, living from age to age, and constantly tending to reproduce its
-like.
-
-It is what man _was_ that lives and acts after him. What he said sounds
-along the years like voices amid the mountain gorges, and what he did is
-repeated after him in ever multiplying and never ceasing reverberations.
-Every man has left behind him influences for good or evil that will
-never exhaust themselves. The sphere in which he acts may be small or it
-may be great, it may be his fireside or it may be a kingdom, a village
-or a great nation, it may be a parish or broad Europe—but act he does,
-ceaselessly and forever. His friends, his family, his successors in
-office, his relatives are all receptive of an influence, a moral
-influence, which he has transmitted to mankind—either a blessing which
-will repeat itself in showers of benediction, or a curse which will
-multiply itself in ever-accumulating evil.
-
-We see not in life the end of human actions. Their influence never dies.
-In ever-widening circles it reaches beyond the grave. Death removes us
-from this to an eternal world. Every morning when we go forth we lay the
-molding hand on our destiny, and every evening when we have done, we
-have left a deathless impress on eternity. "We touch not a wire but that
-it vibrates to God."
-
-Since we all have a personal influence, and our words and actions leave
-a well-nigh indelible trace, it is our duty to make that influence as
-potential for good as possible. In order to do this you must show
-yourself a man among men. It is through the invisible lines which you
-are able to attach to the minds with which you are brought into
-association that you can influence society in the direction of the
-greatest good. You can not move men until you are one of them. They will
-not follow you until they have heard your voice, shaken your hand, and
-fully learned your principles and your sympathies. It makes no
-difference how much you know, nor how much you are capable of doing. You
-may pile accomplishments upon acquisitions mountain high; but if you
-fail to be a social man, demonstrating to society that your lot is with
-the rest, a little child with a song in its mouth and a kiss for all and
-a pair of innocent hands to lay upon the knees shall lead more hearts
-and change the directions of more lives than you.
-
-A just appreciation of the power of personal influence leads to a sense
-of duty resting upon all to see to it that their influence is exerted in
-inculcating a proper sense of right in the community in which they live;
-to be sure that their weight is constantly cast in the scale of right
-against wrong; that they be found furthering all matters of enlightened
-public concern. They should as far as possible walk through life as a
-band of music moves down the street, flinging out pleasures on every
-side through the air to all, far and near, that can listen. Some men
-fill the air with their presence and sweetness, as orchards in October
-days fill the air with the perfume of ripe fruits. Some women cling to
-their own homes like the honeysuckle over the door, yet, like it,
-sweeten all the region with the subtle fragrance of their goodness. Such
-men and women are trees of righteousness, which are ever dropping
-precious fruits around them. Their lives shine like starbeams, or charm
-the heart like songs sung upon a holy day.
-
-How great a beauty and blessing it is to hold the royal gifts of the
-soul, so that they shall be music to some and fragrance to others, and
-life to all! It would be a most worthy object of life to make the power
-which we have within us the breath of other men's joys; to scatter
-sunshine where only clouds and shadows reign; to fill the atmosphere
-where earth's weary toilers must stand with a brightness which they can
-not create for themselves, but long for, enjoy, and appreciate. There is
-an energy of moral suasion in a good man's life passing the highest
-efforts of the orator's genius. The seen but silent beauty of holiness
-speaks more eloquently of God and duty than the tongues of men and
-angels. Let parents remember this. The best inheritance a parent can
-bequeathe to a child is a virtuous example, a legacy of hallowed
-remembrance and associations. The beauty of holiness beaming through the
-life of a loved relative or friend is more effectual to strengthen such
-as do stand in virtue's ways, and raise up those that are bowed down,
-than precept or command, entreaty or warning.
-
-Shall our influence be for good or for evil? For good? Then let no act
-of ours be such as could lead a fellow mortal astray. It is a terrible
-thought that some careless word, uttered it may be in jest, may start
-some soul upon the downward road. Oh, it is terrible power that we
-have—the power of influence—and it clings to us. We can not shake it
-off. It is born with us, and it has grown with our growth and
-strengthened with our strength. It speaks, it walks, it moves; it is
-powerful in every look of our eye, in every word of our mouth, in every
-act of our lives. We can not live to ourselves. We must be either a
-light to illumine or a tempest to destroy. We must bear constantly in
-mind that there is one record we can not interline—our lives written on
-others' hearts. How gladly we would review and write a kind word there,
-a generous act here, erase a frown and put in a loving word, a bright
-smile, and a tender expression. Harshness would be erased, and
-gentleness written. But, alas! what is written is written. Clotho will
-not begin anew to spin the threads of life, and our actions go forth
-into the world freighted with their burden of good or evil influence.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: CHARACTER.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Character is one of the greatest motive powers in the world. In its
-noblest embodiments it exemplifies human nature in its highest forms,
-for it exhibits man at his best. It is the corner-stone of individual
-greatness—the Doric and splendid column of the majestic structure of a
-true and dignified man, who is at once a subject and a king. Character
-is to a man what the fly-wheel is to the engine. By the force of its
-momentum it carries him through times of temptation and trial; it
-steadies him in times of popular excitement and tumult, and exerts a
-guiding and controlling influence over his life.
-
-There are trying and perilous circumstances in life which show how
-valuable and important a good character is. It is a strong and sure
-staff of support when every thing else fails. In the crisis of
-temptation, in the battle of life, when the struggle comes either from
-within or without, it is our strength, heroism, virtue, and
-consistency—our character, in short—which defends and secures our
-happiness and honor. And if they fail us in the hour of need—in the
-season of danger—all may be irretrievably lost, and nothing left us
-except vain regrets and penitential tears.
-
-Character is power, character is influence, and he who has character,
-though he may have nothing else, has the means of being eminently
-useful, not only to his immediate friends, but to society, to the Church
-of God, and to the world. When a person has lost his character all is
-lost—all peace of mind, all complacency in himself, are fled forever.
-He despises himself; he is despised by his fellow-men. Within is shame
-and remorse; without, neglect and reproach. He is of necessity a
-miserable and useless man, and he is so even though he be clad in purple
-and fine linen, and fare sumptuously every day. It is better to be poor;
-it is better to be reduced to beggary; it is better to be cast into
-prison, or condemned to perpetual slavery than to be destitute of a good
-name, or endure the pains and evils of a conscious worthlessness of
-character. The value of character is the standard of human progress. The
-individual, the community, the nation, tell of their standing, their
-advancement, their worth, their true wealth and glory, in the eye of
-God, by their estimation of character. That man or nation that lightly
-esteems character is low, groveling, and barbarous.
-
-Wherever character is made a secondary object sensualism and crime
-prevail. He who would prostitute character to reputation is base. He who
-lives for any thing less than character is mean. He who enters upon any
-study, pursuit, amusement, pleasure, habit, or course of life, without
-considering its effect upon his character is not a trusty or an honest
-man. He whose modes of thought, states of feeling, every-day acts,
-common language, and whole outward life, are not directed by a wise
-reference to their influence upon his character is a man always to be
-watched. Just as a man prizes his character so is he.
-
-There is a difference between character and reputation. Character is
-what a man is; reputation is what he is thought to be. Character is
-within; reputation is without. Character is always real; reputation may
-be false. Character is substantial and enduring; reputation may be
-vapory and fleeting. Character is at home; reputation is abroad.
-Character is in a man's own soul; reputation is in the minds of others.
-Character is the solid food of life; reputation is the dessert.
-Character is what gives a man value in his own eyes; reputation is what
-he is valued at in the eyes of others. Character is his real worth;
-reputation is his market price. A man may have a good character and a
-bad reputation; or, a man may have a good reputation and a bad
-character, as we form our opinion of men from what they appear to be,
-and not from what they really are. Most men are more anxious about their
-reputation than they are about their character. This is not right. While
-every man should endeavor to maintain a good reputation, he should
-especially labor to possess a good character. Our true happiness depends
-not so much on what is thought of us by others as on what we really are
-in ourselves. Men of good character are generally men of good
-reputation, but this is not always the case, as the motives and actions
-of the best of men are sometimes misunderstood and misrepresented. But
-it is important, above every thing, else that we be right and do right,
-whether our motives and actions are properly understood and appreciated
-or not. Nothing can be so important to any man as the formation and
-possession of a good character.
-
-Character is of slow but steady growth, and the smallest child and the
-humblest and weakest individual may attain heights that now seem
-inaccessible by the constant and patient exercise of just as much moral
-power as, from time to time, they possess. The faithful discharge of
-daily duty, the simple integrity of purpose and power of life that all
-can attain with effort, contribute silently but surely to the building
-up of a moral character that knows no limit to its power, no bounds to
-its heroism. The influences which operate in the formation of character
-are numerous, and however trivial some of them may appear they are not
-to be despised. The most powerful forces in nature are those that
-operate silently and imperceptibly. This is equally true of those moral
-forces which exert the greatest influence on our minds and give
-complexion to our character. Among the most powerful are early
-impressions, examples, and habits. Early impressions, although they may
-appear to be but slight, are the most enduring, and exert a great
-influence on life. The tiniest bit of public opinion sown in the minds
-of children in private life afterwards issue forth to the world and
-become its public opinions, for nations are gathered out of nurseries.
-By repetition of acts the character becomes slowly but decidedly formed.
-The several acts may seem in themselves trivial, but so are the
-continuous acts of daily life.
-
-Our minds are given us, but our characters we make. The full measure of
-all the powers necessary to make a man are no more a character than a
-handful of seeds is an orchard of fruits. Plant the seeds, and tend them
-well, and they will make an orchard. Cultivate the powers, and harmonize
-them well, and they will make a noble character. The germ is not the
-tree, the acorn is not the oak; neither is the mind a character. God
-gives the mind; man makes the character. Mind is the garden; character
-is the fruit. Mind is the white page; character is the writing we put on
-it. Mind is the metallic plate; character is our engraving thereon. Mind
-is the shop, the counting-room; character is our profits on the trade.
-Large profits are made from quick sales and small percentage; so great
-characters are made by many little acts and efforts. A dollar is
-composed of a thousand mills; so is a character of a thousand thoughts
-and acts. The secret thought never expressed, the inward indulgence in
-imaginary wrong, the lie never told for want of courage, the
-licentiousness never indulged in for fear of public rebuke, the
-irreverence of the heart, are just as effectual in staining the heart as
-though the world knew all about them.
-
-A subtle thing is character, and a constant work is its formation.
-Whether it be good or bad, it has been long in its growth and is the
-aggregate of millions of little mental acts. A good character is a
-precious thing, above rubies, gold, crowns, or kingdoms, and the work of
-making it is the noblest labor on earth. A good character is in all
-cases the fruit of personal exertion. It is not an inheritance from
-parents; it is not created by external advantages; it is no necessary
-appendage of birth, wealth, talents, or station; but it is the result of
-one's own endeavors. All the variety of minute circumstances which go to
-form character are more or less under the control of the individual. Not
-a day passes without its discipline, whether for good or for evil. There
-is no act, however trivial, but has its train of consequences, as there
-is no hair, however small, but casts its shadow.
-
-Not only is character of importance to its possessor as the means of
-conferring upon him true dignity and worth, but it exerts an influence
-upon the lives of all within its pale, the importance of which can never
-be overestimated. It might better be called an effluence; for it is
-constantly radiating from a man, and then most of all when he is least
-conscious of its emanation. We are molding others wherever we are. Books
-are only useful when they are read; sermons are only influential when
-they are listened to; but character keeps itself at all times before
-men's attention, and its weight is felt by every one who comes within
-its sphere.
-
-Other agencies are intermittent, like the revolving light, which, after
-a time of brightness, goes out into a period of darkness; but character
-is continuous in its operations, and shines with the steady radiance of
-a star. A good character is therefore to be carefully maintained for the
-sake of others, if possible, more than ourselves. It is a coat of triple
-steel, giving security to the wearer, protection to the oppressed, and
-inspiring the oppressor with awe. Every man is bound to aim at the
-possession of a good character as one of the highest objects of his
-life. His very effort to secure it by worthy means will furnish him with
-a motive for exertion, and his idea of manhood, in proportion as it is
-elevated, will steady and animate his motives. The pursuit of it will
-prove no obstacle to the acquisition of wealth or fame; but, on the
-contrary, not only is the attainment of a good character an almost
-indispensable thing for him who would make his mark in the world, but
-such is the nature of character that the control over the acts and
-thoughts of an individual, which must be acquired before character can
-exhibit inherent strength, conduces, in a very great degree, to the very
-condition which produces success.
-
-Character is the grandest thing man can live for; it is to have worth of
-soul, wealth of heart, diamond-dust of mind. He who has this aim lives
-to be what he ought to be, and to do what duty requires. To him comes
-fame, delighted to crown him with her wreaths of honor. Sum it up as we
-will, character is the great desideratum of human life. This truth,
-sublime in its simplicity and powerful in its beauty, is the highest
-lesson of religion, the first that youth should learn, and the last that
-age should forget.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: PRUDENCE.]
-
- "Prudence, thou virtue of the mind, by which
- We do consult of all that's good or ill."
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Amongst the milder virtues which contribute to round out and perfect
-life is to be found Prudence. It is a mild and pleasing quality. It
-counsels moderation and guidance by wisdom. It is practical wisdom, and
-comes of the cultivated judgment. It has reference in all things to
-fitness, to propriety, judging wisely of the right thing to be done and
-the right way of doing it. It calculates the means, order, time, and
-method of doing. Prudence learns from experience quickened by knowledge.
-It seeks to keep the practical path rather than that which, indeed,
-promises brilliant results, but takes the traveler along dangerous
-precipices and through places where there is a risk of his losing all.
-
-The most brilliant attainments are rendered nugatory for want of
-prudence, as the giant deprived of his eyes is only the more exposed by
-reason of his enormous strength and stature. Prudence is the perfection
-of reason, and a guide to us in all the duties of life. It is invariably
-found in men of good sound sense, and is, indeed, their most shining
-quality, giving value as it does to all the rest, sets them to work in
-their proper time and places, and turns them to the advantage of the
-person who is possessed of them. Without it learning is pedantry and wit
-impertinence; virtue itself looks like weakness. The best parts only
-qualify a man to be more sprightly in errors and active to his own
-principles. Prudence is a quality incompatible with vice, and can never
-be effectually enlisted in its cause, and he who deliberately gives
-himself over to the power of vice and evil habits can never be said to
-be acting according to the dictates of the highest reason, wherein
-prudence is always distinguished.
-
-It is difficult to define wherein prudence doth consist, inasmuch as the
-rules of prudence in general, like the laws of the stone tablet, are for
-the most part prohibitive. "Thou shalt not," is their characteristic
-formula. It is easier to state what is forbidden under certain
-circumstances than what is required. It is shown in practical every-day
-life by thoughtful actions on the thousand petty questions which are
-constantly claiming attention. It is hesitating and slow to believe what
-is not sanctioned by past experience, and prefers not to run any very
-great risks in testing new plans for gaining the great object of life,
-preferring the sure to the doubtful, even though the latter may seem to
-have many advantages. It recognizes that there is a necessity for a
-certain amount of caution in all the transactions of business; hence the
-old saying, "Prudent men lock up their motives, letting familiars have a
-key to their hearts as to their garden." It weighs long and carefully
-the reasons for or against any proposed line of conduct, and calls upon
-the will to act only in accordance with the result of such reasoning.
-
-In nothing does prudence display itself more than in relation to the
-little affairs of life. There are those who in the confidence of
-superior capacities or attainments neglect the common maxims of life.
-But this is a fatal delusion, as nothing will supply the want of
-prudence in the ordinary vocations of business, no matter how superior
-the other qualities. Negligence and irregularity long continued will
-make knowledge useless, wit ridiculous, and genius contemptible. The
-merchant may, indeed, win thousands by speculations; but the only sure
-way of attaining to fortune, place, or honor is by obedience to
-well-known laws of business prudence, which discountenance speculation
-unbased on substantial facts.
-
-Such are the vicissitudes of human life that, whatever the calling may
-be, scarcely a day passes that does not call upon all to exercise this
-quality in some of the common every-day occurrences, as well as in the
-unexpected emergencies which fate is constantly presenting to us. The
-triumph of its long exercise is to be seen in those moments when to come
-at a wrong decision means disastrous defeat, the fatal overthrow of the
-hopes of a life-time. It by degrees forms for itself a standard of duty
-and propriety, accumulates rules and maxims of conduct, and materials
-for reflection and meditation.
-
-The tongue of prudence knows when to speak and when to be silent. It is
-not cowardly; it dares to say all that need be said, but it does not
-tell all that it knows. It is careful what it speaks, when it speaks,
-and to whom it speaks. When you have need of a needle you move your
-fingers delicately with a wise caution. Use the same prudence with the
-inevitable affairs of life; give attention, and keep yourself from undue
-precipitation, otherwise it will fare hardly with you.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: TEMPERANCE.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-There is beauty in temperance like that which is portrayed in virtue and
-in truth. It is a close ally of both, and, like them, has that
-all-pervading essence and quality which chastens the feelings,
-invigorates the mind, and displays the perfection of the soul in the
-very aspect. Like water from the rill, rain from the cloud, or light
-from the heavenly bodies, the thought issues pure from within,
-refreshing, unsullied, and radiant. There is no grossness, no dross, no
-corruption, for temperance, when effectually realized, is full of
-loveliness and joy, and virtue and purity are the lineaments in which it
-lives. Temperance is a virtue without pride, and fortune without envy;
-the best guardian of youth and support of old age; the preceptor of
-reason as well as of religion, and physician of the soul as well as the
-body; the tutelar goddess of health and universal medicine of life.
-
-Temperance keeps the senses clear and unembarrassed, and makes them
-seize the object with more keenness and satisfaction. It appears with
-life in the face and decorum in the person. It gives you the command of
-your head, secures you health, and preserves you in a condition for
-business. Temperance is a virtue which casts the truest luster upon the
-person it is lodged in, and has the most general influence upon all
-other particular virtues of any that the soul of man is capable of;
-indeed, so general is it that there is hardly any noble quality or
-endowment of the mind but must own temperance either for its parent or
-its nurse; it is the greatest strengthener and clearer of reason, and
-the best preparer of it for religion; it is the sister of prudence and
-the handmaid to devotion.
-
-Pleasure has been aptly compared to a sea. Intemperance is a maelstrom
-situated in the very center of this great sea. Not one path alone leads
-to this gulf of woe; not one only current, as too many have supposed,
-hurries down this dark abyss, but all around, on every side, the waters
-tend downward. There are a thousand currents leading in. Some, it is
-true, are more rapid than others. Some rush in quickly and bear down all
-who ride upon their waters to quick and certain ruin. Others glide more
-slowly, but none the less surely, to the same end. The streams of
-intemperance are legions. The allurements that lead downward are equally
-numerous. Every appetite, lust, passion, and feeling holds out various
-allurements to intemperate indulgence. There is not a power of the mind,
-affection of the heart, nor desire of the body that may not dispose to
-some form of intemperance which may injure the physical being or
-paralyze the energies of the mind. All forms of intemperance are evil
-and destroy some function of mind or body—some member or faculty, the
-disease of which spreads inharmony through the whole. The dangers from
-this source are imminent and fearful, and spread on every hand.
-
-Temperance conduces to health; indeed, it may be said that health can
-only be acquired or maintained by temperance. This is the law primary
-and essential which every youth should know, and know by heart. Bodily
-pains and aches tell of intemperance in some directions. Pain means
-penalty, and penalty means that its sufferer should reform. The most of
-our pains are occasioned by intemperance. This is the fruitful mother of
-nine-tenths of the diseases that flesh is heir to and the sins that the
-soul doth commit. We sin by excess of anger, lust, appetite, affection,
-love of gain, authority, or praise. Few, if any, are the sins that grow
-not out of intemperance in some form. Intemperance means excess. A thing
-is good as long as it is necessary. All beyond necessity, or what is
-necessary, is evil. Money is good; more than what is necessary to the
-ends of life is evil. Food is good; too much is evil. Light is good; too
-much will put out our eyes. Water is good; too much will destroy us.
-Heat is good; too much will burn us. The praise of men is good; too much
-will ruin us. The love of life is good; too much will make us miserable.
-Fear is good; too much hath torment. Prayer is good; too much cheats
-labor of its life and is evil. Sympathy is good; too much floods us with
-perpetual grief. Reason is good; too much pressed with labor it
-dethrones the mind and spreads ruin abroad. Any excess in the use or
-activity of a good thing is intemperance and, therefore, evil, and to be
-avoided.
-
-Temperance as a virtue dwells in the heart. It consists in a rigid
-subjection of every inward feeling and power to the rule of right
-reason. He who would be thoroughly temperate must master himself. His
-passions must be his subjects obeying his will. From the heart he must
-be temperate. He must remember that the intemperance slope is an almost
-imperceptible one, and that he may be gliding down it when he dreams of
-naught but safety. He must remember, too, that the field of temperance
-is a broad one, covering the whole area of life. It is not simply
-against one form of appetite, one species of indulgence that he is to
-guard, but against all. There are other species of intemperate
-indulgence, of which we are all more or less guilty, than indulgence in
-drink. Indeed, the indulgence of appetite carries away more victims from
-the earth than does drunkenness, and spreads a wider devastation and a
-more general blight.
-
-All species of intemperance grow of a want of self-control. To be a
-temperance man a man must master himself, must be a brave, noble
-conqueror of every enemy within his own bosom. It is no small matter. It
-is the masterpiece of human attainments. The laws of temperance can
-never be broken with impunity. The excess is committed to-day, but the
-effect is experienced to-morrow. The law of nature, invariable in its
-operation, is, that penalty shall follow excess. The punishment is mild
-at first, but afterwards more and more severe, until, when nature's
-warning voice has been unheeded and her punishments disregarded, the
-final penalty is death. If an admonitory sign-board were hung out for
-the benefit of the young, there should be inscribed upon it in prominent
-characters "_no excess_." It is to be remembered that the best
-principles, if pushed too far, degenerate into fatal vices. Generosity
-is nearly allied to extravagance; charity itself may lead to ruin; the
-sternness of justice is but one step removed from the severity of
-oppression.
-
-If one would make the most of life he must be temperate in all things.
-It is the application of reason to all the daily acts of life. It is the
-highest and best form of life that one can attain to. It leads not only
-to the greatest happiness, but also to honor and position. By abstaining
-from most things it is surprising how many things we enjoy. To establish
-thoroughly and widely the principles of temperance we must begin with
-the youth. They have a high aspiration to be good and true. They see a
-glory in the path of right. Freedom is a word of power in their ears.
-Virtue has many charms not only for their hearts, but for their
-imaginations. They have health, competency, and happiness. They are
-ambitious of every good. When the true principles of temperance are
-established in early life and made the controlling power through life,
-they insure health, freedom from pain, competency, respectability,
-honor, virtue, usefulness, and happiness—all for which true men have or
-hope in this life. Happy would it be if they were general and all youths
-would practice them. Then would religion assert her mild and gentle
-sway, peace plant her olive wreath in every nation, wisdom, divine and
-time-honored, shed every-where her glorious light. A race of men and
-women, full of rosy health, strong, active, symmetrical, beautiful as
-the artist's model: pure, virtuous, wise, affectionate, full of honor
-and lofty principles, would grow up into communities and nations, and
-make the earth bloom and rejoice in more than Eden gladness. A new
-heaven and a new earth would surround us with beauty and arch us over
-with glory, for the old would have passed away.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: FRUGALITY.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Frugality may be termed the daughter of Prudence, the sister of
-Temperance, and the parent of Liberty and Ease. It is synonymous with
-economy, and is a sound understanding brought into action. It is
-calculation realized; it is the doctrine of proportion educed to
-practice. It is foreseeing contingencies and providing against them. Its
-other and less reputable sisters are Avarice and Prodigality. She alone
-keeps the straight and safe path, while Avarice sneers at her as
-profuse, and Prodigality scorns at her as penurious. To the poor she is
-indispensable; to those of moderate means she is found the
-representative of wisdom. Joined to industry and sobriety, she is a
-better outfit to business than a dowry. She conducts her votaries to
-competence and honor, while Profuseness is a cruel and crafty demon,
-that gradually involves her followers in dependence and debt.
-
-Frugality shineth in her best light when joined to liberality. The first
-consists in leaving off superfluous expense; the last is bestowing them
-to the benefit of those that need. The first without the last begets
-covetousness; the last without the first begets prodigality. There is
-ever a golden mean between frugality and stinginess, or closeness. He
-that spareth in every thing is an inexcusable niggard; he that spareth
-in nothing is an inexcusable madman. The golden mean of frugality is to
-spare in what is least necessary, and to lay out more liberally in what
-is most required in our several circumstances. It is no man's duty to
-deny himself every amusement, every recreation, every comfort, that he
-may get rich. It is no man's duty to make an iceberg of himself, and to
-deny himself the enjoyment that results from his generous actions,
-merely that he may hoard wealth for his heirs to quarrel about. But
-there is an economy which is especially commendable in the man who
-struggles with poverty, and is every man's duty—an economy which is
-consistent with happiness, and which must be practiced if the poor man
-would secure independence.
-
-When one is blessed with good sense and fair opportunities, this spirit
-of economy is one of the most beneficial of all secular gifts, and takes
-high rank among the minor virtues. It is by this mysterious power that
-the loaf is multiplied, that using does not waste, that little becomes
-much, that scattered fragments grow to unity, and that out of nothing,
-or next to nothing, comes the miracle of something. Frugality is not
-merely saving, still less parsimony. It is foresight and combination. It
-is insight and arrangement. It is a subtle philosophy of things, by
-which new uses, new compositions, are discovered. It causes inert things
-to labor, useless things to serve our necessities, perishing things to
-renew their vigor, and all things to exert themselves for human comfort.
-
-As the acquisition of knowledge depends more upon what a man _remembers_
-than upon the quantity of his reading, so the acquisition of property
-depends more upon what is _saved_ than upon what is earned. The largest
-reservoir, though fed by abundant and living springs, will fail to
-supply their owners with water if secret leaking-places are permitted to
-drain off their contents. In like manner, though by his skill and energy
-a man may convert his business into a flowing Pactolus, ever depositing
-its golden sands in his coffers, yet, through the numerous wants of
-unfrugal habits, he may live embarrassed and die poor. Economy is the
-guardian of property, the good genius whose presence guides the
-footsteps of every prosperous and successful man.
-
-Either a man must be content with poverty all his life, or else be
-willing to deny himself some luxuries, and save to lay the base of
-independence in the future. But if a man defies the future, and spends
-all that he earns, whether it be much or little, let him look for lean
-and hungry want at some future time; for it will surely come, no matter
-what he thinks. To economize and be frugal is absolutely the only way to
-get a solid fortune; there is no other certain mode on earth. Those who
-shut their eyes and ears to these plain facts will be forever poor.
-Fortune does not give away her real and substantial goods. She sells
-them to the highest bidder, to the hardest, wisest worker for the boon.
-Men never make so fatal a mistake as when they think they are mere
-creatures of fate; it is the sheerest folly in the world. Every man may
-make or mar his life, whichever he may choose. Fortune is for those who,
-by diligence, honesty and frugality, place themselves in a position to
-grasp hold of fortune when it appears in view.
-
-Simple industry and thrift will go far towards making any person of
-ordinary working faculties comparatively independent in his means.
-Almost any working-man may be so, provided he will carefully husband his
-resources and watch the little outlets of useless expenditures. A penny
-is a very small matter, yet the comfort of thousands of families depends
-upon the proper saving and spending of pennies. If a man allows the
-little pennies—the results of his hard work—to slip out of his fingers
-he will find that his life is little raised above one of mere animal
-drudgery.
-
-One way in which true economy is shown consists in living within one's
-income. This is the grand element of success in acquiring property. To
-carry it out requires resolution, self-denial, self-reliance. But it
-must be done, or grinding poverty will accompany you through life. We
-urge upon all young men who are just starting in life to make it an
-invariable rule to lay aside a certain proportion of their income,
-whatever that income may be. Extravagant expenditures occasion a large
-part of the suffering of a great majority of people. And extravagance is
-wholly a relative term. What is not at all extravagant for one person
-may be very much so for another. Expenditures, no matter how small in
-themselves they may be, are always extravagant when they come fully up
-to the entire amount of a person's income.
-
-On every hand we see people living on credit, putting off pay-day to the
-last, making, in the end, some desperate effort—generally by
-borrowing—to scrape the money together, and then struggling on again
-with the canker of care eating at their hearts; but their exertions are
-vain; they land at last in the inevitable goal of bankruptcy. If they
-would only be content to make the push in the beginning, instead of the
-end, they would save themselves all this misery. The great secret of
-being solvent and well-to-do and comfortable is to get ahead of your
-expenses. Eat and drink this month what you earned last month, not what
-you are going to earn next month. It is unsafe to draw drafts on the
-future, for hope is deceitful, and your paper is liable to go to
-protest. When one is once weighed down with a load of debt he loses the
-sense of being free and independent. The man with his fine house, his
-glittering carriage, and his rich banquets, for which he is in debt, is
-a slave, a prisoner, dragging his chains behind him through all the
-grandeur of the false world through which he moves.
-
-In urging a course of strict economy we admit that it is hard,
-embarrassing, perplexing, onerous, but it is by no means impracticable.
-A cool survey of one's expenditures, compared with his income; a wise
-balancing of ends to be gained; a firm and calm determination to break
-with custom wherever it is opposed to good sense, and a patience that
-does not chafe at small and gradual results, will do much towards
-establishing the principle of economy and securing its benefits. Economy
-has, however, deeper roots than even this—in the desires. It is there,
-after all, that we control our expenditures. As a general rule we may be
-sure that we shall spend our money for what we most earnestly crave. If
-it be luxury and display then it will melt into costly viands and soft
-clothing, handsome dwellings and rich furniture. If, on the other hand,
-our desires are for higher enjoyments, or for benevolent purposes, our
-money will flow into these channels. Every one, then, who cherishes in
-himself, or excites in others, a desire more pure and noble than existed
-before, who draws the heart from the craving of sense to those of soul,
-from self to others, from what is low, sensual, and wrong to what is
-pure, elevating, and right, in so far establishes, on the firmest of all
-foundations, a wise economy.
-
-A true economy appears to induce the exertion of almost every laudable
-emotion; a strict regard to honesty; a laudable spirit of independence;
-a judicious prudence in providing for the wants, and a steady
-benevolence in preparing for the claims of the future. Such an economy
-can but appeal to the good sense of all who candidly ponder over life
-and its realities. To spend all that you acquire as soon as you gain it
-is to lead a butterfly existence. Were you always to be young and free
-from sickness and care, and life were to pass as one perpetual Summer,
-it would do no harm to so live; but care will come, sickness may strike
-you at any time, and, if you escape these, yet you know life has its
-Autumnal and Winter seasons as well as its Summer. And, alas! for the
-veteran who finds himself obliged to learn in his latter years the
-lessons of strict economy for the first time, having lived in utter
-defiance of them in the season of youth and strength.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: PATIENCE.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Patience is the ballast of the soul, that will keep it from rolling and
-tumbling in the greatest storms. All life is but one vast representation
-of the beauty and value of patience. Troubles and sorrows are in store
-for all. It is useless to try to escape them, and, indeed, it is well we
-can not, as they seem essential to the perfection and development of
-character into its highest and best form. But their disciplinary value
-arises from the great lesson of patience they are constantly
-inculcating.
-
-Either patience must be a quality graciously inherent in the heart of
-man, or it must be acquired as the lesson of years' experience, if he
-would enjoy the greatest good of life. Without it prosperity will be
-continually disturbed, and adversity will be clouded with double
-darkness. The loud complaint, the querulous temper and fretful spirit
-disgrace every character. We weaken thereby the sympathy of others, and
-estrange them from offices of kindness and comfort. But to maintain a
-steady and unbroken mind amidst all the shocks of adversity forms the
-highest honor of man. Afflictions supported by patience and surmounted
-by fortitude give the last finishing stroke to the heroic and virtuous
-character. Patience produces unity in the Church, loyalty in the state,
-harmony in families and societies. She comforts the poor and moderates
-the rich; she makes us humble in prosperity, cheerful in adversity,
-unmoved by calumny, and above reproach; she teaches us to forgive those
-who have injured us, and to be the first in asking the forgiveness of
-those whom we have injured; she delights the faithful, and invites the
-unbelieving; she adorns the woman and approves the man; she is beautiful
-in either sex and every age.
-
-Patience has been defined as the "courage of virtue;" the principle
-which enables us to lessen the pains of mind or body; an emotion that
-does not so much add to the number of our joys as it tends to diminish
-the number of our sufferings. If life is made to abound with pains and
-troubles by the errors and the crimes of man, it is no small advantage
-to have a faculty that enables us to soften these pains and ameliorate
-these troubles. He that has patience can have what he will. There is no
-road too long to the man who advances deliberately and without undue
-haste. There are no honors too distant for the man who prepares himself
-for them with patience. Nature herself abounds with examples of
-patience. Day follows the murkiest night, and when the time comes the
-latest fruits also ripen. Its most beneficent operations, and those
-which take place on a grand scale, are the results of patience. The
-great works of human power, achieved by the hand of genius, are but
-eloquent examples of what may be achieved by the exercise of this
-virtue. History and biography abound with examples of signal patience
-shown by great men under trying circumstances.
-
-In the pursuit of worldly success patience or a willingness to bide
-one's time is no less necessary as a factor than perseverance. Says De
-Maistre, "To know how to wait is the great secret of success." And of
-all the lessons that humanity teaches in this school of the world, the
-hardest is to wait. Not to wait with folded hands that claim life's
-prizes without previous effort, but having toiled and struggled and
-crowded the slow years with trial to see then no results, or, perhaps,
-disastrous results, and yet to stand firm, to preserve one's poise, and
-relax no effort,—this, it has been truly said, _is_ greatness, whether
-achieved by man or woman. The world can not be circumnavigated by one
-wind. The grandest results can not be achieved in a day. The fruits that
-are best worth plucking usually ripen the most slowly, and, therefore,
-every one who would gain a solid success must learn "to labor and to
-wait." What a world of meaning in those few words! And how many are
-possessed of the moral courage to live in that state? It is the tendency
-of the times to be in a hurry when there is any object to be
-accomplished. In the pursuit of riches it is only the exceptional
-persons who are content with slow gains, willing to acquire wealth by
-adding penny to penny, dollar to dollar; the mass of business men are
-too apt to despise such a tedious and laborious means of ascent, and
-they rush headlong into schemes for the sudden acquisition of wealth.
-Or, in the field of professional life, we are too prone to forget there
-is no royal road to great acquirements, and feel an unwillingness to lay
-broad and deep, by years of patient study and laborious research, the
-foundation whereon to build an enduring monument worthy of public credit
-and renown.
-
-The history of all who are honored in the world of literature, arts, or
-science is the history of patient study for years, and its final
-triumph. Elihu Burritt says: "All that I have accomplished, or expect or
-hope to accomplish, has been, and will be, by that patient, persevering
-process of accretion which builds the ant-heap, particle by particle,
-thought by thought, fact by fact." Labor still is, and ever will be, the
-inevitable price set upon every thing which is valuable. Hence, if we
-would acquire wisdom, we must diligently apply ourselves, and confront
-the same continuous application which our forefathers did. We must be
-satisfied to work energetically with a purpose, and wait the results
-with patience. All progress, of the best kind, is slow; but to him who
-works faithfully and in a right spirit, be sure that the reward will be
-vouchsafed in its own good time. Courage must have sunk in despair, and
-the world must have remained unimproved and unornamented if man had
-merely compared the effect of a single stroke of the chisel with the
-pyramid to be raised, or of a single impression of the spade with the
-mountain to be leveled. We must continuously apply ourselves to right
-pursuits, and we can not fail to advance steadily, though it may be
-unconsciously.
-
-In all evils which admit a remedy impatience should be avoided, because
-it wastes that time and attention in complaints that, if properly
-applied, might remove the cause. In cases that admit of no remedy it is
-worse than useless to give way to impatience, both because of the utter
-uselessness of so doing as well as that the time thus spent could be
-better employed in the furtherance of useful designs. Since, then, these
-two classes of ills comprise all to which human nature is subject, why
-not make a determined struggle against impatience in every form? It
-accomplishes nothing that is of value, divides our efforts, frustrates
-our plans, and generally succeeds in making our lives miserable not only
-to ourselves, but to all around us.
-
-How much of home happiness and comfort depends upon the exercise of
-patience! Not a day passes but calls for its exercise from those who
-sustain the nearest and dearest relations to each other. Let patience
-have her perfect work in the home circle. Let parents be patient with
-their children. They are weak, and you are strong. They stand at the
-eastern gate of life. Experience has not taught them to speak carefully
-and to go softly. What if their plays and amusements do grate upon your
-nerves. Bear with them patiently. Care and time will soon enough check
-their childish impulses. Be patient with your friends. They are neither
-omniscient nor omnipotent. They can not see your heart, and may
-misunderstand you. They do not know what is best for you, and may select
-what is worst. What if, also, they lack purity of purpose or tenacity of
-affection; do not you lack these graces? Patience is your refuge.
-Endure, and in enduring conquer them; and if not them, then at least
-yourself. Be patient with pains and cares. These things are killed by
-enduring them, but made strong to bite and sting by feeding them with
-your frets and fears. There is no pain or cure that can last long. None
-of them shall enter the city of God. A little while, and you shall leave
-behind you all your troubles, and forget, in your first hour of rest,
-that such things were on earth. Above all, be patient with your beloved.
-Love is the best thing on earth; but it is to be handled tenderly, and
-impatience is the nurse that kills it. Try to smooth life's weary way
-each for the other, and in the exercise of the heaven-born virtue of
-patience will you find the sweetest pleasure of life.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: SELF-CONTROL.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Self-control is the highest form of courage. It is the base of all the
-virtues. It is one of the most important but one of the most difficult
-things for a powerful mind to be its own master. If he reigns within
-himself, and rules passions, desires, and fears, he is more than a king.
-
-Too often self-control is made to mean only the control of angry
-passions, but that is simply one form of self-control; in another—a
-higher and more complete sense—it means the control over all the
-passions, appetites, and impulses. True wisdom ever seeks to restrain
-one from blindly following his own impulses and appetites, even those
-which are moral and intellectual, as well as those which are animal and
-sensual. In the supremacy of self-control consists one of the
-perfections of the ideal man. Not to be impulsive, not to be spurred
-hither and thither by each desire that in turn comes uppermost, but to
-be self-restrained, self-balanced, governed by the joined decision of
-the feelings in council assembled, before whom every action shall have
-been fully debated and calmly determined,—this is true strength and
-wisdom.
-
-Mankind are endowed by the Creator with qualities which raise them
-infinitely higher in the scale of importance than any other members of
-the animal world. They are given reason as a guide to follow rather than
-instinct. But if men give the reins to their impulses and passions, from
-that moment they surrender this high prerogative. They are carried along
-the current of their life and become the slaves of their strongest
-desires for the time being. To be morally free—to be more than an
-animal—man must be able to resist instinctive impulses. This can only
-be done by the exercise of self-control. Thus it is this power that
-constitutes the real distinction between a physical and a moral life,
-and that forms the primary basis of individual character. Nine-tenths of
-the vicious desires that degrade society, and the crimes that disgrace
-it, would shrink into insignificance before the advance of valiant
-self-discipline, self-respect, and self-control.
-
-It is necessary to one's personal happiness to exercise control over his
-words as well as his acts, for there are words that strike even harder
-than blows, and men may "speak daggers," even though they use none.
-Character exhibits itself in control of speech as much as in any thing
-else. The wise and forbearant man will restrain his desire to say a
-smart or severe thing at the expense of another's feelings, while the
-fool speaks out what he thinks, and will sacrifice his friend rather
-than his joke. There are men who are headlong in their language as in
-their actions because of the want of forbearance and self-restraining
-patience.
-
-Government is at the bottom of all progress. The state or nation that
-has the best government progresses most; so the individual who governs
-best himself makes the most rapid progress. The native energies of the
-human soul press it to activity; controlled they bear it forward in
-right paths; uncontrolled they urge it on to probable destruction. No
-man is free who has not the command over himself, but allows his
-appetites or his temper to control him; and to triumph over these is of
-all conquests the most glorious. He who is enslaved to his passions is
-worse governed than Athens was by her thirty tyrants. He who indulges
-his sense in any excesses renders himself obnoxious to his own reason,
-and to gratify the brute in him displeases the man and sets his two
-natures at variance. We ought not to sacrifice the sentiments of the
-soul to gratify the appetites of the body. Passions are excellent
-servants, and when properly trained and disciplined are capable of being
-applied to noble purposes; but when allowed to become masters they are
-dangerous in the extreme.
-
-To resist strong impulses, to subdue powerful passions, to silence the
-voice of vehement desire, is a strong and noble virtue. And the virtue
-rises in height, beauty, and grandeur in proportion to the strength of
-the impulses subdued. True virtue is not always visible to the gaze of
-the world. It is often still and calm. Composure is often the highest
-result of power, and there are seasons when to be still demands
-immeasurably higher strength than to act. Think you it demands no power
-to calm the stormy elements of passions, to throw off the load of
-dejection, to repress every repining thought when the dearest hopes are
-withered, and to turn the wounded spirit from dangerous reveries and
-wasting grief to the quiet discharge of ordinary duties? Is there no
-power put forth when a man, stripped of his property—of the fruits of a
-life's labor—quells discontent and gloomy forebodings, and serenely and
-patiently returns to the task which providence assigns? We doubt not
-that the all-seeing eye of God sometimes discerns the sublimest human
-energy under a form and countenance which, by their composure and
-tranquillity, indicate to the human spectator only passive virtues.
-Individuals who have attained such power are among the great ones of
-earth.
-
-Strength of character consists in two things,—power of will and power
-of self-restraint. It requires two things, therefore, for its
-existence,—strong feelings and strong command over them. Ofttimes we
-mistake strong feelings for strong character. He is not a strong man who
-bears all before him, at whose frown domestics tremble and the children
-of the household quake; on the contrary, he is a weak man. It is his
-passions that are strong; he, mastered by them, is weak. You must
-measure the strength of a man by the power of the feelings he subdues,
-not by the power of those that subdue him. Did we ever see a man receive
-a flagrant injury, and then reply calmly? That is a man spiritually
-strong. Or did we ever see a man in anguish stand as if carved out of
-solid rock mastering himself, or one bearing a hopeless daily trial
-remain silent and never tell the world what cankered his peace? That is
-strength. He who with strong passions remains chaste, he who, keenly
-sensitive, with manly powers of indignation in him, can be provoked and
-yet restrain himself and forgive, these are strong men, the spiritual
-heroes.
-
-A strong temper is not necessarily a bad temper. But the stronger the
-temper the greater is the need of self-discipline and self-control.
-Strong temper may only mean a strong and excitable will. Uncontrolled it
-displays itself in fitful outbreaks of passion; but controlled and held
-in subjection, like steam pent up within the mechanism of a steam
-engine, it becomes the source of energetic power and usefulness. Some of
-the greatest characters in history have been men of strong tempers, but
-with equal strength of determination to hold their motive power under
-strict regulation and control. He is usually a moral weakling who has no
-strong desires or strong temper to overcome; but he who with these fails
-to subdue them is speedily ruined by them.
-
-Man is born for dominion; but he must enter it by conquest, and continue
-to do battle for every inch of ground added to his sway. His infant
-exertions are put forth to establish the authority of his will over his
-physical powers. His after efforts are for the subjection of the will to
-the judgment. There are times which come to all of us when our will is
-not completely fashioned to our hands, and the restless passions of the
-mind hold us in sway—seasons when all of us do and say things which are
-unbecoming, unseemly, and which lower and debase us in the opinion of
-others and also of ourselves. Self-control, however, is a virtue which
-will become ours if we cultivate it properly, if we strive right
-manfully for its possession; fight a bitter warfare against
-irritability, nervousness, jealousy, and all unkindness of heart and
-soul. But it must be cultivated properly. One exercise of it will not
-win us the victory. We must, by constant repetition of efforts, obtain
-at last the victory which will bring us repose, which will enable us to
-say to the raging waves of passion, "Thus far canst thou come, and no
-farther." We must be faithful to ourselves, faithful in our watch and
-ward over tongue, eye, and hand. It is only by so doing that man comes
-to the full development of his powers. It is alike the duty and the
-birthright of man. Moderation in all things, and regulating the actions
-only by the judgment, are the most eminent parts of wisdom. "He that
-ruleth his own spirit is greater than he that taketh a city."
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: COURAGE.]
-
- "Prithee, peace!
- I dare do all that may become a man.
- Who dares do more is none."
-
- —SHAKSPEARE.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Courage consists not in hazarding without fear, but being resolutely
-minded in a just cause. The brave man is not he who feels no fear—for
-that were stupid and irrational—but he whose noble soul subdues its
-fears, and bravely dares the danger nature shrinks from. True courage is
-cool and calm. The bravest of men have the least of a brutal, bullying
-insolence, and in the very time of danger are found the most serene and
-free. Rage can make a coward forget himself and fight. But what is done
-in fury or anger can never be placed to the account of courage.
-
-Courage enlarges, cowardice diminishes resources. In desperate straits
-the fears of the timid aggravate the dangers that imperil the brave. For
-cowards the road of desertion should be kept open. They will carry over
-to the enemy nothing but their fears. The poltroon, like the scabbard,
-is an incumbrance when once the sword is drawn. It is the same in the
-every-day battles of life: to believe a business impossible is the way
-to make it so. How many feasible projects have miscarried through
-despondency, and been strangled in the birth by a cowardly imagination!
-It is better to meet danger than to wait for it. A ship on a lee shore
-stands out to sea in a storm to escape shipwreck. Impossibilities, like
-vicious dogs, fly before him who is not afraid of them. Should
-misfortune overtake, retrench, work harder; but never fly the track.
-Confront difficulties with unflinching perseverance. Should you then
-fail, you will be honored; but shrink and you will be despised. When you
-put your hands to a work, let the fact of your doing so constitute the
-evidence that you mean to prosecute it to the end. They that fear an
-overthrow are half conquered.
-
-No one can tell who the heroes are, and who the cowards, until some
-crisis comes to put us to the test. And no crisis puts us to the test
-that does not bring us up, alone and single-handed, to face danger. It
-is comparatively nothing to make a rush with the multitude, even into
-the jaws of destruction. Sheep will do that. Armies can be picked from
-the gutters, and marched up as food for powder. But when some crisis
-singles one out from the multitude, pointing at him the particular
-finger of fate, and telling him, "Stand or run," and he faces about with
-steady nerve, with nobody else to stand behind, we may be sure the hero
-stuff is in him. When such crises come, the true courage is just as
-likely to be found in people of shrinking nerves, or in weak and timid
-women, as in great, burly people. It is a moral, not a physical trait.
-Its seat is not in the temperament, but the will.
-
-Some people imagine that courage is confined to the field of battle.
-There could be no greater mistake. Even contentious men—unavoidably
-contentious—are not by any means limited to the battlefield. And there
-are other struggles with adverse circumstances—struggles, it may be,
-with habits or appetites or passions—all of which require as much
-courage and more perseverance than the brief encounter of battle. Enough
-to contend with, enough to overcome, lies in the pathway of every
-individual. It may be one kind of difficulties, or it may be another,
-but plenty of difficulties of some kind or other every one may be sure
-of finding through life. There is but one way of looking at fate,
-whatever that may be, whether blessings or afflictions,—to behave with
-dignity under both. We must not lose heart, or it will be the worse both
-for ourselves and for those whom we love. To struggle, and again and
-again to renew the conflict,—_this_ is life's inheritance. He who never
-falters, no matter how adverse may be the circumstances, always enjoys
-the consciousness of a perpetual spiritual triumph, of which nothing can
-deprive him.
-
-Though the occasions of high heroic daring seldom occur but in the
-history of the great, the less obtrusive opportunities for the exercise
-of private energy are continually offering themselves. With these
-domestic scenes as much abound as does the tented field. Pain may be as
-firmly endured in the lonely chamber as amid the din of arms.
-Difficulties can be manfully combated, misfortune bravely sustained,
-poverty nobly supported, disappointments courageously encountered. Thus
-courage diffuses a wide and succoring influence, and bestows energy
-apportioned to the trial. It takes from calamity its dejecting quality,
-and enables the soul to possess itself under every vicissitude. It
-rescues the unhappy from degradation and the feeble from contempt.
-
-The greater part of the courage that is needed in the world is not of an
-heroic kind. There needs the common courage to be honest, the courage to
-resist temptation, the courage to speak the truth, the courage to be
-what we really are, and not to pretend to be what we are not, the
-courage to live honestly within our own means, and not dishonestly upon
-the means of others. The courage that dares to display itself in silent
-effort and endeavor, that dares to endure all and suffer all for truth
-and duty, is more truly heroic than the achievements of physical valor,
-which are rewarded by honors and titles, or by laurels, sometimes
-steeped in blood. It is moral courage that characterizes the highest
-order of manhood and womanhood. Intellectual intrepidity is one of the
-vital conditions of independence and self-reliance of character. A man
-must have the courage to be himself, and not the shadow or the echo of
-another. He must exercise his own powers, think his own thoughts, and
-speak his own sentiments. He must elaborate his own opinions, and form
-his own convictions.
-
-It has been said that he who dares not form an opinion must be a coward;
-he who will not must be an idler; he who can not must be a fool. Every
-enlargement of the domain of knowledge which has made us better
-acquainted with the heavens, with the earth, and with ourselves, has
-been established by the energy, the devotion, the self-sacrifice, and
-the courage of the great spirits of past times, who, however much they
-may have been oppressed or reviled by their contemporaries, now rank
-among those whom the enlightened of the human race most delight to
-honor.
-
-The passive endurance of the man or woman who for conscience' sake is
-found ready to suffer and endure in solitude, without so much as the
-encouragement of even a single sympathizing voice, is an exhibition of
-courage of a far higher kind than that displayed in the roar of battle,
-where even the weakest feels encouraged and inspired by the enthusiasm
-of sympathy and the power of numbers. Time would fail to tell of the
-names of those who through faith in principles, and in the face of
-difficulties, dangers, and sufferings, have fought a good fight in the
-moral warfare of the world, and been content to lay down their lives
-rather than prove false to their conscientious convictions of the truth.
-
-The patriot who fights an always losing battle, the martyr who goes to
-death amid the triumphant shouts of his enemies, the discoverer, like
-Columbus, whose heart remains undaunted through years of failure, are
-examples of the moral sublime which excites a profounder interest in the
-hearts of men than even the most complete and conspicuous success. By
-the side of such instances as these, how small by comparison seem the
-greatest deeds of valor, inciting men to rush upon death and die amid
-the frenzied excitement of physical warfare.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: CHARITY.]
-
- "The primal duties shine aloft like stars,
- The charities that soothe and heal and bless
- Lie scattered at the feet of man like flowers."
-
- —WORDSWORTH.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Charity, like the dew from heaven, falls gently on the drooping flowers
-in the stillness of night. Its refreshing and revivifying effects are
-felt, seen, and admired. It flows from a good heart and looks beyond the
-skies for approval and reward. It never opens, but seeks to heal, the
-wounds inflicted by misfortune. It never harrows up, but strives to
-calm, the troubled mind.
-
-Charity is another name for disinterested love—the humane, sympathetic
-feeling—that which seeks the good of others; that which would pour out
-from the treasures of its munificence gifts of good things upon all. It
-is that feeling that gave the world a Howard, a Fenelon, a Fry. It is
-that feeling that leads on the reformer, which inspires the
-philanthropists, which blesses, and curses not. It is the good Samaritan
-of the heart. It is that which thinketh no evil, and is kind, which
-hopeth all things, believeth all things, endureth all things. It is the
-angel of mercy, which forgives seventy and seven times, and still is
-rich in the treasures of pardon. It visits the sick, soothes the pillow
-of the dying, drops a tear with the mourner, buries the dead, cares for
-the orphan. It delights to do offices of good to those cast down, to
-relieve the suffering of the oppressed and distressed, to proclaim the
-Gospel to the poor. Its words are more precious than rubies; its voice
-is sweeter than honey; its hand is softer than down; its step as gentle
-as love.
-
-Whoever would be respected and beloved; whoever would be useful and
-remembered with pleasure when life is over, must cherish this virtue.
-Whoever would be truly happy and feel the real charms of goodness must
-cultivate this affection. It becomes, if possible, more glorious when we
-consider the number and extent of its objects. It is as wide as the
-world of suffering, deep as the heart of sorrow, extensive as the wants
-of creation, and boundless as the kingdom of need. Its spirit is the
-messenger of peace, holding out to quarreling humanity the flag of
-truce. It is needed every-where, in all times and places, in all trades,
-professions, and callings of profit or honor which men can pursue. In
-the home life there is too often a lack of charity; it should be
-considered as a sacred duty to long and well cultivate it, to exercise
-it daily, and to guard well its growth. The peace and happiness of the
-world depends greatly upon it. Nothing gives a sweeter charm to youth
-than an active charity, a disposition kind to all. Who can properly
-estimate the powers and sweetness of an active charity?
-
-He who carries ever with him the spirit of boundless charity to man
-often does good when he knows not of it. An influence seems to go forth
-from him which soothes the distressed, encourages the drooping,
-stimulates afresh the love of virtue, and begets its own image and
-likeness in all beholders. Without the exercise of this grace it is
-impossible to make domestic and social life delightful. Deeds and words
-of conventional courtesy grown familiar are comparatively empty forms.
-The charitable soul carries with it a charmed atmosphere of peace and
-love, breathing which all who come within its benign influence unfold
-their noblest qualities, and develop their most amiable traits.
-Inharmonious influences are neutralized, the harsh discipline of life is
-changed to wholesome training, the crooked places are made straight, and
-the rough smooth.
-
-The uncharitable and censorious are generally found among the narrow and
-bigoted, and those who have never read the full page of their own heart
-or been subject to various and crucial tests. How can a man whose temper
-is phlegmatic judge justly of him whose blood is fiery, whose nature is
-tropical, and whose passions mount in an instant, and as quickly
-subside? How can one in the seclusion of private life accurately measure
-the force of the influence those are subjected to who live and act in
-the center of vast and powerful civil and social circles? The more you
-mix with men the less you will be disposed to quarrel, and the more
-charitable and liberal will you become. The fact that you do not
-understand another is quite as likely to be your fault as his. There are
-many chances in favor of the conclusion that when you feel a lack of
-charitable feeling it is through your own ignorance and illiberality.
-This will disappear as your knowledge of men grows more and more
-complete. Hence keep your heart open for every body, and be sure that
-you shall have your reward. You will find a jewel under the most uncouth
-exterior, and associated with comeliest manners and the oddest ways and
-the ugliest faces you will find rare virtues, fragrant little
-humanities, and inspiring heroisms.
-
-How glorious the thought of the universal triumph of charity! How grand
-and comprehensive the theme! The subject commands the profound attention
-of good men and of angels. Under the direful influence of its
-antagonistic principle man has trampled upon the rights of fellow-man,
-and waded through rivers of human blood, to satisfy his thirst for
-vengeance. Its footsteps have been marked with the blood of slaughtered
-millions. Its power has shivered kingdoms and destroyed empires. When
-men shall be brought into subjection to the law of charity the angel of
-peace will take up its abode with the children of men. Wars and rumors
-of wars will cease. Envy and revenge will hide their diminished heads.
-Falsehood and slander will be unknown. Sectarian walls will crumble to
-dust. Then this world will be transformed into a paradise, in which
-every thing that is beautiful and lovely shall grow and bloom.
-Disinterested and benevolent acts will abound. Sorrow and disappointments
-will flee away, and peace, sunshine, and joy will beautify and adorn
-life.
-
-Death always makes a beautiful appeal to charity. When we look upon the
-dead form, so composed and still, the kindness and the love that are in
-us all come forth. The grave covers every error, buries every defect,
-extinguishes every resentment. From its peaceful bosom spring none but
-fond regrets and tender recollections. Who can look upon the grave even
-of an enemy and not feel a compunctious throb that he should ever have
-warred with the poor handful of dust that lies moldering before him?
-
-Charity stowed away in the heart, like rose leaves in a drawer, sweetens
-all the daily acts of life. Little drops of rain brighten the meadow;
-acts of charity brighten the world. We can conceive of nothing more
-attractive than the heart when filled with the spirit of charity.
-Certainly nothing so embellishes human nature as the practice of this
-virtue; a sentiment so genial and so excellent ought to be emblazoned
-upon every thought and act of our life. This principle underlies the
-whole theory of Christianity, and in no other person do we find it more
-happily exemplified than in the life of our Savior who, while on earth,
-"went about doing good."
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: KINDNESS.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Kindness is the music of good-will to men, and on this harp the smallest
-fingers in the world may play heaven's sweetest tunes on earth. Kindness
-is one of the purest traits that find a place in the human heart. It
-gives us friends wherever we may chance to wander. Whether we dwell with
-the savage tribes of the forest or with civilized races, kindness is a
-language understood by the former as well as the latter. Its influence
-never ceases. Started once, it flows onward like the little mountain
-rivulet in a pure and increasing stream. To show kindness it is not
-necessary to give large sums of money, or to perform some wonderful deed
-that will immortalize your name. It is the tear dropped with the mother
-as she weeps over the bier of her departed child; it is the word of
-sympathy to the discouraged and the disheartened, the cup of cold water
-and the slice of bread to the hungry one.
-
-Kindness makes sunshine wherever it goes. It finds its way into the
-hidden chambers of the heart, and brings forth golden treasures, which
-harshness would have sealed up forever. Kindness makes the mother's
-lullaby sweeter than the song of the lark, and renders the care-worn
-brow of the father and man of business less severe in its expression. It
-is the water of Lethe to the laborer, who straightway forgets his
-weariness born of the burden and heat of the day. Kindness is the real
-law of life, the link that connects earth with heaven, the true
-philosopher's stone, for all it touches it turns into virgin gold; the
-true gold, wherewith we purchase contentment, peace, and love. Would you
-live in the remembrance of others after you shall have passed away?
-Write your name on the tablets of their hearts by acts of kindness,
-love, and mercy.
-
-Kindness is an emotion of which we ought never to feel ashamed.
-Graceful, especially in youth, is the tear of sympathy and the heart
-that melts at the tale of woe. We should not permit ease and indulgence
-to contract our affection, and wrap us up in a selfish enjoyment; but we
-should accustom ourselves to think of the distresses of human life and
-how to relieve them. Think of the solitary cottage, the dying parent,
-and the weeping child. A tender-hearted and compassionate disposition,
-which inclines men to pity and to feel the misfortunes of others as its
-own, is of all dispositions the most amiable, and though it may not
-receive much honor, is worthy of the highest. Kindness is the very
-principle of love, an emanation of the heart, which softens and
-gladdens, and should be inculcated and encouraged in all our intercourse
-with our fellow beings.
-
-Kindness does not consist in gifts, but in gentleness and generosity of
-spirit. Men may give their money, which comes from their purse, and
-withhold their kindness, which comes from the heart. The kindness which
-displays itself in giving money does not amount to much, and often does
-quite as much harm as good; but the kindness of true sympathy, of
-thoughtful help, is never without beneficent results. The good temper
-that displays itself in kindness must not be confounded with passive
-goodness. It is not by any means indifferent, but largely sympathetic.
-It does not characterize the lowest, but the highest classes of society.
-
-True kindness cherishes and actively promotes all reasonable
-instrumentalities for doing practical good in its own time, and, looking
-into futurity, sees the same spirit working on for the eventual
-elevation and happiness of the race. It is the kindly disposed men who
-are the active men of the world, while the selfish and the skeptical,
-who have no love but for themselves, are its idlers. How easy it is for
-one benevolent being to diffuse pleasure around him, and how truly is
-one fond heart a fountain of gladness, making every thing in its
-vicinity to freshen into smiles. Its effect on stern natures is like the
-Spring rain, which melts the icy covering of the earth, and causes it to
-open to the beams of heaven.
-
-In the intercourse of social life it is by little acts of watchful
-kindness recurring daily and hourly—and opportunities of doing kindness
-if sought for are constantly starting up—it is by words, by tones, by
-gestures, by looks that affection is won and preserved. He who neglects
-these trifles, yet boasts that, whenever a great sacrifice is called
-for, he shall be ready to make it, will rarely be loved. The likelihood
-is he will not make it, and if he does, it will be much rather for his
-own sake than for his neighbor's. Life is made up, not of great
-sacrifices or duties, but of little things, in which smiles and kindness
-and small obligations, given habitually, are what win and preserve the
-heart and secure comfort. The little unremembered acts of kindness and
-of love are the best portion of a good man's life. Those little nameless
-acts which manifest themselves by tender and affectionate looks and
-little kind acts of attention do much to increase the happiness of life.
-
-Little kindnesses are great ones. They drive away sadness, and cheer up
-the soul beyond all common appreciation. They are centers of influence
-over others, which may accomplish much good. When such kindnesses are
-administered in times of need, they are like "apples of gold in pictures
-of silver," and will be long remembered. A word of kindness in a
-desperate strait is as welcome as the smile of an angel, and a helpful
-hand-grasp is worth a hundred-fold its cost, for it may have rescued for
-all future the most kingly thing on earth—_the manhood of a man_.
-
-It should not discourage us if our kindness is unacknowledged; it has
-its influence still. Good and worthy conduct may meet with an unworthy
-or ungrateful return; but the absence of gratitude on the part of the
-receiver can not destroy the self-approbation which recompenses the
-giver. The seeds of courtesy and kindness may be scattered around with
-so little trouble and expense that it seems strange that more do not
-endeavor to spread them abroad. Could they but know the inward peace
-which requites the giver for a kindly act, even though coldly received
-by the one to be benefited, they would not hesitate to let the kindly
-feelings, latent in us all, have free expression. Kindly efforts are not
-lost. Some of them will inevitably fall on good ground, and grow up into
-benevolence in the minds of others, and all of them will bear fruit of
-happiness in the bosom whence they spring. It is better never to receive
-a kindness than not to bestow one. Not to return a benefit is the
-greater sin, but not to confer it is the earlier.
-
-The noblest revenge we can take upon our enemies is to do them a
-kindness. To return malice for malice and injury for injury will afford
-but a temporary gratification to our evil passions, and our enemies will
-only be rendered more and more bitter against us. But to take the first
-opportunity of showing how superior we are to them by doing them a
-kindness, or by rendering them a service, is not only the nobler way,
-but the sting of reproach will enter deeply into their souls, and while
-unto us it will be a noble retaliation, our triumph will not
-unfrequently be rendered complete, not only by beating out the malice
-that had otherwise stood against us, but by bringing repentant hearts to
-offer themselves at the shrine of friendship. A more glorious victory
-can not be gained over another man than this, that when the injury began
-on his part the kindness should begin on ours.
-
-The tongue of kindness is full of pity, love, and comfort. It speaks a
-word of comfort to the desponding, a word of encouragement to the
-faint-hearted, of sympathy to the bereaved, of consolation to the dying.
-Urged on by a benevolent heart, it loves to cheer, console, and
-invigorate the sons and daughters of sorrow. Kind words do not cost
-much. They never blister the tongue or lips, and no mental trouble ever
-arises therefrom. Be not saving of kind words and pleasing acts; for
-such are fragrant gifts, whose perfume will gladden the heart and
-sweeten the life of all who hear or receive them. Words of kindness
-fitly spoken are indeed both precious and beautiful; they are worth much
-and cost little.
-
-Kind words are like the breath of the dew upon the tender plants,
-falling gently upon the drooping heart, refreshing its withered
-tendrils, and soothing its woes. Bright oases are they in life's great
-desert. Who can estimate the pangs they have alleviated, or the good
-works they have accomplished? Long after they are uttered do they
-reverberate in the soul's inner chamber, and, like low, sweet strains of
-music, they serve to quell the memory of bitterness or of personal
-wrong, to lead the heart to the sunnier paths of life. And when the
-heart is sad, and, like a broken harp, the chords of pleasure cease to
-vibrate, how peculiarly acceptable then are kind words from others!
-
-Who can rightly estimate the ultimate effect of one kind word fitly
-spoken? One little word of tenderness gushing in upon the soul will
-sweep long-neglected chords and awaken the most pleasant strains. Kind
-words are like jewels in the heart, never to be forgotten, but perhaps
-to cheer by their memory a long, sad life, while words of cruelty are
-like darts in the bosom, wounding and leaving scars that will be borne
-to the grave by their victim. Speak kindly in the morning; it lightens
-all the cares of the day, and makes the household and other affairs move
-along more smoothly. Speak kindly at night; for it may be that before
-dawn some loved one may finish his or her space of life, and it will be
-too late to ask forgiveness. Speak kindly at all times; it encourages
-the downcast, cheers the sorrowing, and very likely awakens the erring
-to earnest resolves to do better, with strength to keep them. Always
-leave home with kind words; for they may be the last. Kind words are the
-bright flowers of earthly existence; use them, and especially around the
-fireside circle. They are jewels beyond price, and powerful to heal the
-wounded heart, and make the weighed-down spirit glad.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: BENEVOLENCE.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Doing good is the only certain happy action of a man's life. The very
-consciousness of well-doing is in itself ample reward for the trouble we
-have been put to. The enjoyment of benevolent acts grows upon
-reflection. Experience teaches this so truly, that never did any soul do
-good but he came readier to do the same again with more enjoyment. Never
-was love or gratitude or bounty practiced but with increasing joy, which
-made the practicer more in love with the fair act.
-
-If there be a pleasure on earth which angels can not enjoy, and which
-they might almost envy man the possession of, it is the power of
-relieving distress. If there be a pain which devils might almost pity
-man for enduring, it is the death-bed reflection that we have possessed
-the power of doing good, but that we have abused and perverted it to
-purposed ill. He who has never denied himself for the sake of giving has
-but glanced at the joys of benevolence. We owe our superfluity, and to
-be happy in the performance of our duty we must exceed it. The joy
-resulting from the diffusion of blessings to all around us is the purest
-and sublimest that can ever enter the human mind, and can be understood
-only by those who have experienced it. Next to the consolation of divine
-grace it is the most sovereign balm to the miseries of life, both in him
-who is the object of it, and in him who exercises it.
-
-In all other human gifts and possessions, though they advance nature,
-yet they are subject to excess. For so we see, that by aspiring to be
-like God in power, the angels transgressed and fell; by aspiring to be
-like God in knowledge man transgressed and fell; but by aspiring to be
-like God in goodness or love neither man nor angels ever did or shall
-transgress, for unto that imitation we are called. A life of passionate
-gratification is not to be compared with a life of active benevolence.
-God has so constituted our natures that a man can not be happy unless he
-is or thinks he is a means of doing good. We can not conceive of a
-picture of more unutterable wretchedness than is furnished by one who
-knows that he is wholly useless in the world.
-
-A man or woman without benevolence is not a perfect being; they are only
-a deformed personality of true manhood or womanhood. In every heart
-there are many tendencies to selfishness; but the spirit of benevolence
-counteracts them all. In a world like this, where we are all so needy
-and dependent, where our interests are so interlocked, where our lives
-and hearts overlap each other and often grow together, we can not live
-without a good degree of benevolence. We do most for ourselves when we
-do most for others; hence our highest interests, even from a purely
-selfish point of view, are in the paths of benevolence. And in a moral
-sense we know "that it is more blessed to give than to receive." Good
-deeds double in the doing, and the larger half comes back to the donor.
-A large heart of charity is a noble thing, and the most benevolent soul
-lives nearest to God. Selfishness is the root of evil; benevolence is
-its cure. In no heart is benevolence more beautiful than in youth; in no
-heart is selfishness more ugly. To do good is noble; to be good is more
-noble. This should be the aim Of all the young. The poor and the needy
-should occupy a large place in their hearts. The sick and suffering
-should claim their attention. The sinful and criminal should awaken
-their deepest pity. The oppressed and downtrodden should find a large
-place in their compassion.
-
-Woman appears in her best estate in the exercise of benevolent deeds.
-How sweet are her soothing words to the disconsolate! How consoling her
-tears of sympathy to the mourning! How fresh her spirit of hope to the
-discouraged! How balmy the breath of her love to the oppressed! Man,
-too, appears in his best light and grandest aspect when he appears as
-the practical follower of Him who went about doing good. He who does
-these works of practical benevolence is educating his moral powers in
-the school of earnest and glorious life. He is laying the foundation for
-a noble and useful career. He is planting the seeds of a charity that
-will grow to bless and save the sufferings of our fellow-men.
-
-Liberality consists less in giving profusely than in giving judiciously,
-for there is nothing that requires so strict an economy as our
-benevolence. Liberality, if spread over too large a surface, produces no
-crop. If over one too small it exuberates in rankness and in weeds. And
-yet it requires care to avoid the other extreme. It is better to be
-sometimes mistaken than not to exercise charity at all. Though we may
-chance sometimes to bestow our beneficence on the unworthy it does not
-take from the merit of the act. It is not the true spirit of charity
-which is ever rigid and circumspect, and which always mistrusts the
-truth of the necessities laid open to it. Be not frightened at the hard
-word, "impostor." "Cast thy bread upon the waters." Some have unawares
-entertained angels.
-
-A man should fear when he enjoys only what good he does publicly, lest
-it should prove to be the publicity rather than the charity that he
-loves. We have more confidence in that benevolence which begins in the
-home and diverges into a large humanity than in the world-wide
-philanthropy which begins at the outside and converges into egotism. A
-man should, indeed, have a generous feeling for the welfare of the whole
-world, and should live in the world as a citizen of the world. But he
-may have a preference for that particular part in which he lives.
-Charity begins at home, but it may and _ought_ to go abroad; still we
-have no respect for self-boasting charity which neglects all objects of
-commiseration near and around it, but goes to the end of the world in
-search of misery for the sake of talking about it.
-
-Generosity during life is a very different thing from generosity in the
-hour of death. One proceeds from genuine liberality and benevolence; the
-other from pride or fear. He that will not permit his wealth to do any
-good to others while he is living prevents it from doing any good to
-himself when he is gone. By an egotism that is suicidal and has a double
-edge he cuts himself off from the truest pleasures here, and the highest
-pleasures hereafter. To pass a whole life-time without performing a
-single generous action till the dying hour, when death unlocks the grasp
-upon earthly possessions, is to live like the Talipat palm-tree of the
-East, which blossoms not till the last year of its life. It then
-suddenly bursts into a mass of flowers, but emits such an odor that the
-tree is frequently cut down to be rid of it. Even such is the life of
-those who postpone their munificence until the close of their days, when
-they exhibit a late efflorescence of generosity, which lacks the
-sweet-smelling perfume which good deeds should possess. And when it
-appears, like the Talipat flower, it is a sure sign that death is at
-hand. They surrender every thing when they see they can not continue to
-keep possession, and are at last liberal when they can no longer be
-parsimonious. The truly generous man does not wish to leave enough to
-build an imposing monument, since there is so much sorrow and suffering
-to be alleviated. They enjoy the pleasure of what they give by giving it
-when alive and seeing others benefited thereby.
-
-A conqueror is regarded with awe, the wise man commands our esteem, but
-it is the benevolent man who wins our affection. A beneficent person is
-like a fountain watering the earth and spreading fertility; it is,
-therefore, more delightful and more honorable to give than to receive.
-The last, best fruit which comes to late perfection, even in the
-kindliest soul, is tenderness towards the hard, forbearance towards the
-unforbearant, warmth of heart towards the cold, philanthropy towards the
-misanthropic.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: VERACITY.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Veracity, or the habitual observance of truth, is a bright and shining
-quality on the part of any one who strives to make the most of life's
-possibilities. It irradiates all of his surroundings, making plain the
-path of duty, and hence the path which leads to the most enduring
-success. It is the bond of union and the basis of human happiness.
-Without this virtue, there is no reliance upon language, no confidence
-in friendship, no security in promises and oaths.
-
-Truth is always consistent with itself, and needs nothing to help it
-out. It is always near at hand, and sits upon our lips, and is ready to
-drop out before we are aware; whereas a lie is troublesome, and sets a
-man's invention upon the rack; and one trick needs many more to make it
-good. It is dangerous to deviate far from the strict rule of veracity,
-even on the most trifling occasions. However guileless may be our
-intentions, the habit, if indulged, may take root, and gain on us under
-the cover of various pretenses, till it usurps a leading influence.
-Nothing appears so low and mean as lying and dissimulation; and it is
-observable that only weak animals endeavor to supply by craft the
-defects of strength which nature has given them. Dissimulation in youth
-is the forerunner of perfidy in old age. Its first appearance is the
-fatal omen of growing depravity and future shame. It degrades parts and
-learning, obscures the luster of every accomplishment, and sinks us into
-contempt.
-
-The path of falsehood is a perplexing maze. After the first departure
-from sincerity, it is not in our power to stop. One artifice unavoidably
-leads on to another, till, as the intricacies of the labyrinth increase,
-we are left entangled in our snare. Falsehood is difficult to be
-maintained. When the materials of a building are solid stone, very rude
-architecture will suffice; but a structure of rotten materials needs the
-most careful adjustment to make it stand at all. The love of truth and
-right is the grand spring source of integrity. The study of truth is
-perpetually joined with the love of virtue. For there is no virtue which
-derives not its original from truth; as, on the contrary, there is no
-vice which has not its beginning in a lie. Truth is the foundation of
-all knowledge and the cement of all society.
-
-Strict veracity requires something more than merely the speaking of
-truth. There are lying looks as well as lying words; dissembling smiles,
-deceiving signs, and even a lying silence. Not to intend what you speak
-is to give your heart the lie with your tongue; and not to perform what
-you promise is to give your tongue the lie with your actions. Deception
-exhibits itself in many forms—in reticency on the one hand or
-exaggeration on the other; in disguise or concealment; in pretended
-concurrence in others' opinions; in assuming an attitude of conformity
-which is deceptive; in making promises, or in allowing them to be
-implied, which are never intended to be performed; or even in refraining
-from speaking the truth when to do so is a duty. There are also those
-who are all things to all men, who say one thing and do another. But
-those who are essentially insincere fail to evoke confidence, and, in
-the end discover that they have only deceived themselves while thinking
-they were deceiving others.
-
-Lying is in some cases the offspring of perversity and vice, and in many
-others of sheer moral cowardice. Plutarch calls lying the vice of a
-slave. There is no vice, says Lord Bacon, that so covers a man with
-shame as to be found false and perfidious. Every lie, great or small, is
-the brink of a precipice, the depth of which nothing but Omniscience can
-fathom. Denying a fault always doubles it. All that a man can get by
-lying and dissembling is that he will not be believed when he speaks the
-truth. A liar is subject to two misfortunes, neither to believe nor to
-be believed. If falsehood, says Montaigne, like truth, had but one face,
-we should be upon better terms; for we should then take the contrary of
-what the liar says for certain truth.
-
-We are not called upon to speak all that we know; that would be folly.
-But what a man says should be what he thinks; otherwise it is knavery.
-No wrong is ever made better, but always worse, by a falsehood. Even
-when detection does not follow, suspicion is always created. Wrong is
-but falsehood put in practice. The Chinese have a proverb which says, "A
-lie has no legs, and can not stand;" but it has wings and can fly far
-and wide. You never can unite, though you may try ever so hard, the
-antagonistic elements of truth and falsehood. The man who forgets a
-great deal that has happened has a better memory than he who remembers a
-great deal that never happened.
-
-After all, the most natural beauty in the world is honesty and moral
-truth; for all beauty is truth. True features make the beauty of a face,
-and true proportions the beauty of architecture, as true measure that of
-harmony and music. In poetry, truth still is the perfection. Fiction
-must be governed by truth, and can only please by its resemblance to
-truth. The appearance of reality is necessary to agreeably represent any
-passion, and to be able to move others we must be moved ourselves, or at
-least seem to be so upon some probable ground. Falsehood itself is never
-so susceptible as when she baits her hook with truth, and no opinions so
-fatally mislead us as those that are not wholly wrong. No watch so
-effectually deceives the wearer as those that are sometimes right.
-
-Such are the imperfections of mankind that the duplicities, the
-temptations, and the infirmities that surround us have rendered the
-truth, and nothing but the truth, as hazardous and contraband a
-commodity as a man can possibly deal in. Colton says that "pure truth,
-like pure gold, has been found unfit for circulation;" and another has
-said, "It is dangerous to follow truth too near lest she should kick out
-your teeth." The trouble consists not in obeying the behests of strict
-veracity, but in lack of prudence and ordinary caution. While all we
-tell should be the truth, it is not always necessary to tell all the
-truth, unless the other one have a right to know. Silence is always an
-alternative with truth. Remember that the silken cords of love must ever
-be linked with those of truth; otherwise they will but gall and
-irritate, instead of guiding into paths of rectitude.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: HONOR.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-A man of honor! What a glorious title is that! Who would not rather have
-it than any that kings can bestow? It is worth all the gold and silver
-in the world. He who merits it wears a jewel within his soul and needs
-none upon his bosom. "His word is as good as his bond," and if there
-were no law in the land one might deal just as safely with him. To take
-unfair advantage is not in him. To quibble and guard his speech so that
-he leads others to suppose that he means something that he does not
-mean, even while they can never prove that it is so, would be impossible
-to his frank nature. His speeches are never riddles. He looks you in the
-eye and says straight out the things he has to say, and he does unto
-others the things he would that they should do to him.
-
-He is a good son and a good brother. Who ever heard him betray the
-faults and follies of his near kindred? And with his friends he proves
-himself true, and will not betray the trust friendship imposes on him.
-And with strangers you do not find him too curious about the affairs of
-others, or too eager to impart information accidentally gleaned by him.
-Real honor and esteem are not difficult to be obtained in the world.
-They are best won by actual worth and merit rather than by art and
-intrigue, which runs a long and ruinous race, and seldom seizes upon the
-prize at last. Clear and round dealing is the honor of man's nature, and
-mixture of falsehood is like alloy in coin of gold and silver, which may
-make the metal work the better, but it embaseth it.
-
-Honor, like reputation and character, displays itself in little acts. It
-is of slow growth. Anciently the Romans worshiped virtue and honor as
-gods; they built two temples, which were so seated that none could enter
-the temple of honor without passing through the temple of virtue, thus
-symbolizing the truth that all honor is founded on virtue. He whose soul
-is set to do right finds himself more firmly bound by the principle of
-honor than by legal restraints—much more at ease when bound by the law
-than when bound by his conscience. He who is actuated by false
-principles of honor does not feel thus. True honor is internal, false
-honor external. The one is founded on principles, the other on
-interests. The one does not ostentatiously proclaim its lofty aims; it
-prefers that its conduct and actions demonstrate its purposes. He who is
-moved by false honor is constantly worried lest some one should doubt
-that he was a man of honor. He is so busily engaged in sustaining his
-reputation against fancied attacks on his honor that he finds but little
-time to devote to the exercise of those acts which a fine sense of honor
-would impel him to do. Such a one may be a libertine, penurious,
-proud—may insult his inferiors and defraud his creditors—but it is
-impossible for one possessed of true honor to be any of these.
-
-Honor and virtue are not the same, though true honor is always founded
-on virtue. Honor may take her tones and texture from the prevailing
-manners and customs of those around us; this renders her vacillating
-unless allied to virtue, which is the same in both hemispheres,
-yesterday as to-day. When honor is not founded on virtue she becomes
-essentially selfish in design, and is unworthy of her name. She is then
-unstable and seldom the same, for she feeds upon opinion, and will be as
-fickle as her food. She builds a lofty structure on the sandy foundation
-of the esteem of those who are, of all beings, the most subject to
-change. Combined with virtue she is uniform and fixed, because she looks
-for approbation only from Him who is the same at all times. Honor by
-herself is capricious in her rewards. She feeds us upon air, and often
-pulls down our house to build our monument. She is contracted in her
-views, inasmuch as her hopes are rooted on to earth, bounded by time,
-and terminated by death. But, when directed by virtue, her hopes become
-enlarged and magnified, inasmuch as they extend beyond present
-things—even to things eternal. In the storms and tempests of life mere
-honor is not to be depended on, because she herself partakes of the
-tumult; she also is buffeted by the waves and borne along by the
-whirlwind. But virtue is above the storm, and gives to honor a sure and
-steadfast anchor, since it is cast into heaven.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: POLICY.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-What is called policy is sometimes spoken of in the same sense as
-prudence, but its nature is cunning. It is a thing of many aspects and
-of many tongues; it can appear in any form and speak in any language. It
-is sometimes called management, but is not worthy of that good name,
-inasmuch as it is but a compound of sagacity and deceit, of duplicity
-and of meanness. It puts on the semblance of kindness and concern for
-your good, but its heart is treachery and selfishness.
-
-This principle, strange as it may seem, is of very extensive influence.
-It is adopted and acted upon by multitudes, who claim to be respectable
-and intelligent men, and is not confined to the few or those of the
-baser sort. Its devotees may not be aware that this is their ruling
-principle of action. They mistake its meaning by giving it a wrong name.
-They call it prudence, discretion, wisdom. Alas! it is not guided by the
-high principles of integrity, which beautify and adorn those noble
-attributes of perfect manhood. Its appropriate name is policy, the
-sister of cunning, the child of deception and duplicity.
-
-This principle of double dealing, of artful accommodation and
-management, is eminently characteristic of the present age. It meets
-every man on his blind side, and by stratagem makes a tool of him to
-accomplish its own wily and selfish purposes. If he is weak, it deceives
-him by its artifices; if he is vain, it puffs up his vanity by flattery;
-if he is avaricious, it allures him with the prospect of gain; if he is
-ambitious, it promises him promotion; if he is timid, it threatens him.
-Its leading maxim is, "The end justifies the means," and, in pursuing
-its end, it sticks at nothing that promises success. It may be traced in
-all departments of business and through all grades of society, from the
-grand councils of the nation to the little town or parish meeting.
-Instead of acting in open daylight, pursuing the direct and
-straightforward path of rectitude and duty, you see men extensively
-putting on false appearances, working in the dark, and carrying their
-plans by stratagem and deceit; nothing open, nothing direct and honest;
-one thing is said, and another thing is meant. When you look for a man
-in one place, you find him in another. With flattering lips and a double
-heart do they speak. Their language and conduct do not proceed from
-fixed principles and open-hearted sincerity, but from a spirit of
-duplicity and selfish policy.
-
-Prudence, caution, and business management are not only a necessity, but
-are commended as the price of success in worldly affairs. They have the
-sanction of our best judgment, and offend no moral sense of right. But
-against mere policy every young man who has any desire of lasting
-respectability and influence ought most carefully be on his guard.
-Nothing can be more fatal to reputation and success in life than to
-acquire the character of an artful intriguer, one who does all things
-with the ulterior design of furthering his own ends. He may succeed for
-a time; but he will soon be found out, and when found out will be
-despised. He who acts on this principle thinks that nobody knows it; but
-he is wretchedly mistaken. The thin disguise that is thrown over the
-inner man is soon seen through by every one, and while he prides himself
-on being very wise and keeping his designs out of sight, all persons of
-the least discernment perfectly understand him, and despise him for
-thinking he could make fools of them.
-
-People often mistake policy for discretion. There is a wide difference
-between the two traits. Policy is only the mimic of discretion, but may
-pass current with the mass in the same manner as vivacity is often
-mistaken for wit and gravity for wisdom. Policy has only private,
-selfish aims, and stops at nothing which may render these successful.
-Discretion has large and extended views, and, like a well-formed eye,
-commands a wide horizon. Policy is a kind of short insight that
-discovers the minutest objects that are close at hand, but is not able
-to discover things at a distance. The whole power of policy is private;
-to say nothing and to do nothing is the utmost of its reach. Yet men
-thus narrow by nature and mean by art are sometimes able to rise by the
-miscarriage of bravery and openness of integrity, and, watching failures
-and snatching opportunities, obtain advantages which belong to higher
-characters.
-
-The observant man will not calculate any essential difference from mere
-appearances. The light laughter that bubbles on the lips, often mantles
-over brackish depths of sadness, and the serious look may be the sober
-veil that covers a divine peace. The bosom may ache beneath diamond
-broaches, or a blithe heart dance under coarse wool sacks. By a kind of
-fashionable discipline the eye is taught to brighten, the lip to smile,
-and the whole countenance to emanate the semblance of friendly welcome,
-while the bosom is unwarmed by a single spark of genuine kindness and
-good-will. Grief and anxiety lie hidden under the golden robes of
-prosperity, and the gloom of calamity is often cheered by the secret
-radiations of hope and comfort, as in the works of nature the bog is
-sometimes covered with flowers and the mine concealed in barren crags.
-Beware, so long as you live, of judging men by the outward appearance.
-
-But nothing feigned or violent can last long. Life becomes manifest. It
-will declare itself, and at last the worthless disguises are worn off.
-Hence, the lesson that the wise man should learn is to guard against
-mere appearances in others, but for himself to pursue the straightforward,
-open course, and in a world of deceit and intrigue show himself a man
-that can be relied on. Thus will his life be influential for good, and
-after he is gone his memory will be revered as that of an upright man.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: EGOTISM.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-There is one quality which brings to its possessor naught but ridicule,
-or, what is still worse, positive dislike: it is sometimes called
-self-conceit, but more commonly and more forcibly expressed by egotism.
-
-Egotism and skepticism are always miserable companions in life, and are
-especially unlovable in youth. The egotist is next door to a fanatic.
-Constantly occupied with self, he has no thoughts to spare for others.
-He refers to himself in all things, thinks of himself, and studies
-himself, until his own little self becomes his ruling principle of
-action. The pests of society are egotists. There are some men whose
-opposition can be reckoned upon against every thing that has not
-emanated from themselves. He that falls in love with himself will have
-no rivals. The egotist's code is, Every thing for himself, nothing for
-others. Hence it is by reason of their selfishness that they find the
-world so ugly, because they can only see themselves in it.
-
-An egotist is seldom a man of brilliant parts. A talented or sensible
-man is apt to drop out of his narration every allusion to himself. He is
-content with putting his theme on its own ground. You shall not tell me
-you have learned to know most men. Your saying so disproves it. You
-shall not tell me by their titles what books you have read. You shall
-not tell me your house is the best and your pictures the finest. You
-shall make me feel it. I am not to infer it from your conversation. It
-is a false principle, because we are entirely occupied with ourselves,
-we must equally occupy the thoughts of others. The contrary inference is
-but the fair one. We are such hypocrites that whatever we talk of
-ourselves, though our words may sound humble, our hearts are nearly
-always proud. When all is summed up, a man never speaks of himself
-without loss; his accusation of himself is always believed, his praises
-never. This love of talking of self is a disease that, like influenza,
-falls on all constitutions. It is allowable to speak of yourself,
-provided you do not continually advance new arguments in your favor. But
-abuse of self is nearly as bad, since we can not help suspecting that
-those who abuse themselves are, in reality, angling for approbation.
-
-Ofttimes we dislike egotism in others simply because of our own. We feel
-it a slight, when we are by, that one should talk of himself, or seek to
-entertain us with his own interests instead of asking us ours. He who
-thinks he can find in himself the means of doing without others is much
-mistaken. But he who thinks others can not do without him is still more
-mistaken. Conceit is the most contemptible and one of the most odious
-qualities in the world. It is vanity drawn from all other shifts, and
-forced to appeal to itself for admiration. It is to nature what paint is
-to beauty; it is not only needless, but it impairs what it would
-improve. He who gives himself airs of importance exhibits the
-credentials of impotence. He that fancies himself very enlightened
-because he sees the deficiency of others may be very ignorant because he
-has not studied his own. In the same degree as we overrate ourselves we
-shall underrate others; for injustice allowed at home is not likely to
-be corrected abroad.
-
-It is this unquiet love of self that renders us so sensitive. It is an
-instrument useful, but dangerous. It often wounds the hand that makes
-use of it, and seldom does good without doing harm. The sick man who
-sleeps ill thinks the night long. We exaggerate all the evils which we
-encounter; they are great, but our sensibility increases them. Man
-should not prize himself by what he has; neither should others prize him
-by what he professes to have, or what he by vigorous talk constantly
-lays claim to possess. We should seek the more valuable qualities which
-lie hidden in his true self. He mistakes who values a jewel by its
-golden frame, or a book by its silver clasps, or a man by reason of his
-estates or profession.
-
-The true measure of success always lies between two extremes. Egotism
-and overweening self-conceit are indeed deplorable blemishes in any
-character; but we, perhaps, forget that he who is totally destitute of
-them presents but a sorry figure in the world's battle-field. He lacks
-individuality, and lacks the courage to push forward his own interests.
-In this aggressive age it will not do to be destitute of a right degree
-of self-confidence. Lacking this, men are too often deterred from taking
-that position for which their talents eminently fit them, and at last
-have only vain regrets as they contemplate life's failures. Egotism is
-as distinct and separate from a manly self-confidence in one's own
-powers as the unsightly block of marble is to the finished statuette,
-which consists, indeed, of the same materials as the former, but so
-softened and modified as to be an object of admiration to all. Nor is it
-difficult to draw the dividing lines. Egotism exultingly proclaims to
-all, "Look at me. What strength, what ability, what talents are mine!
-Who so graceful? who so gifted? who so competent to be placed in
-position of honor or authority as I? I am sure of success. Behold my
-triumph!" The man who is withal modest, yet feels that he possesses
-acquisitions and gifts, says: "True, the way is long, the time
-discouraging, but what has been done can be done. I can but make the
-effort, and go forward to the best of my ability; and if so be I fail,
-with a brave heart and a cheerful face I will do what duty points out;
-but if success crowns my efforts, I will so use my advantages that all
-may be benefited."
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: VANITY.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-There is no vice or folly that requires so much nicety and skill to
-manage as vanity, nor any which, by ill-management, makes so
-contemptible a figure. The desire of being thought wise is often a
-hindrance to being so, for such a one is often more desirous of letting
-the world see what knowledge he hath than to learn of others that which
-he wants. Men are more apt to be vain on account of those qualities
-which they fondly believe they have than of those which they really
-possess Some would be thought to do great things who are but tools or
-instruments, like the fool who fancied he played upon the organ when he
-only blew the bellows.
-
-Be not so greedy of popular applause as to forget that the same breath
-which blows up a fire may blow it out again. Vanity, like laudanum and
-other poisonous medicines, is beneficial in small, though injurious in
-large, quantities. Be not vain of your want of vanity. When you hear the
-phrase, "I may say without vanity," you may be sure some characteristic
-vanity will follow in the same breath. The most worthless things are
-sometimes most esteemed. It is not all the world that can pull an humble
-man down, because God will exalt him. Nor is it all the world that can
-keep a proud man up, because God will debase him.
-
-Vanity feeds voraciously and abundantly on the richest food that can be
-served up, or can live on less and meaner diet than any thing of which
-we can form a conception. The rich and the poor, learned and ignorant,
-strong and weak,—all have a share in vanity. The humblest Christian is
-not free from it, and when he is most humble the devil will flatter his
-vanity by telling him of it. On the other hand, it is with equal
-relish that it feeds upon vulgarity, coarseness, and fulsome
-eccentricity,—every thing, in short, by which a person can attract
-attention. It often takes liberality by the hand, prompts advice,
-administers reproof, and sometimes perches visibly and gayly on the
-prayers and sermons in the pulpit. It is an ever-present principle of
-human nature—a wen on the heart of man; less painful, but equally
-loathsome as a cancer. It is of all others the most baseless propensity.
-
-O vanity, how little is thy force acknowledged or thine operations
-discerned! How wantonly dost thou deceive mankind under different
-disguises! Sometimes thou dost wear the face of pity; sometimes of
-generosity; nay, thou hast the assurance to put on the robes of religion
-and the glorious ornaments that belong only to heroic virtue. Vanity is
-the fruit of ignorance. It thrives most in those places never reached by
-the air of heaven or the light of the sun. It is a deceitful sweetness,
-a fruitless labor, a perpetual fear, a dangerous honor; her beginning is
-without providence, but her end not without repentance. Vanity is so
-constantly solicitous of self that even where its own claims are not
-interested it indirectly seeks the aliment which it loves by showing how
-little is deserved by others.
-
-Charms which, like flowers, lie on the surface—such as preserve figure
-and dress—conduce to vanity. On the contrary, those excellencies which
-lie down, like gold, and are discovered with difficulty—such as
-profoundness of intellect and morality—leave their possessors modest
-and humble. Vanity ceases to be blameless, even if it is not ennobled,
-when it is directed to laudable objects, when it prompts us to great and
-generous actions. Vanity is, indeed, the poison of agreeableness, yet
-even a poison, when skillfully employed, has a salutary effect in
-medicine; so has vanity in the commerce and society of the world.
-
-Some intermixture of vainglorious tempers puts life into business, and
-makes a fit composition for grand enterprises and hazardous endeavors;
-for men of solid and sober natures have more of the ballast than the
-sail. Vanity is, in one sense, the antidote to conceit, for, while the
-former makes us all nerve to the opinions of others, the latter is
-perfectly satisfied with its opinion of itself. A vain man can not be
-altogether rude. Desirous as he is of pleasing he fashions his manners
-after those of others. Therefore, let us give vanity fair quarter
-wherever we meet with it, being persuaded that it is often productive of
-good to its possessor, and to others who are within its sphere of
-action.
-
-Vanity pervades the whole human family to a greater or less degree, as
-the atmosphere does the globe. It is so anchored in the heart of man
-that not only in the lower walks of life but in the higher all wish to
-have their admirers. Those who write against it wish to have the glory
-of writing well, and those who read it wish the glory of reading well.
-Vanity calculates but poorly on the vanity of others. What a virtue we
-should distill from frailty! what a world of pain we would save our
-brethren, if we would suffer our weakness to be the measure of theirs!
-
-We would rather contend with pride than vanity, because pride has a
-stand-up way of fighting. You know where it is. It throws its black
-shadow on you, and you are not at a loss where to strike. But vanity is
-such a delusive and multified failing that men who fight vanities are
-like men who fight midgets and butterflies. It is much easier to chase
-them than to hit them. Vanity may be likened to the mouse nibbling about
-in the expectation of a crumb; while pride is apt to be like the
-butcher's dog, who carries off your steak and growls at you as he goes.
-Pride is never more offensive than when it condescends to be civil;
-whereas vanity, whenever it forgets itself, naturally assumes good
-humor.
-
-Extinguish vanity in the mind, and you naturally retrench the little
-superfluities of garniture and equipage. The flowers will fall of
-themselves when the root that nourishes them is destroyed. We have
-nothing of which we should be vain, but much to induce humility. If we
-have any good qualities they are the gift of God. Let every one guard
-against this all-pervading principle, and teach their children that it
-is the shadow of a shade.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: SELFISHNESS.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-There is nothing in the world so malignant and destructive in its nature
-and tendency as selfishness. It has done all the mischief of the past,
-and is destined to do all the mischief of the unseen future. It has
-destroyed the temporal and eternal interests of millions in times past,
-and it is morally certain that it will destroy the interests of millions
-yet to come. It is the source of all the sins of omission and commission
-which are found in the world. We shall not see a wrong take place but
-that the actor is moved by his own private, personal, and selfish
-nature.
-
-Selfishness is a vice utterly at variance with the happiness of him who
-harbors it, for the selfish man suffers more from his selfishness than
-he from whom that selfishness withholds some important benefit. He that
-sympathizes in all the happiness of others perhaps himself enjoys the
-safest happiness, and he who is warned by all the folly of others has
-perhaps attained the soundest wisdom. But such is the blindness and
-suicidal selfishness of mankind that things so desirable are seldom
-pursued, things so accessible seldom attained. The selfish person lives
-as if the world were made altogether for him, and not he for the world;
-to take in every thing, and part with nothing.
-
-Selfishness contracts and narrows our benevolence, and causes us, like
-serpents, to infold ourselves within ourselves, and to turn out our
-stings to all the world besides. As frost to the bud and blight to the
-blossom, even such is self-interest to friendship, for confidence can
-not dwell where selfishness is porter at the gate. The essence of true
-nobility is neglect of self. Let the thought of self pass in, and the
-beauty of a great action is gone, like the bloom from a soiled flower.
-Selfishness is the bane of all life. It can not enter into any
-life—individual, family, or social—without cursing it. It maintains
-its ground by tenacity and contention, and engenders strife and discord
-where all before was peace and harmony.
-
-Few sins in the world are punished more constantly or more certainly
-than that of selfishness. It dwarfs all the better nature of man. It
-takes from him that feeling of kindly sympathy for others' good, which
-is one of the most pleasing traits of manhood, and in its stead sets up
-self as the one whose good is to be chiefly sought. It makes self the
-vortex instead of the fountain, so that, instead of throwing out, he
-learns only to draw in. These withering effects are to be seen not only
-in the high roads and public places of life, but in the nooks and
-by-lanes as well. Not alone among conquerors and kings, but among the
-humble and obscure; in the dissembling artifices of trade; in the
-unsanctified lust of wealth; in the devoted pursuit of station and
-power; confederated with the worst feelings and most depraved designs.
-
-In proportion as we contract and curtail our feelings, so do we confine
-and limit our minds. If all our thoughts, plans, and purposes tend only
-to the advancement of self, we may be sure they will become as
-insignificant as their object, and instead of embracing in their scope
-the welfare of many, rendering us an object of endearment to others,
-they will become dwarfed and conceited, and fall far short of the
-liberality and public spirit by which we attach others to our cause.
-Unselfish and noble acts are the most radiant epochs in the history of
-souls, points from which we date a larger growth of thought and feeling.
-When wrought in earliest youth, they lie in the memory of age, like the
-coral islands, green and sunny, waving with the fruits of a southern
-clime amidst the melancholy waste of water.
-
-The vice of selfishness displays itself in many ways. In an extreme form
-it is termed avarice, and shows itself in an insatiable desire to gather
-wealth. As heat changes the hitherto brittle metal into the elastic,
-yielding, yet deadly Damascus blade, so, when the demon of avarice finds
-lodgment in the heart of man, it changes all his better nature. It may
-find him delighting to do good and relieving the wants of others; it
-leaves him one whose whole energy and power are turned to the
-advancement of self alone. This is the grand center to which all his
-efforts tend. There is no length to which an avaricious man will not go
-in his mad career. In order that wealth may be his he will run almost
-any risks, stand any privation, and will sacrifice not only his own
-comfort and happiness, but that also of his friends and associates, or
-even of his own family circle. His mind is never expanded beyond the
-circumference of the almighty dollar. He thinks not of his immortal
-soul, his accountability to God, or of his final destiny. Selfishness in
-its worst form has complete possession of his heart. It is the ruling
-principle of his life. One strange feature about this form of
-selfishness is that it ultimately defeats its own ends. Its possessor is
-an Ishmael in the community. He passes to the grave without tasting the
-sweets of friendship or the comforts of life. Striving for wealth in
-order that he may have wherewith to procure happiness, he ends with the
-sacrifice of all the means of enjoyment in order that he may augment his
-wealth more rapidly.
-
-The closing hours of a life of selfishness must be clouded with many
-painful thoughts. Chances for doing good passed unimproved. In order
-that some slight personal advantage might be gained kindly feelings were
-suppressed. The heart, which was intended to beat with compassion for
-others, has become contracted to a narrow circle, and life, that
-inestimable gift of Providence, instead of drawing to its close a
-rounded and complete whole, has been stinted and dwarfed, and passes on
-to the other world but illy prepared for the great changes wrought by
-the hand of death.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: OBSTINACY.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Obstinacy and contention are common qualities, most appearing in and
-best becoming a mean and illiterate soul. They arise not so much from a
-conscious defect of voluntary power, as foolhardiness is not seldom the
-disguise of conscious timidity. Obstinacy must not be confounded with
-perseverance; for obstinacy presumptuously declines to listen to reason,
-but perseverance only continues its exertion while satisfied that good
-judgment sustains its course. There are few things more singular than
-that obstinacy which, in matters of the highest importance to ourselves,
-often prevents us from acknowledging the truth that is perfectly plain
-to all.
-
-There is something in obstinacy which differs from every other passion.
-Whenever it fails it never recovers, but either breaks like iron or
-crumbles sulkily away like a fractured arch. Most other passions have
-their periods of fatigue and rest, their suffering and their care; but
-obstinacy has no resources, and the first wound is mortal. Narrowness of
-mind is often the cause of obstinacy; we do not easily believe beyond
-what we see. Hence it is that the more extensive one's knowledge of
-mankind becomes, the less inclined is he to the vice of obstinacy; and
-an obstinate disposition, instead of denoting a mind of superior
-ability, always denotes a dwarfed, ignorant, and selfish disposition. An
-obstinate, ungovernable self-sufficiency plainly points out to us that
-state of imperfect maturity at which the graceful levity of youth is
-lost and the solidity of experience not yet acquired.
-
-Obstinacy is not only a result of a narrow, illiberal judgment, but it
-is a barrier to all improvements. It casts the mind in a mold, and as
-utterly prevents it from expanding as though it were a material
-substance encased in iron. A stubborn mind conduces as little to wisdom,
-or even to knowledge, as a stubborn temper to happiness. Whosoever
-perversely resolves to adhere to plans or opinions, be they right or be
-they wrong, because they have adopted them, raises an impassable bar to
-information. The wiser we are the more we are aware of the extent of our
-ignorance. Those who have but just entered the vestibule of the temple
-of knowledge invariably feel themselves much wiser than those who meekly
-worship in the inner sanctuary. Positiveness is much more apt to
-accompany the statement of the superficial observer than him whose
-experience has been vast and profound. Sir Isaac Newton, who might have
-spoken with authority, felt as a child on the shore of the great sea of
-human knowledge. Doubtless many of his followers feel as though far out
-on the tossing waves; for they act as if their opinion could by no
-possibility be wrong.
-
-Sometimes obstinacy is confounded with firmness, and under this misnomer
-is practiced as a virtue. But the line between obstinacy and firmness is
-strong and decisive. Firmness of purpose is one of the most necessary
-sinews of character, and one of the best instruments of success. Without
-it, genius wastes its efforts in a maze of inconsistencies. Firmness,
-while not suffering itself to be easily driven from its course,
-recognizes the fact that it is only perfection that is immutable, but
-that for things imperfect change is the way to perfect them. It gets the
-name of obstinacy when it will not admit of a change for the better.
-Firmness without knowledge can not be always good. In things ill it is
-not virtue, but an absolute vice. It is a noble quality; but unguided by
-knowledge or humility, it falls into obstinacy, and so loses the traits
-whereby we before admired it.
-
-Society is often dragged down to low standards by two or three who
-propose, in every case, to fight every thing and every idea of which
-they are not the instigators. There is nothing harder for a man with a
-strong will than to make up his mind not always to have his own way; to
-submit, in many cases, rather than to quarrel with his neighbors. One
-must certainly make up his mind to lose much of happiness who is not
-willing to give way at times to the wishes of others. We must learn to
-turn sharp corners quietly, or we shall be constantly hurting ourselves.
-
-But we must not, in decrying obstinacy, overlook the fact that, while it
-certainly is a great vice and frequently the cause of great mischief,
-yet it has closely allied with it the whole line of masculine virtues,
-constancy, fidelity, and fortitude, and that in their excess all the
-virtues easily fall into it. Yet it is ever easy to determine the line
-of demarkation where these virtues end and obstinacy begins. The
-smallest share of common sense will suffice to detect it, and there is
-little doubt that few people pass this boundary without being conscious
-of the fault. The business of constancy chiefly is bravely to stand by
-and stoutly to suffer those inconveniences which are not otherwise
-possible to be avoided. But constancy does not adhere to an opinion
-merely for the sake of having its own way, wherein it differs from
-obstinacy.
-
-There are situations in which the proper opinions and modes of action
-are not evident. In such cases we must maturely reflect ere we decide;
-we must seek for the opinions of those wiser and better acquainted with
-the subject than ourselves; we must candidly hear all that can be said
-on both sides; then, and then only, can we in such cases hope to
-determine wisely. But the decision once so deliberately adopted we must
-firmly sustain, and never yield but to the most unbiased conviction of
-our former errors. But when such conviction is secured, it is the part
-of true manliness to acknowledge it, and of true wisdom to make the
-required change. There is no principle of constancy or of perseverance
-or of fortitude that requires us to continue in our former course when
-convinced that it is wrong.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: SLANDER.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-There is nothing which wings its flight so swiftly as calumny; nothing
-which is uttered with more ease; nothing which is listened to with more
-readiness, or dispersed more widely. Slander soaks into the mind as
-water soaks into low and marshy places, where it becomes stagnant and
-offensive. Slander is like the Greek fire, which burned unquenched
-beneath the water; or, like the weeds which, when you have extirpated
-them in one place, are sprouting vigorously in another; or, it is like
-the wheel which catches fire as it goes, and burns with fiercer
-conflagration as its own speed increases.
-
-The tongue of slander is never tired; in one form or another it manages
-to keep itself in constant employment. Sometimes it drips honey and
-sometimes gall. It is bitter now, and then sweet. It insinuates or
-assails directly, according to circumstances. It will hide a curse under
-a smooth word and administer poison in the phrases of love. Like death,
-it "loves a shining mark," and is never so available and eloquent as
-when it can blight the hopes of the noble-minded, soil the reputation of
-the pure, and break down or destroy the character of the brave and
-strong.
-
-No soul of high estate can take delight in slander. It indicates lapse,
-tendency toward chaos, utter depravity. It proves that somewhere in the
-soul there is a weakness—a waste, evil nature. Education and refinement
-are no proof against it. They often serve only to polish the slanderous
-tongue, increase its tact, and give it suppleness and strategy.
-
-He that shoots at the stars may hurt himself, but not endanger them.
-When any man speaks ill of us we are to make use of it as a caution,
-without troubling ourselves at the calumny. He is in a wretched case
-that values himself upon the opinions of others, and depends upon their
-judgment for the peace of his life. The contempt of injurious words
-stifles them, but resentment revives them. He that values himself upon
-conscience, not opinion, never heeds reproaches. When ill-spoken of take
-it thus: If you have not deserved it you are none the worse; if you
-have, then mend. Flee home to your own conscience, and examine your own
-heart. If you are guilty it is a just correction; if not guilty it is a
-fair instruction; make use of both; so shall you distill honey out of
-gall, and out of an open enemy create a secret friend.
-
-That man who attempts to bring down and depreciate those who are above
-him does not thereby elevate himself. He rather sinks himself, while
-those whom he traduces are benefited rather than injured by the slander
-of one so base as he. He who indulges in slander is like one who throws
-ashes to the windward, which come back to the same place and cover him
-all over. To be continually subject to the breath of slander will
-tarnish the purest virtue as a constant exposure to the atmosphere will
-obscure the luster of the finest gold; but in either the real value of
-both continues the same, although the currency may be somewhat impeded.
-Dirt on the character, if unjustly thrown, like dirt on the clothes,
-should be let alone awhile until it dries, and then it will rub off
-easily enough. Slander, like other poisons, when administered in very
-heavy doses, is often thrown off by the intended victim, and thus
-relieves where it was meant to kill. Dirt sometimes acts like fuller's
-earth—defiling for the moment, but purifying in the end.
-
-How small a matter will start a slanderous report! How frequently is the
-honesty and integrity of a man disposed of by a smile or a shrug! How
-many good and generous actions have been sunk in oblivion by a
-distrustful look, or stamped with the imputation of proceeding from bad
-motives by a mysterious and seasonable whisper! A mere hint, a
-significant look, a mysterious countenance, directing attention to a
-particular person, is often amply sufficient to start the tongue of
-slander.
-
-Never does a man portray his own character more vividly than in his
-manner of portraying another's. There is something unsound about the man
-whom you have never heard say a good word about any mortal, but who can
-say much of evil of nearly all he is acquainted with. Never speak evil
-of another, even with a cause. Remember we all have our faults, and if
-we expect charity from the world we must be charitable ourselves. Most
-persons have visible faults, and most are sometimes inconsistent; upon
-these faults and mistakes petty scandal delights to feast. And even
-where free from external blemishes envy and jealousy can start the
-bloodhound of suspicion—create a noise that will attract attention, and
-many may be led to suppose there is game where there is nothing but thin
-air.
-
-A word once spoken can never be recalled; therefore it is prudent to
-think twice before we speak, especially when ill is the burden of our
-talk. Give no heed to an infamous story handed you by a person known to
-be an enemy to the one he is defaming; neither condemn your neighbor
-unheard, for there are always two sides of a story. Hear no ill of a
-friend, nor speak any of an enemy. Believe not all you hear, nor report
-all you believe. Be cautious in believing ill of others, and more
-cautious in reporting it.
-
-There is seldom any thing uttered in malice which returns not to the
-heart of the speaker. Believe nothing against another but on good
-authority, nor report what may hurt another, unless it be a greater hurt
-to others to conceal it. It is a sign of bad reputation to take pleasure
-in hearing ill of our neighbors. He who sells his neighbor's credit at a
-low rate makes the market for another to buy his at the same rate. He
-that indulges himself in calumniating or ridiculing the absent plainly
-shows his company what they may expect from him after he leaves them.
-
-Deal tenderly with the absent. Say nothing to inflict a wound on their
-reputation. They may be wrong and wicked, yet your knowledge of it does
-not oblige you to disclose their character, except to save others from
-injury. Then do it in a way that bespeaks a spirit of kindness for the
-absent offender. Evil reports are often the results of misunderstanding
-or of evil designs, or they proceed from an exaggerated or partial
-disclosure of facts. Wait, learn the whole story before you decide; then
-believe what the evidence compels you to, and no more. But even then
-take heed not to indulge the least unkindness, else you dissipate all
-the spirit of prayer for them, and unnerve yourself for doing them good.
-
-On many a mind and many a heart there are sad inscriptions deeply
-engraved by the tongue of slander, which no effort can erase. They are
-more durable than the impression of the diamond on the glass, for the
-inscription on the glass may be destroyed by a blow, but the impression
-on the heart will last forever. Let not the sting of calumny sink too
-deeply in your soul. He who is never subject to slander is generally of
-too little mental account to be worthy of it. Remember that it is always
-the best fruits that the birds pick at, that wasps light on the finest
-flowers, and that slanderers are like flies, that overlook all a man's
-good parts in order to light upon his sores. Know that slander is not
-long-lived, provided that your conduct does not justify them, and that
-truth, the child of time, erelong will appear to vindicate thee.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: IRRITABILITY.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Few characteristics are more unfortunate in their effects on the
-character of their possessor than irritability, few more repulsive and
-annoying to those with whom circumstances bring him in contact.
-Irritable people are always unjust, always exacting, always
-dissatisfied. They claim every thing of others, yet receive their best
-efforts with petulance and disdain. This habit has an unfortunate
-tendency of growth, until it renders a person wholly incapable of
-conferring happiness upon others. As the morning fog renders the most
-familiar objects uncouth in appearance, so it distorts the imagination
-and disorders the mental faculties, so that truth can not be
-distinguished from falsehood or friendship from enmity.
-
-It is one great spring-source of envy and discontent, poisoning the
-fountain of life; it is a moral Upas-tree, scattering ruin and
-desolation on every side. Its origin is not difficult to trace; activity
-and energy are its correctives. Those who habitually occupy their minds
-about things serviceable to others and to themselves are seldom peevish
-or irritable; but those whose powers are enervated by inertia, whose
-mental pabulum is fiction generated in a disordered fancy, become
-misanthropic or grumblers, and speedily give way to incessant
-fault-finding, as annoying as it is unjust. Did irritable people know or
-could they feel the effect of their conduct upon others, they would
-doubtless seek to refrain from the habit; but the possessor of such a
-turn of mind is as selfish as he is unjust, and cares for no one but
-himself. For others he cares nothing. While he claims the greatest
-deference for himself, he will not defer to the wishes of others in the
-slightest degree.
-
-The personal sin of fretting is almost as extensive as any other evil,
-and if not universal, it is at least very general. It is as vain and
-useless a habit as any one can harbor. It is a direct violation of the
-law of God, and its direful effects are fearful to contemplate. Nothing
-so warps a man's nature, sours his disposition, and, sooner or later,
-breaks up the friendly relationship of the domestic circle. It is sinful
-in its beginning, sinful in its progress, and disastrous in its results.
-Such a spirit in the family, in the school or Church is sure to become
-contagious, and result in great injury.
-
-A fretting, irritable disposition will not fail of finding frequent
-opportunities for indulgence. It is not particular as to time, place, or
-cause. Occasions literally multiply as the habit increases in strength.
-Nothing seems to go right with its possessor. Instead of conquering
-circumstances they control and conquer him. Fretting weakens one's
-self-respect, dissipates the regards of others, and breaks asunder the
-bonds of affection. If a scolder should, through deception and ignorance
-of his true character, be for a time loved, still the canker is there,
-the mine is sapped, and, sooner or later, the affections will be
-sundered. Such a habit too frequently indulged in has drawn the best of
-husbands into dissipation, rendered the most affectionate of wives
-miserable, and estranged members of the same family circle. It ruins all
-the relationships of life, it is a most pernicious disposition, a
-dreadful inheritance.
-
-It is ever the disposition of human nature to pattern more easily after
-the evils by which we are surrounded than the good. There is also an
-unfortunate disposition on our part to criticise the faults of those
-around us which displease us. Did we always do this in a spirit of true
-kindness it were well; but a confirmed grumbler is at heart so
-thoroughly selfish that the spirit of charity is utterly foreign to his
-complaints. Instead of earnest endeavor to discover and pattern after
-the perfection of those by whom they are surrounded, they seem bent only
-on learning the faults of others, and to take positive pleasure in
-making them public. Such a spirit only displays our own weakness; it
-shows to all keen observers that we have not patience enough to bear
-with our neighbor's weakness. It defeats its own ends, and instead of
-exposing the faults of our neighbors, serves only to call attention to
-our own irritable, peevish, unlovable disposition.
-
-It is an unfailing sign of moral weakness to be constantly giving way to
-fitful outbreaks of ill-temper. Fools, lunarians, the weak-minded, and
-the ignorant are irascible, impatient, and possess an ungovernable
-disposition; great hearts and wise are calm, forgiving, and serene. To
-hear one perpetual round of complaint and murmuring, to have every
-pleasant thought scared away by this evil spirit, is a sore trial. It
-is, like the sting of a scorpion, a perpetual nettle destroying your
-peace, rendering life a burden. Its influence is deadly, and the purest
-and sweetest atmosphere is contaminated into a deadly miasma wherever
-this evil genius prevails. It has been truly said that, while we ought
-not to let the bad temper of others influence us, it would be as
-reasonable to spread a blister upon the skin and not expect it to draw,
-as to think a family not suffering because of the bad temper of any of
-its inmates. One string out of tune will destroy the music of an
-instrument otherwise perfect, so if all the members of a family do not
-cultivate a kind and affectionate disposition there will be discord and
-every evil work.
-
-To say the least, such a disposition is a most unfortunate one. It
-bespeaks littleness of soul and ignorance of mankind. It is far wiser to
-take the more charitable view of our fellow-men. Life takes its hue in a
-great degree from the color of our own minds. If we are frank and
-generous the world treats us kindly. If, on the contrary, we are
-suspicious, men learn to be cold and cautious toward us. Let a person
-get the reputation of being touchy, and every body is under more or less
-restraint in his or her presence. The people who fire up easily miss a
-deal of happiness. Their jaundiced tempers destroy their own comfort as
-well as that of their friends. They always have some fancied slight to
-brood over. The sunny, serene moments of less selfish dispositions never
-visit them. True wisdom inculcates the necessity of self-control in all
-instances. Much may be affected by cultivation. We should learn to
-command our feelings, and act prudently in all the ordinary concerns of
-life. This will better prepare us to meet sudden emergencies with
-calmness and fortitude.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: ENVY.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Envy is the daughter of Pride, the author of murder and revenge, the
-beginner of secret sedition, and the perpetual tormentor of virtue. Envy
-is the slime of the soul, a venom, a poison or quicksilver, which
-consumeth the flesh and dryeth up the marrow of the bones. It is
-composed of odious ingredients, in which are found meanness, vice, and
-malice, in about equal proportions. It wishes the force of goodness to
-be strained, and that the measure of happiness be abated. It laments
-over prosperity, pines at the visit of success, is sick at the sight of
-health. Like death, it loves a shining mark; like the worm, it never
-runs but to the fairest fruits; like a cunning bloodhound, it singles
-out the fattest deer in the flock.
-
-Envy is no less foolish than it is detestable. It is a vice which keeps
-no holiday, but is always in the wheel and working out its own disquiet.
-It loves darkness rather than light, because its deeds are evil.
-Scorpions can be made to sting themselves to death when confined within
-a circle of fire. Even such is envy; for when surrounded on all sides by
-the brightness of another's prosperity it speedily destroys itself. He
-whose heart is imbued with the spirit of envy loseth much of the
-pleasures of life. The envious man is in pain upon all occasions which
-ought to give him pleasure.
-
-It were not possible for one to adopt a more suicidal course as far as
-his own happiness is concerned. The relish of his life is inverted, and
-the objects which administer the highest satisfaction to those who are
-exempt from this passion give the quickest pangs to those subject to it.
-As when we look through glasses colored all objects partake of the
-glasses' color, so one moved and influenced by envy sees not the
-perfection of his fellow-creatures, but that they are to him odious.
-Youth, beauty, valor, and wisdom are, to their perverted view, but
-objects calculated to provoke their displeasure. What a wretched and
-apostate state is this—to be offended with excellence, and to hate a
-man because we approve him! Were not its effects so disastrous to
-personal character, the fit weapon wherewith to meet it were the
-ridicule of all sensible people. But the evil is too deeply seated to be
-spoken of lightly. As its cause is situated deep in the character of the
-individual, so its effects are far-reaching in his life.
-
-He that is under the dominion of envy can not see perfections. He is so
-blinded that he is always degrading or misrepresenting things which are
-excellent. This brings out strongly the difference between the envious
-man and him who is moved by the spirit of benevolence. The envious man
-is tormented, not only by all the ills that befall himself, but by all
-the good that happens to another; whereas the benevolent man is better
-prepared to bear his own calamities unruffled, from the complacency and
-serenity he has secured from contemplating the prosperity of all around
-him. For the man of true benevolence the sun of happiness must be
-totally eclipsed before it can be darkness around him. But the envious
-man is made gloomy, not only by his own cloud of sorrow, but by the
-sunshine around the heart of another.
-
-Other passions have objects to flatter them, and seem to content and
-satisfy them for a while. There is power in ambition, pleasure in
-luxury, and pelf in covetousness; but envy can give nothing but
-vexation. Envy is so base and detestable, so vile in its origin, and so
-pernicious in its effects, that the predominance of almost any other
-quality is to be preferred. It is a passion so full of cowardice and
-shame that nobody ever had the confidence to own it. He that envieth
-maketh another man's virtue his vice, and another man's happiness his
-torment; whereas he that rejoiceth at the prosperity of another is
-partaker of the same.
-
-Envy is a sentiment that desires to equal, or excel, the efforts of its
-compeers, not so much by increasing our own toil and ingenuity as by
-diminishing the merits due to the efforts of others. It seeks to elevate
-itself by the degradation of others; it detests the sound of another's
-praise, and deems no renown acceptable that must be shared. Hence, when
-disappointments occur, they fall with unrelieved violence, and the
-consciousness of discomfited rivalry gives poignancy to the blow.
-Whoever feels pain in learning the good character of his neighbors will
-feel a pleasure in the reverse; and those who despair to rise to
-distinction by their virtues are happy if others can be depressed to a
-level with themselves.
-
-Envy is so cruel in its pursuit that, when once hounded on, it rests not
-till the grave closes over its victim. There is a secure refuge against
-defamation, and one redeeming trait of human nature is that there every
-man's well-earned honors defend him against calumny. Honors bestowed
-upon the illustrious dead have in them no admixture of envy; but these
-are about the only kind of honors administered free from envy. Though
-the fact is to be deeply lamented, it is unfortunately true, that such
-is the perversion of the human heart that ofttimes the only reward of
-those whose merits have raised them above the common level is to acquire
-the hatred and aversion of their compeers. He who would acquire lasting
-fame, and would be remembered as one who did his duty well, must resolve
-to submit to the shafts of envy for the sake of noble objects.
-
-Envy is a weed that grows in all soils and climates, and is no less
-luxuriant in the country than in the court. It is not confined to any
-rank of men or extent of fortune, but rages in the breast of those of
-every degree. We are as apt to find it in the humble walks of life as in
-the proud; as much in the sordid, affected dress as in all the silks and
-embroideries which the excess of age and folly of youth delight to be
-adorned with. Since, then, it keeps all sorts of company, and infuses
-itself into the most contrary natures and dispositions, and yet carries
-so much poison and venom with it that it ruins any life in which it
-finds lodgment—alienating the affections from heaven, and raising
-rebellion against God himself—it is worth our utmost care to watch it
-in all its disguises and approaches, that we may discover it at its
-first entrance, and dislodge it before it procures a shelter to conceal
-itself, and work to our confusion and shame.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: DISCONTENT.]
-
- "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?"
-
- —MRS. SIGOURNEY.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-The lot of the discontented is, indeed, wretched; and truly miserable
-are those who live but to repine and lament, who have less resolution to
-resent than to complain, or else, mingling resentment and complaint
-together, perceive no harmony and happiness around them. They discover
-in the bounty and beauty of nature nothing to admire, and in the virtues
-and capabilities of man nothing to love and respect. A contented mind
-sees something good in every thing, and in every wind sees a sign of
-fair weather; but a discontented spirit distorts and misconstrues all
-things, resolutely refusing to see aught but ill in its surroundings.
-
-The spirit of discontent is very unfortunate; it is even worse, for it
-is wicked as well as weak. The very entertainment of the thought is
-enervating, paralyzing, destructive of all that is worthy of success, in
-the present business of the entertainer. To accomplish any thing beyond
-what the common run of business or professional men perform requires the
-utmost concentration of the mind on the matter in hand. There is no room
-in the thoughts for repining over the misfortunes of one's self, or
-wishes for an exchange of places with another. Indeed, it might be
-truthfully predicated that the indulgers of such wishes would fail
-utterly in the new sphere, could they achieve their desires.
-
-Nearly every one we meet wishes to be what he is not, and every man
-thinks his neighbor's lot happier than his own. Through all the
-ramifications of society all are complaining of their condition, finding
-fault with their particular calling. "If I were only this, or that, or
-the other, I should be content," is the universal cry. Open the door to
-one discontented wish and you know not how many will follow. The boy
-apes the man; the man affects the ways of boyhood. The sailor envies the
-landsman; the landsman goes to sea for pleasure. The business man who
-has to travel about wishes for the day to come when he can "settle
-down," whilst the sedentary man is always wanting a chance to flit about
-and travel, which he thinks would be his greatest pleasure. Town people
-think the country glorious; country people are always wishing that they
-might live in town.
-
-We are told that it is one property required of those who seek the
-philosopher's stone that they must not do it with any covetous desire to
-be rich, for otherwise they shall never find it. But most true it is,
-that whosoever would have this jewel of contentment (which turns all
-into gold; yea, want into wealth), must come with minds divested of all
-ambitious and covetous thoughts, else they are never likely to obtain
-it. The foundation of content must spring up in a man's own mind, and he
-who has so little knowledge of human nature as to seek happiness by
-changing aught but his own disposition will waste his life in fruitless
-efforts, and multiply the griefs which he proposes to remove.
-
-Contentment is felicity. Few are the real wants of man. Like a majority
-of his troubles they are more imaginary than real. If the world knew how
-much felicity dwells in the cottage of the poor, but contented, man—how
-sound he sleeps, how quiet his rest, how composed his mind, how free
-from care, and how joyful his heart—they would never more admire the
-noises and diseases, the throngs of passions, and the violence of
-unnatural appetites that fill the houses of the luxurious, and the
-hearts of the ambitious.
-
-Enjoy the blessings if God sends them, and the evils of it bear
-patiently and sweetly, for this day is ours. Always something of good
-can yet be found, however apparently hopeless the situation. There is
-scarcely any lot so low but there is something in it to satisfy the man
-whom it has befallen, Providence having so ordered things that in every
-man's cup, how bitter soever, there are some cordial drops—some good
-circumstances—which, if wisely extracted, are sufficient for the
-purpose he wants them—that is, to make him contented and, if not happy,
-resigned.
-
-Contentment often abides with little, and rarely dwells with abundance.
-"Peace and few things are preferable to great professions and great
-cares." Such was the maxim of the Stoics. Nature teaches us to live, but
-wisdom teaches us to live contented. Contentment is the wealth of
-nature, for it gives every thing we either want or need. A quiet and
-contented mind is the supreme good; it is the utmost felicity a man is
-capable of in this world; and the maintaining of such an uninterrupted
-tranquillity of spirit is the very crown and glory of wisdom. The point
-of aim for our vigilance to hold in view is to dwell upon the brightest
-parts in every prospect, to call off the thoughts when running upon
-disagreeable objects, and strive to be pleased with the present
-circumstances surrounding us.
-
-Half the discontent in the world arises from men regarding themselves as
-centers instead of the infinitesimal elements of circles. When you feel
-dissatisfied with your circumstances contemplate the condition of those
-beneath you. One who wielded as much influence as was possible in this
-republic of ours says: "There are minds which can be pleased by honors
-and preferments, but I can see nothing in them save envy and enmity. It
-is only necessary to possess them to know how little they contribute to
-happiness. I had rather be in a cottage with my books, my family, and a
-few old friends, dining upon simple bacon and hominy, and letting the
-world roll on as it likes, than to occupy the highest place which human
-power can give."
-
-Some make the sorry mistake of confounding under the term contentment
-that fatal lack of energy which repels all efforts for the improvement
-of one's condition. Improvement can only be won by continuous efforts
-for advancement, and a true contentment is not to rest satisfied, to
-hope for nothing, to strive for nothing, or to rest in inglorious ease,
-doing nothing for your own or other's intellectual or moral good. Such a
-state of feeling is only allowable where nature has fixed an impassable
-and well-ascertained barrier to all further progress, or where we are
-troubled by ills past remedying. In such cases it is the highest
-philosophy not to fret or grumble when, by all our worrying, we can not
-help ourselves a jot or tittle, but only aggravate an affliction that is
-incurable. To soothe the mind to patience is, then, the only resource
-left us, and thrice happy is he who has thus schooled himself to meet
-all reverses and disappointments.
-
-When ills admit of a remedy it is the veriest sarcasm upon contentment
-to bid you suffer them. It is a mockery of content not to strive to
-improve your condition as much as possible. True contentment bids you be
-content with what you have, not with what you are; not to be sighing and
-wishing for things unattainable, but to cheerfully and contentedly
-accept the facts of your position, and then, if the way opens for
-improvement, to accept it at once; not to sit moping over your ill luck
-and many misfortunes, but, having done the best you can, rest content
-with the result; not to be murmuring because your lines are not cast in
-as pleasant places as your neighbor's, but strive to discover the
-pleasures and happiness to be found in your present condition, and with
-a manly and contented spirit dwell therein until providence opens a more
-excellent way, when it is your duty to embrace it. But do not make the
-fatal mistake of hiding behind the word contentment your lack of energy
-and pluck.
-
-Contentment is the true gold which passes current among the wise the
-world over, while supine satisfaction is but the base counterfeit of the
-nobler metal, and brings its possessor into scorn and contempt.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: DECEPTION.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Deceit and falsehood, whatever conveniences they may for a time promise
-or produce, are in the sum of life obstacles to happiness. Those who
-profit by the cheat distrust the deceiver, and the act by which kindness
-was sought puts an end to confidence. Nothing can compete with human
-deceitfulness. Its origin is always to be found in the motives of those
-who are actuated only by a spirit of thorough selfishness. When men have
-some personal end to accomplish, then is seen the full flower of deceit.
-When they have some enemy, opponent, or rival to punish, then deceit
-puts on its most sturdy appearance.
-
-That form of deceit which is cunningly laid and unworthily carried on
-under the disguise of friendship is, of all others, the most detestable.
-There can be no greater treachery than first to raise a confidence, and
-then deceive it. A man can not be justified in deceiving, misleading, or
-overreaching his neighbors. Still less, then, is he justified in
-inspiring confidence by smooth words and a gracious manner, only that he
-may further his own selfish end by breaking the trust placed in him.
-Nothing can be more unjust than to play upon the belief of a confiding
-person, to make him suffer for his good opinion, and fare the worse for
-thinking you an honest man.
-
-A course of deception always defeats the true end of society. Society is
-a great compact designed to promote the good of man, and to elevate him
-in dignity, refinement, and intelligence. But too often it is understood
-solely as a cunning contrivance to palm off unreal virtues and to
-conceal real defects. Dignity is too often only pretension, refinement
-an artificial gloss, and intelligence only verbal display, based upon
-knowledge barely sufficient to make a show. All is vanity and disguises,
-empty mockeries and hollow-hearted nullities. But the heart of man is
-such a sorry mixture of good and bad that we are only too willing to
-urge on the race, striving to see who can be the most deceitful of all.
-Those whom we live with are like actors on a stage; they assume whatever
-dress and appearance may suit their present purpose, and they speak and
-act in keeping with this character.
-
-Man is as naturally set on ambition as the bee is to gather honey. In
-the mad haste to stand well in the eyes of the public and third parties,
-they are prone to assume any disguise or counterfeit any virtue by which
-they may accomplish their selfish ends. They are afraid of slight
-outward acts which will injure them in the eyes of others, but are
-utterly heedless of the tide of evil, of hatred, jealousy, and revenge,
-which throb in their souls to their own condemnation and shame. They are
-more troubled by the outward and external effects of an evil course of
-life than by the evil itself. It is the love of approbation and not the
-conscience that enacts the part of a moral sense in this case.
-
-Though a man may never give them outward expression, still, if he
-harbors in his breast all manner of evil thoughts, they will be potent
-in shaping his character. Though he may disguise them by artful words
-and a gracious bearing, still they are there, and their effect is as
-direful as though their expression was open and plain to all. Society at
-large may be less injured by the latent existence of evil than by its
-public expression; but the man himself is as much injured by the
-cherished thoughts of evil as by the open commission of it, and
-sometimes even more. For evil brought out ceases to disguise itself, and
-appears as hideous as it is in reality; but the evil that lurks and
-glances through the soul avoids analysis and evades detection.
-
-Hypocrisy and deception are so near akin to each other that you can not
-wound the one without touching the sensibilities of the other. A
-hypocrite lives in society in the same apprehension as the thief who
-lies concealed in the midst of the family he is to rob, for he fancies
-himself perceived when he is least so; every motion alarms him; he is
-suspicious that every one who enters the room knows where he is hid and
-is coming to seize him. Thus, as nothing hates so valiantly as fear,
-many an innocent person who suspects no evil intended him is detested by
-him who intends it.
-
-This multitudinous vice of deception takes on many forms. Hypocrisy is
-but one, though it is perhaps as much detested as any. But it is a
-lamentable fact that scarcely any thing is really what it is represented
-to be. As there are so many strange anomalies in human nature, we are
-not surprised when we discover the shallowness of so many apparently
-sincere pretensions, the worthlessness of what appears so fair. When it
-is all carefully summed up, it is found always easier to be than merely
-appear to be. He who pretends to great acquirements is worse put to it
-to conceal his ignorance than would have sufficed to have made him
-master of many sciences.
-
-Those who strive by outward appearances to carry an impression of wealth
-and station beyond their real income are compelled, by their lavish
-expenditures in aid of the deception, to a strict economy in seclusion,
-whereas, were they content to exercise a judicious economy at all times,
-they would soon be placed in that position they so much long for. As for
-the hypocrite, surely this is the most foolish deception of all, since
-the hypocrite is at pains to put on the appearance of virtue, he
-pretends to morality, to pure friendship and esteem, and is more anxious
-that his outward walk and conversation shall savor of these virtues than
-if he were at heart possessed of them.
-
-Since, then, a course of deception puts us to more straits than ever the
-open course, is it not true, then, in every-day life as well as
-individual acts, "honesty is the best policy?" Why purchase the base
-imitation of noble virtues, and derive from them naught but ridicule and
-dislike, when no greater outlay would procure for us the true metals,
-which bring peace of mind and the honor and esteem of all.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: INTERMEDDLING.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-We all of us scorn a busybody, and scarcely have words of contempt
-strong enough to express our feelings towards one who is constantly
-meddling in what in no way concerns him. There are some persons so
-unfortunately disposed that they can not rest easy until they have
-investigated their neighbors' business in all of its bearings, and even
-neglect their own to attend to his.
-
-This trait of character is directly allied to envy on the one hand and
-to slander on the other. Envy incites in us a desire to possess the good
-fortune that we discover falling to others. Meddling is satisfied when
-it discovers all the minutiæ of others' affairs, and may be so utterly
-devoid of energy as to care but little whether it can acquire the good
-or not. Meddling is directly incited by egotism; for that unfortunately
-leads not only to undue confidence in one's own abilities, but, what is
-worse, to a feeling that you are a little better able to attend to the
-affairs of others than they themselves.
-
-Slander, too, oft takes its rise in the curious busyings of those who
-are interfering where there is no call for their services. There is such
-a tendency in human nature to flaunt abroad the faults of others, that
-no sooner does one who systematically intermeddles, discover some
-failing—and he or she is sure to do this, since it is human to
-err—than they straightway hasten to lay before others the fruits of
-their investigations. And thus is given to the public the petty defects
-of some home life, which, by constant repetition, soon assumes gigantic
-size, as snow-balls rolled over and over by boys; and so, at length, the
-happiness of some home circle is destroyed by the malicious and
-poison-giving officiousness of busybodies.
-
-Neglecting our own affairs and meddling with those of others is the
-source of many troubles. Those who blow the coals of others' strife may
-chance to have the sparks fly in their own face. We think more of
-ourselves than of others, but sometimes more for others than ourselves.
-People are often incited to meddling by the desire of having "something
-to tell;" but, if you notice, they are but narrow-minded and ignorant
-people, who talk about persons and not things. Mere gossip is always a
-personal confession either of malice or imbecility, and the refined
-should not only shun it, but by the most thorough culture relieve
-themselves of all temptation to indulge in it. It is a low, frivolous,
-and too often a dirty business. There are neighborhoods in which it
-rages like a pest. Churches are split in pieces by it; neighbors are
-made enemies by it for life. In many persons it degenerates into a
-chronic disease, which is practically incurable. Be on your guard
-against contracting so pernicious a habit.
-
-A person who constantly meddles means to do harm, and is not sorry to
-find he has succeeded. He is a treacherous supplanter and underminer of
-the peace of all families and societies. This being a maxim of unfailing
-truth, that nobody ever pries into another man's concerns but with a
-design to do, or to be able to do, him a mischief. His tongue, like the
-tails of Samson's foxes, carries firebrands, and is enough to set the
-whole field of the world in a flame. To meddle with another's privileges
-and prerogatives is vexatious; to meddle with his interests is
-injurious; to meddle with his good name unites and aggravates both
-evils.
-
-There is, perhaps, not a more odious character in the world than a
-go-between, by which we mean the creature who carries to the ear of one
-neighbor every injurious observation that happens to drop from the mouth
-of another. Such a person is the slanderer's herald, and is altogether
-more odious than the slanderer himself. By this vile officiousness he
-makes that poison effective which else would be inert; for three-fourths
-of the slanderers in the world would never injure their object except by
-the malice of go-betweens, who, under the mask of a double friendship,
-act the part of a double traitor. The less business a man has of his
-own, the more he attends to the business of his neighbors.
-
-Do not cultivate curiosity; every man has in his own life follies
-enough, in his own mind troubles enough, in the performance of his own
-duties difficulties enough, without being curious about the affairs of
-others. Of all the faculties of the human mind, curiosity is that which
-is most fruitful or the most barren in effective results, according as
-it is well or badly directed. The curiosity of an honorable man
-willingly rests where the love of truth does not urge it further onward,
-and the love of his neighbor bids it stop. In other words, it willingly
-stops at the point where the interests of truth do not beckon it onward
-and charity cries halt. But the busybody in others' affairs is not apt
-to hold his curiosity in such reasonable limits. The slightest
-appearance of mystery is sufficient to incite them to great exertions in
-endeavor to gratify a curiosity as idle as it is useless, and entirely
-out of his business.
-
-A meddler in the affairs of others is seldom moved by the spirit of
-charity. He is not curious to discover where he can lend a hand of
-assistance. If such were the case, it were a trait to be admired rather
-than despised; but, allied as it is to envy and slander, to idle
-curiosity and inquisitiveness, it can but be detested by all honest
-seekers for others' good, and shunned by the truly enlightened and
-refined. And if one would be honored and respected, he will strive to be
-as free from the spirit of meddling as possible. He will relegate that
-to the low and frivolous, and respect himself too highly to be classed
-among them.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: ANGER.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Anger is the most impotent passion that accompanies the mind of man. It
-affects nothing it sets about, and hurts the man who is possessed by it
-more than the other against whom it is directed.
-
-The disadvantages arising from anger, which are its unfailing
-concomicants under all circumstances, should prove a panacea for the
-complaint. In moments of cool reflection the man who indulges it views
-with a deep disgust the desolation wrought by passion. Friendship,
-domestic happiness, self-respect, the esteem of others, are swept away
-as by a whirlwind, and one brief fit of anger sometimes suffices to lay
-in wreck the home happiness which years have been cementing together.
-What crimes have not been committed in the paroxysms of anger! Has not
-the friend murdered his friend? the son massacred his parent? the
-creature blasphemed his Creator. When, indeed, the nature of this
-passion is considered what crimes may it not commit? Is it not the storm
-of the human mind which wrecks every better affection—wrecks reason and
-conscience, and, as a ship driven without helm or compass before the
-rushing gale, is not the mind borne away without guide or government by
-the tempest of unbounded rage?
-
-To be angry about trifles is low and childish; to rage and be furious is
-brutish; and to maintain perpetual wrath is akin to the practice and
-temper of devils. The round of a passionate man's life is in contracting
-future debts in his passionate moments which he may have to pay in the
-future, and when it is most inconvenient to make payment. He spends his
-time in outrage and acknowledgment, in injury and reparation; for anger
-begins in folly, but ends in repentance. Anger may be looked for in the
-character of weak-minded people, children not yet learned to govern
-themselves, and those who, for any reason, are not expected to have full
-command over their faculties; but no sensible man or woman in the full
-possession of their powers will suffer the degradation of allowing
-themselves to be overcome by anger without afterwards experiencing the
-utmost mortification.
-
-A passionate temper renders a man unfit for advice, deprives him of his
-reason, robs him of all that is really great or noble in his nature; it
-makes him unfit for conversation, destroys friendship, changes justice
-into cruelty, and turns all order into confusion. Man was born to
-reason, to reflection, and to do all things quietly and in order. Anger
-takes from him this prerogative, transforms his manship into childish
-petulance, his reasoning powers into brute instinct. Consider, then, how
-much more you often suffer from your anger than from those things for
-which you are angry. Consider, further, whether that for which you give
-way to angry outbreaks is any fit compensation whatever for the
-degradation and loss you suffer by giving way to passion.
-
-No man is obliged to live so free from passion as not to show some
-sentiment; on fit occasions it were rather stoical stupidity than virtue
-to do otherwise. There are times and occasions when the expression of
-indignation is not only justifiable but necessary. We are bound to be
-indignant at falsehood, selfishness, and cruelty. A man of true feeling
-fires up naturally at baseness or meanness of any sort, even in cases
-where he may be under no obligation to speak out. But then his anger is
-as reasonable in its outward expression as in its origin.
-
-We must, however, be careful how we indulge in virtuous indignation. It
-is the handsome brother of anger and hatred. Anger may glance into the
-breast of a wise man, but rests only in the bosom of fools. A wise man
-hath no more anger than is necessary to show that he can apprehend the
-first wrong, nor any more revenge than justly to prevent a second.
-
-If anger proceeds from a great cause it turns to fury; if from a small
-cause it is peevishness; and so it is always either terrible or
-ridiculous. Sinful anger, when it becomes strong, is called wrath; when
-it makes outrage it is fury; when it becomes fixed it is termed hatred;
-and when it intends to injure any one it is called malice. All these
-wicked passions spring from anger. The intoxication of anger, like that
-of the grape, shows us to others, but conceals us from ourselves, and we
-injure our own cause in the eyes of the world when we too passionately
-and eagerly defend it.
-
-There is many a man whose tongue might govern multitudes if he could
-only govern his tongue. He is the man of power who controls the storms
-and tempests of his mind. How sweet the serenity of habitual
-self-control! How many stinging self-reproaches it spares us! When does
-a man feel more at ease with himself than when he has passed through a
-sudden and strong provocation without speaking a word, or in undisturbed
-good humor? When, on the contrary, does he feel a deeper humiliation
-than when he is conscious that anger has made him betray himself? How
-many there are who check passion with passion, and are very angry in
-reproving anger! Thus to lay one devil they raise another, and leave
-more work to be done than they found undone. Such a reproof of anger is
-a vice to be reproved. Reproof either hardens or softens its object. The
-sword of reproof should be drawn against the offense and not against the
-offender.
-
-It is not falling in the water, but remaining in it, that drowns a man.
-So it is not the possession of a strong and hasty temper, but the
-submission to it, that produces the evils incident to anger. In no other
-way does a man show genuine nobility more than in resolutely holding his
-temper subject to reason. In no other way can he so effectually attain
-success, for a strong temper indicates a good amount of energy; passion
-serves to dissipate this, so that its good effects are not perceived;
-whereas, under the guiding reins of self-control, this energy is
-gathered into a "central glow," which renders success in any
-predetermined line not only a possibility but a very probable sequence.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: AMBITION.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-There is a large element of deception in all ambitious schemes, for
-ofttimes, when at the summit of ambition, one is at the depths of
-despair, and the showy results of a successful pursuit of ambition are
-sometimes but gilded misery, the casing of despair. The history of
-ambition is written in characters of blood. It may be designated as one
-of the vices of small minds, illiberal and unacquainted with mankind. It
-is a solitary vice. The road ambition travels is too narrow for
-friendship, too crooked for love, too rugged for honesty, too dark for
-science, and too hilly for happiness.
-
-Those who pursue ambition as a means of happiness awake to a far
-different reality. The wear and tear of hearts is never recompensed. It
-steals away the freshness of life; it deadens its vivid and social
-enjoyments; it shuts our souls to our own youth, and we are old ere we
-remember that we have made a fever and a labor of our raciest years. The
-happiness promised by ambition dissolves in sorrow just as we are about
-to grasp it. It makes the same mistake concerning power that avarice
-makes concerning wealth. She begins by accumulating power as a means of
-happiness, but she finishes by continuing to accumulate it as an end.
-
-A thoroughly ambitious man will never make a true friend, for he who
-makes ambition his god tramples upon every thing else. What cares he if
-in his onward march he treads upon the hearts of those who love him
-best. In his eyes your only value lies in the use you may be to him.
-Personally one is nothing to him. If you are not rich or famous or
-powerful enough to advance his interests, after he has got above you he
-cares no more for you. It is the nature of ambition to make men liars
-and cheats, to hide the truth in their breast, and show, like jugglers,
-another thing in their mouth; to cut all friendships and enmities to the
-measure of their interests, and to make a good countenance without the
-help of a good will.
-
-If, as one says, "ambition is but a shadow's shadow," it were well to
-remember that a shadow, wherever it passes, leaves a track behind. It
-would conduce to humility also to remember that of the greatest
-personages in the world when once they are dead there remains no
-monument of their selfish ambition except the empty renown of their
-boasted name. It is a very indiscreet and troublesome ambition which
-cares so much about fame, about what the world will say of us, to be
-always looking in the faces of others for approval, to be always anxious
-about the effect of what we do or say, to be always shouting to hear the
-echo of our own voices. To be famous? What does this profit a year
-hence, when other names sound louder than yours?
-
-The desire to be thought well of, to desire to be great in goodness, is
-in itself a noble quality of the mind, and is often termed ambition,
-though it lacks the element of selfishness which renders ambition so
-odious to all right-minded people. It seems an abuse of language to
-confound such a trait of the mind with ambition. It were better to call
-it aspiration, which becomes ambition only when carried to an extreme,
-or when the objects for the attainment of which ambition incites us to
-put forth our utmost exertions are unworthy the attention of sentient
-moral beings, who live not only for time, but for eternity. A worthy
-aspiration may be a great incentive to advancement and civilization, a
-great teacher to morality and wisdom; but an unworthy ambition, unworthy
-because of its ends or the zeal with which they are pursued, is often
-the instrument of crime and iniquity, the instigator of intemperance and
-rashness.
-
-Ambition is an excessive quality, and, as such, is apt to lead us to the
-most extraordinary results. If our ambition leads us to excel or seek to
-excel in that which is good, the currents it may induce us to support
-will be none but legitimate ones. But if it is stimulated by pride,
-envy, avariciousness, or vanity, we will confine our support principally
-to the counter currents of life, and thus leave behind us misery and
-destruction. An _ambition_ to appear to be thought great in noble
-qualities may lead us to _appear_ good; but where we only act from
-ambition, and not from aspiration, we are subject to fall at any moment,
-since it were vain to expect selfishness to long continue in any right
-action.
-
-If it is our ambition to gain distinction, we will rob the weak and
-flatter the strong, and become the fawning slave of those who are able
-to foist us above our betters, and deck us with the titles and honors of
-the great without any regard to our own merit of respectability. But if
-we are ambitious to do good, without any regard for the fame we may win
-or the praise we may command, our course will be honorable and just, our
-acts and deeds most worthy and good. When we have done with the world
-the prints of our worthy ambition will still remain as a legacy to those
-who come after us to enjoy and reap the benefits, for which they will
-revere our memory, and retain our names in the lists of those whose
-labors have aided in enriching the world and exalting the general
-interests of mankind.
-
-To be ambitious of true honor, of the true glory and perfection of our
-nature is the very principle and incentive of virtue; but to be
-ambitious of titles, of place, of ceremonial respects and civil
-pageantry is as vain and little as the things are which we court. Much
-of the advancement of the world can be traced to the efforts of those
-who were moved by ambition to become famous. Like fire, ambition is an
-excellent servant, but a poor master. As long as it is held subservient
-to integrity and honor, and made to conform to the requirements of
-justice, there is but little danger of a man's having too much of it.
-But, beware! it is such an insatiate passion that you must be
-continually on your guard lest it speedily become the ruling principle
-of your being.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: POLITENESS.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Among the qualities of mind and heart which conduce to worldly success,
-there is no one the importance of which is more real, yet which is more
-generally underrated at this day by the young, than courtesy—that
-feeling of kindness, of love for our fellows, which expresses itself in
-pleasing manners. Owing to that spirit of self-reliance and
-self-assertion, they are too apt to despise those nameless and exquisite
-tendernesses of thought and manner that mark the true gentleman. Yet
-history is crowded with examples showing that, as in literature it is
-the delicate, indefinable charm of style, not the thought, that makes a
-work immortal, so it is the bearing of a man towards his fellows that
-ofttimes, more than any other circumstance, promotes or obstructs his
-advancement in life.
-
-Manner has a great deal to do with the estimation in which men are held
-by the world; and it has often more influence in the government of
-others than qualities of much greater depth and substance. We may
-complain that our fellow-men are more for form than substance, for the
-superficial rather than the solid contents of a man, but the fact
-remains, and it is a clew to many of the seeming anomalies and freaks of
-fortune which surprise us in the matter of worldly prosperity. The
-success or failure of one's plans have often turned upon the address and
-manner of the man. Though there are a few people who can look beyond the
-rough husk or shell of a fellow-being to the finer qualities hidden
-within, yet the vast majority, not so keen-visaged nor tolerant, judge a
-person by his outward bearings and conduct.
-
-Grace, agreeable manners, and fascinating powers are one thing, while
-politeness is another. The two points are often mistaken in the
-occasional meeting, but the true gentleman always rises to the surface
-at last. Nothing will develop a spirit of true politeness except a mind
-imbued with goodness, justness, and generosity. Manners are different in
-every country; but true politeness is every-where the same. Manners
-which take up so much of our attention are only artificial helps which
-ignorance assumes in order to imitate politeness, which is the result of
-much good sense, some good-nature, and a little self-denial for the sake
-of others, but with no design of obtaining the same indulgence from
-them. A person possessed of those qualities, though he had never seen a
-court, is truly agreeable; and if without them would continue a clown,
-though he had been all his life a gentleman usher.
-
-He is truly well-bred who knows when to value and when to despise those
-national peculiarities which are regarded by some with so much
-observance. A traveler of taste at once perceives that the wise are
-polite all the world over, but that fools are polite only at home. Since
-circumstances always alter cases, the polite man must know when to
-violate the conventional forms which common practice has established,
-and when to respect them. To be a slave to any set code of actions is as
-bad as to despise them. Perceptiveness, adaptation, penetration, and a
-happy faculty of suiting manners to circumstances, is one of the
-principles upon which one must work; for the etiquette of the
-drawing-room differs from that of the office or railroad-car, and what
-may be downright rudeness in one case may be gentility in the other.
-
-Benevolence and charity, with a true spirit of meekness, must be one of
-the ruling motives of the understanding; for without this no man can be
-polite. Politeness must know no classification; the rich and the poor
-must alike share its justice and humanity. Exclusive spirits, that shun
-those whose level in life is not on the same extravagant platform as
-themselves, can not aspire to the high honor of wearing the name of
-gentleman. The truly polite man acts from the highest and noblest ideas
-of what is right.
-
-True politeness ever hath regard for the comfort and happiness of
-others. "It is," says Witherspoon, "real kindness kindly expressed."
-Viewed in this light, how devoid of the virtue are some who pride
-themselves on a strict observance of all its rules! Many a man who now
-stands ranked as a gentleman, because his smile is ready and his bow
-exquisite, is, in reality, unworthy of such an honor, since he cares
-more for the least incident pertaining to his own comfort than he does
-for the greatest occasion of discomfort to others.
-
-The true gentleman is recognized by his regard for the rights and
-feelings of others, even in matters the most trivial. He respects the
-individuality of others, just as he wishes others to respect his own. In
-society he is quiet, easy, unobtrusive, putting on no airs nor hinting
-by word or manner that he deems himself better, wiser, or richer than
-any one about him. He is never "stuck up," nor looks down upon others
-because they have not titles, honors, or social position equal to his
-own. He never boasts of his achievements or angles for compliments by
-affecting to underrate what he has done. He prefers to act rather than
-to talk, to be rather than to seem, and, above all things, is
-distinguished by his deep insight and sympathy, his quick perception of
-and attention to those little and apparently insignificant things that
-may cause pleasure or pain to others. In giving his opinions he does not
-dogmatize; he listens patiently and respectfully to other men, and, if
-compelled to dissent from their opinions, acknowledges his fallibility,
-and asserts his own views in such a manner as to command the respect of
-all who hear him. Frankness and cordiality mark all his intercourse with
-his fellows, and, however high his station, the humblest man feels
-instantly at ease in his presence.
-
-The truest politeness comes of sincerity. It must be the outcome of the
-heart or it will make no lasting impression, for no amount of polish
-will dispense with truthfulness. The natural character must be allowed
-to appear freed of its angularities and asperities. To acquire that ease
-and grace of manners which distinguishes and is possessed by every
-well-bred person one must think of others rather than of one's self, and
-study to please them even at one's own inconvenience. "Do unto others as
-you would that others should do unto you"—the golden rule of life—is
-also the law of politeness, and such politeness implies self-sacrifice,
-many struggles and conflicts. It is an art and tact rather than an
-instinct and inspiration.
-
-Daily experience shows that civility is not only one of the essentials
-of success, but it is almost a fortune in itself, and that he who has
-this quality in perfection, though a blockhead, is almost sure to rise
-where, without it, men of high ability fail. "Give a boy address and
-accomplishment," says Emerson, "and you give him the mastery of palaces
-and fortunes. Wherever he goes he has not the trouble of earning or
-owning them; they solicit him to enter and possess." Genuine politeness
-is almost as necessary to enjoyable success as integrity or industry.
-
-We despise servility, but true and uniform politeness is the glory of
-any young man. It should be a politeness full of frankness and good
-nature, unobtrusive, constant, and uniform in its exhibition to every
-class of men. He who is overwhelmingly polite to a celebrity or a nabob
-and rude to a laborer because he is a laborer deserves to be despised.
-That style of manners which combines self-respect with respect for the
-rights and feelings of others, especially if it be warmed up by the
-fires of a genial heart, is a thing to be coveted and cultivated, and it
-is a thing that pays alike in cash and comfort.
-
-What a man says or does is often an uncertain test of what he is. It is
-the way in which he says or does it that furnishes the best index of his
-character. It is by the incidental expression given to his thoughts and
-feelings by his looks, tones, and gestures, rather than by his deeds and
-words, that we prefer to judge him. One may do certain deeds from
-design, or repeat certain professions by rote; honeyed words may mask
-feelings of hate, and kindly acts may be formed expressly to veil
-sinister ends, but the "manner of the man" is not so easily controlled.
-
-The mode in which a kindness is done often affects us more than the deed
-itself. The act may have been prompted by one of many questionable
-motives, as vanity, pride, or interests; but the warmth or coldness of
-address is less likely to deceive. A favor may be conferred so
-grudgingly as to prevent any feeling of obligation, or it may be refused
-so courteously as to awaken more kindly feelings than if it had been
-ungraciously granted.
-
-Good manners are well-nigh an essential part of life education, and
-their importance can not be too largely magnified when we consider that
-they are the outward expressions of an inward virtue. Social courtesies
-should emanate from the heart, for remember always that the worth of
-manner consists in being the sincere expression of feelings. Like the
-dial of a watch they should indicate that the works within are good and
-true. True civility needs no false lights to show its points. It is the
-embodiment of truth, the mere opening out of the inner self. The arts
-and artifices of a polished exterior are well enough, but if they are
-any thing more or less than a fair exponent of inward rectitude their
-hollowness can not long escape detection.
-
-The cultivation of manner, though in excess it is foppish and foolish,
-is highly necessary in a person who has occasion to negotiate with
-others in matters of business. Affability and good-breeding may even be
-regarded as essential to the success of a man in any eminent station and
-enlarged sphere of life, for the want of it has not unfrequently been
-found, in a great measure, to neutralize the results of much industry,
-integrity, and honesty of character. There are, no doubt, a few strong,
-tolerant minds which can bear with defects and angularities of manner,
-and look only to the more genuine qualities; but the world at large is
-not so forbearant, and can not help forming its judgments and likings
-mainly according to outward conduct.
-
-It has been well remarked that whoever imagines legitimate manners can
-be taken up and laid aside, put on and off, for the moment, has missed
-their deepest law. A noble and attractive every-day bearing comes of
-goodness, of sincerity, of refinement, and these are bred in years, not
-moments. It is the fruit of years of earnest, kindly endeavors to
-please. It is the last touch, the crowning perfection of a noble
-character; it has been truly described as the gold on the spire, the
-sunlight on the corn-field, and results only from the truest balance and
-harmony of soul.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: SOCIABILITY.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Society has been apply compared to a heap of embers, which, when
-separated, soon languish, darken, and expire, but, if placed together,
-glow with a ruddy and intense heat, a just emblem of the strength,
-happiness, and security derived from society. The savage who never knew
-the blessings of combination, and he who quits society from apathy or
-misanthropic spleen, are like the separate embers, dark, dead, useless;
-they neither give nor receive heat, neither love nor are beloved.
-
-From social intercourse are derived some of the highest enjoyments of
-life. Where there is a free interchange of opinion, the mind acquires
-new ideas, and, by a frequent exercise of its powers, the understanding
-gains fresh vigor. The true sphere of human virtue is found in society.
-This is the school of human faith and trials. In social, active life
-difficulties will perpetually be met with. Restraints of many kinds will
-be necessary, and studying to behave right in respect to these is a
-discipline of the human heart useful to others and improving to itself.
-It is good to meet in friendly intercourse and pour out that social
-cheer which so vivifies the weary and desponding heart. It elevates the
-feelings, and makes us all the better for the world.
-
-Society is the balm of life. Should any one be entirely excluded from
-all human intercourse he would be wretched. Men were formed for society.
-It is one important end for which they were made rational creatures. No
-man was made solely for himself, and no man is capable of living in the
-world totally independent of others. The wants and weaknesses of mankind
-render society necessary for their convenience, safety, and support. God
-has formed men with different powers and faculties, and placed them
-under different circumstances, that they might be able to promote each
-others' good. Some are wiser, richer, and stronger than others that they
-may direct the conduct, supply the wants, and bear the burdens of
-others. Some are formed for one and some are formed for another
-employment, and all are qualified for some useful business, conducive to
-the general good of society. The whole frame and texture of mankind make
-it appear that they were designed to live in society. The longer men
-live in society the more terrible is the thought of being excluded from
-it.
-
-Society is the only field where the sexes meet on the terms of equality,
-the arena where character is formed and studied, the cradle and the
-realm of public opinion, the crucible of ideas, the world's university,
-at once a school and a theater, the spur and the crown of ambition, the
-tribunal which unmasks pretensions and stamps real merit, the power that
-gives government leave to be, and outruns the Church in fixing the moral
-sense of the people.
-
-Many young men fail for years to get hold of the idea that they are
-subject to social duties. They act as though the social machinery of the
-world were self-operating. They see around them social organizations in
-active existence. The parish, the Church, and other bodies that embrace
-in some form of society all men, are successfully operated, and yet they
-take no part nor lot in the matter. They do not think it necessary for
-them to devote either time or money to society. Sometimes they are apt
-to get into a morbid state of mind, which disinclines them to social
-intercourse. They become so devoted to business that all social
-intercourse is irksome. They go out to tea as if they were going to
-jail, and drag themselves to a party as to an execution. This
-disposition is thoroughly selfish, and is to be overcome by going where
-you are invited, always and at any sacrifice of mere feeling. Do not
-shrink from contact with any thing except bad morals. Men who affect
-your unhealthy mind with antipathy will prove themselves very frequently
-on mature acquaintance your best friends and wisest counselors.
-
-It is to be noticed with what apparent ease some men enter society, and
-how others remain away always. Such are apt to think that society has
-not discharged its duties as to them. But all social duties are
-reciprocal. Society is far more apt to pay its dues to the individual
-than the individual to society. Have you, who complain of the cold
-selfishness of society, done any thing to give you a claim to social
-recognition? What kind of coin do you propose to pay in the discharge of
-the obligations which come upon you with social recognition? In other
-words, as a return for what you wish society to do, what will you do for
-society? Will you be a member of society by right or by courtesy? If you
-have so mean a spirit as to be content to be a beneficiary of society,
-to receive favors and confer none, you have no business in the social
-circle to which you aspire.
-
-The spirit of life is society; that of society is freedom; that of
-freedom the discreet and modest use of it. A man may contemplate virtue
-in solitude and retirement; but the practical part consists in its
-participation and the society it hath with others; for whatever is good
-is better for being communicated. As too long a retirement weakens the
-mind, so too much company dissipates it. Too much society is nearly as
-bad as none. A man secluded from company can have none but the devil and
-himself to tempt him; but he that converses much in the world has almost
-as many snares as he has companions. The great object of society is
-refreshment of spirit. This is not to be obtained by luxury or by the
-cankerous habit of speaking against others, but by a bright and easy
-interchange of ideas on subjects which, even in their brightest and most
-playful aspects, are worthy to engage the thoughts of men.
-
-There is an essential vulgarity in one phase of social life,—that which
-considers the welfare of the guest's stomach to be the essential part of
-the host's duty, and the great question of the guests to relate to the
-decorating of their own backs. Such views elevate nobody; they refine
-nobody; they inspire and instruct nobody; they satisfy nobody. This view
-loses sight of the great end and aim of society, which is to refine and
-elevate mankind, not to feed them upon dainties, or to enable them to
-show off good clothes. Dean Swift had a better relish for good society
-than for choice viands. When invited to the houses of great men he
-sometimes insisted upon knowing what persons he was likely to meet. "I
-don't want your bill of fare, but your bill of company."
-
-It is this losing sight of the true end of society which causes it to
-present so many strange anomalies. Yet with all its defects it is
-well-nigh indispensable to one who would wield power and influence in
-the world's arena. There is no way to act out the promptings of your
-better nature, and to move men in the right direction, so potential as
-that offered to the social man. You can not move men until you show
-yourself one among them. You can not know their wants and needs until
-you have mingled with them. By refusing to cast your lot with others
-socially, you are as powerless to do good as the mountain peak is to
-raise tropical flowers.
-
-It is the manner of some to forego meeting others socially. There will
-certainly come a time when they will regret it; for the human heart is
-like a millstone in a mill: When you put wheat under it, it turns and
-bruises the wheat into flour. If you put no wheat in it, it still grinds
-on; but then it grinds away itself. In society the sorrows and griefs of
-others are the object from which we extract the flour of charity and
-loving kindness; but to the hermit from society his own griefs and
-sorrows have the effect to render him cold and selfish. Man in society
-is like a flower-bud on its native stalk. It is there alone his
-faculties, expanded in full bloom, shine out; there only reach their
-proper use. "It is not safe for man to be alone." In the midst of the
-loudest vauntings of philosophy, nature will have her yearning for
-society and friendship. A good heart wants something to be kind to; and
-the best part of our nature suffers most when deprived of congenial
-society.
-
-It becomes all men to seek the general good of society in return for the
-benefits they receive from it. Though the general good of society
-sometimes requires the individual members to give up private good for
-that of the public, yet it is always to be supposed that individuals
-receive more advantage than disadvantage from society, on the whole.
-Indeed, there is scarcely any comparison in this case. The public
-blessings are always immensely great and numerous. They are more in
-number than can be reckoned up, and greater in worth than can be easily
-described.
-
-The most independent individuals in society owe their principal
-independence to society, and the most retired and inactive persons feel
-the happy influence of society, though they may seem to be detached from
-it. No man can reflect upon that constant stream of good which is
-perpetually flowing down to him from well-regulated society, without
-feeling his obligation to maintain and support it. Should this stream of
-happiness cease to flow, the most careless and indifferent would feel
-their loss, and feel a sense of their duty to uphold the good of
-society. Let the head of society cease to direct and the hands to
-execute, and the other members of the public body would soon find
-themselves in a forlorn and wretched state.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: DIGNITY.]
-
- "The dignity of man into your hands is given,
- Oh keep it well, with you it sinks or lifts itself to heaven."
-
- —SCHILLER.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Dignity denotes that propriety of mien and carriage which is appropriate
-to the different walks and ranks of life. In regard to our intercourse
-with men we should often reflect, not only whether our conduct is proper
-and correct, but whether it is urbane and dignified. Dignity of carriage
-is nearly always associated with high endowments; the reverse is, at any
-rate, true, that high endowments are associated with dignity. "A
-trifling air and manner bespeaks a thoughtless and silly mind," saith a
-Chinese proverb, "but a grave and majestic outside is, as it were, the
-palace of the soul."
-
-True dignity is never gained by place, and never lost when honors are
-withdrawn. There may be dignity in a hovel as well as in a court; in one
-who depends on the sweat of his brow as well as one who is placed, by
-reason of his wealth, in a position of independence. In all ranks and
-classes it is equally acceptable and worthy of esteem. True dignity is
-without arms. It does not deal in vain and ostentatious parade. In
-proportion as we gratify our own self-esteem by a love of display we
-commonly forfeit to the same degree the respect of those whose good
-opinion is worth possessing. A dignified manner is not necessarily an
-imposing manner; for true dignity is but the outward expression of
-inherent worth of character, but an imposing manner is generally
-ostentatious in degree, and as such may be taken as an evidence of
-imposition. That dignity which seeks to make an ostentatious display is
-often only a veil between us and the real truth of things. It is only
-the false mask of appearance put on to conceal inherent defects.
-
-The ennobling quality of all politeness is dignity. Have you not noticed
-that there are some persons who possess an inexpressible charm of
-manner—a something which attracts our love instantaneously, when they
-have neither wealth, position, nor talents? You will find that a dignity
-of manner characterizes their actions, and that a spirit of dignity
-hovers around them. On the other hand, have you not seen persons of
-wealth who were surrounded by luxury and all the comforts of affluence,
-yet, in lacking a spirit of dignity, lacked the essential to render
-their lives influential for good? Where there is an inherent want of
-dignity in the character, how many distinguished and even noble
-acquisitions are required to supply its place! But when a natural
-dignity of character exists, what a prepossession does it enlist in its
-favor, and with how few substantial and real excellencies are we able to
-pass creditably through the world!
-
-There are three kinds of dignity which either adorn or deface human
-character. There is the dignity of etiquette and good manners, which is
-often of an artificial kind, and is a creature of rules and ceremonies,
-and not of the heart. The second is the dignity of pride and arrogance.
-This is a presumptuous dignity arising from self-conceit and egotism. It
-is thoroughly selfish in its nature. It is more a spirit of haughtiness
-and cold reserve than of true dignity. Then there is the dignity of
-compassion and kindness. This is that true dignity which ennobles life.
-It arises, not from selfishness, but from kindness of heart, and from a
-sense of the importance of life.
-
-Some men find it almost impossible to discover the line which separates
-dignity from conceit. Dignity is a splendid personal quality if it be of
-the right sort. To possess it is to be above meanness, above cringing,
-above any thing that is low and unseemly. It holds up its head, even
-among poverty and outward shabbiness, and looks the world bravely in the
-face. It is innate manliness that outward garb can not change. But
-conceit is a very different quality, and its possessor is very far from
-being dignified, though he doubtlessly considers himself to be so. He
-looks upon himself as the grand center of his social system, and upon
-all others as satellites, whose particular business is to revolve around
-him. The assumption may not take shape in words, but it comes out in his
-manner all the same. Let him undertake to be amiable, and there is a
-sort of royal condescension; he takes the attitude of stooping rather
-than that of one reaching out friendly hands to his equals. All this
-would be offensive and somewhat exasperating were it not ridiculous. But
-we laugh in charitable good nature, and pity his absurdities. There is
-little use in trying to point them out to him. He is so hoodwinked by
-his overshadowing self-esteem that he can not see. True dignity does not
-consist in haughty self-assurance. In resolving to be dignified let us
-see to it that we strive for the true kind.
-
-In counseling dignity we advise no spirit of cold hauteur and pride, but
-we do counsel such outward walk and conversations as shall become one
-who has a just appreciation of life and its possibilities. One who is
-always given to light and flippant remarks, and always assuming a free
-and easy style in his demeanor, can not carry such an impression of
-power as one who bears about him the impression of a man among men by
-his dignified and decorous bearing. True dignity exists independent of—
-
- "Studied gestures or well-practiced smiles."
-
-Its seat should be in the mind, and then it will not be found wanting in
-the manner. It is often strikingly and eloquently displayed in the
-bearings of those utterly unacquainted with the strict rules of
-etiquette. If one has a modest consciousness of his own worth, and a
-sincere desire to be of worth to others, he must necessarily display
-true dignity in his manner and bearing towards others.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: AFFABILITY.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Affability is a real ornament, the most beautiful dress that man or
-woman can wear, and worth far more as a means of winning favor than the
-finest clothes and jewels ever were. The exercise of affability creates
-an instantaneous impression in your behalf, while the opposite quality
-excites as quick a prejudice against you. So true is this that were we
-asked to name any one quality which, aside from mere mental powers,
-contributed largely to success, we would mention affability.
-
-Apart from its worth as an agreeable trait of character, affability is a
-valuable commodity. Every one who has business to transact should add
-this to his stock in trade. It costs nothing, while it vastly
-facilitates trade and profit. There are business men and women who make
-fortunes simply by their affable and polite manners. Their wares or
-their services are no better, perhaps, than the stock in trade of their
-crusty neighbors; but having undertaken a business or adopted a
-profession, they are wise enough to know that whatever is to be done
-successfully must be done in a pleasing manner and with a good will.
-
-Their acts appear to be based on the conviction that every body may be
-made a friend, which is every way preferable to acting as if every body
-were an intruder. They do not treat people as though they were in a
-hurry to be done with them, but as though they might be cultivated into
-an acquaintance and grow into a friend. To neglect the small courtesies
-of life is to insure neglect for yourself. And the reason that some
-persons are successful where others fail is that they invite strangers
-to become friends by civility, while the others repel even friends by
-the want of courtesy.
-
-The world at best is extremely selfish. We are too much taken up with
-our own personal aims to notice how others are thriving. We little think
-how others may be wishing for some friendly recognition, how far with
-them the friendly shake of the hand may go. The world is full of
-suffering and sorrow, and it is at these seasons that kindly words come
-with far more than their usual force. The human heart was formed for
-sympathy as naturally as the flower for sunshine. Hence it is no wonder
-that the man of affable and kind manners should be the one who would
-make friends wherever he goes.
-
-It is good to meet in friendly intercourse, and pour out that social
-cheer which so vivifies the weary and desponding heart. Give to all the
-hearty grasp and the sunny smile. They send sunshine to the soul, and
-make the heart leap as with new life and joy. Thus may we become
-brothers in every good word and deed, and peace and good-will spread in
-the world. We long for friendly intercourse, and when deprived of the
-society of others we pine and grow sick at heart, we become misanthropic
-and gloomy. The Summer of the heart changes to dreary Winter, and our
-lives seem overcast and gloomy.
-
-We are not well enough acquainted each with each, and all with all. We
-are not social enough. We are not found often enough at one another's
-houses. We are especially delinquent in the duty of calling upon such as
-come among us and connect themselves with us. We do not welcome them,
-and seek to make their stay as pleasant as possible. We do not take the
-kindly notice we should of such as come to our places of public and
-social gatherings. This is wrong. It is incumbent on us as members of
-society to cultivate a spirit of affability, to strive to make all
-within our influence happy by our kind solicitude for their welfare.
-Says Daniel Webster: "We should make it a principle to extend the hand
-of fellowship to every man who discharges faithfully his duties and
-maintains good order, who manifests a deep interest in the general
-welfare of society, whose deportment is upright, and whose mind is
-intelligent, without stopping to ascertain whether he swings a hammer or
-draws a thread."
-
-As there is nothing to be lost and so much to be gained by the exercise
-of affability, it is deeply to be regretted that so few use it. To be
-affable does not imply an indiscriminate taking into confidence, and
-imparting to third persons the secrets of your business, at the same
-time expecting to be informed of his. To do thus is mere simplicity, and
-is an utter disregard of all cautious rules. But the friendly
-conversation, the hearty grasp of the hand, the feeling of kindness and
-good-will which finds expression in the tones, the willingness to do a
-favor cheerfully,—these constitute true affability, which is not only
-of value to the possessor, but may almost claim a place among the
-Christian graces.
-
-How many there are who are not in want of assistance of material things,
-but who are yearning for social recognition, who feel themselves shut
-out from intercourse with their fellow-beings by the spirit of
-selfishness which shows itself in a refusal of social privileges! It is
-so easy to become thoughtless in this matter that each one should strive
-against the feeling, and should constantly strive to make all around him
-feel that he recognizes in them the man or woman, an equal being with
-himself, and to meet them with kindness by no means devoid of dignity,
-but to let them see that he is moved by a spirit of good-will towards
-all, and desires, as far as possible, to do away with the distinction of
-rank or wealth, and to meet with them on the plane of equality.
-
-In urging affability we do not ignore the fact that there are many to be
-found in every walk of life with whom the less one has to do the better,
-that you would as soon think of taking a serpent into the bosom of your
-family as some people who infest society. But this lamentable fact does
-not lessen the claims of affability, since, because you are fond of
-fruit, you are not required to eat indiscriminately all kinds of fruits,
-the good and also the bad, the nutritious as well as the poisonous, but
-you are to exercise a judicious elimination. So you are not required to
-be frank, open-hearted, and sociable with villains and blacklegs, the
-depraved and licentious. To do this is to sink yourself to their level.
-But a man may be a gentleman, and as such entitled to recognition,
-though his coat be not of broadcloth or of the most fashionable make.
-And a real lady, though clad in calico, is as worthy of frank and
-courteous treatment as though robed in silk and satins.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: THE TOILET.]
-
- "Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,
- But not expressed in fancy;
- Rich, not gaudy,
- For the apparel oft proclaims the man."
-
- —SHAKESPEARE.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-As the index tells us the contents of books, and directs to the
-particular chapter, even so does the outward habit and superficial order
-of garment denote the spirit and demonstratively point out, like to a
-marginal note, the internal qualities of the soul.
-
-We believe it to be the duty of all, young and old, to make their
-persons, as far as possible, agreeable to those with whom they are
-associated. If possible, dress yourself fine where others are fine, and
-plain where the apparel of others is plain. A man who finds himself
-badly dressed amongst well-dressed people feels awkward and ill at ease.
-He stammers and is confused in speech. He makes all manner of ridiculous
-blunders, and it is well-nigh impossible for him to assume that air of
-simple dignity which should characterize the bearing of a gentleman. But
-it should be remembered that this feeling should have nothing to do with
-dress proper; it is only when there is a manifest impropriety in the
-mode of dress. The dress should suit the time and the occasion. The man
-in his workshop or field, or the lady, busied with the household duties,
-should have no occasion to feel ill at ease, because not so finely
-dressed as the casual caller. Such a feeling should be instantly
-checked, since it is born of pride, not of an innate desire to please
-others.
-
-The love of beauty and refinement belongs to every true woman. She ought
-to desire in moderation pretty dresses, and delight in beautiful colors
-and graceful fabrics. She ought to take a certain, not too expensive,
-pride, in herself, and be solicitous to have all belonging to her well
-chosen and in good style. Many fail to understand the true object and
-importance of this sentiment. Let no woman suppose that any man, much
-less her husband, is indifferent to her appearance. But women should
-constantly beware lest what was meant as a means of influence becomes a
-ruling passion. And let it be ever remembered that beauty of dress does
-not reside in the material; that time, place, and circumstances are all
-to be considered; that they may look far more bewitching in the eyes of
-those whom they are desirous to please when clad in neat calico than if
-robed in silks and satins. And depend upon it that the husband, wearied
-with his day's work, had far rather find the wife neatly clad, doing or
-superintending household duties, than, when dressed in the height of
-fashion, she greets him to a home that sadly needs an efficient, willing
-housekeeper.
-
-Through dress the mind may be read, as through the delicate tissue the
-lettered page. Women are more like flowers than we think. In their dress
-and adornments they express their natures, as the flowers in their
-petals and colors. Some women are like the modest daisies and
-violets—they never look or feel better than when dressed in a morning
-wrapper. When women are free to dress as they like, uncontrolled by
-others and not limited by their circumstances, they do not fail to
-express their true characters. A modest woman will dress modestly; a
-really refined and intelligent woman will bear the marks of careful
-selections and faultless taste.
-
-It is to be feared that many, both ladies and gentlemen, fail to
-recognize the beauty which always accompanies simplicity. The stern
-simplicity of the classic taste is seen in the statues and pictures of
-the old masters. In Athens the ladies were not gaudily, but simply
-arrayed, and we doubt whether any ladies have ever excited more
-admiration. Female loveliness never appears to so good advantage as when
-set off by simplicity of dress. Tinselries may serve to give effect on
-the stage or upon the ball-room floor, but in daily life there is no
-substitute for the charm of simplicity. A vulgar taste is not to be
-disguised by gold and diamonds. The absence of a true taste and
-refinement of delicacy can not be compensated by the possession of the
-most princely trousseau. Mind measures gold, but gold can not measure
-mind. Those who think that in order to dress well it is necessary to
-dress extravagantly or gaudily make a great mistake. Elegance of dress
-does not depend upon expense. A lady might wear the costliest silks that
-Italy could produce, adorn herself with laces from Brussels which years
-of patient toil are required to fabricate; she might carry the jewels of
-an Eastern princess around her neck and upon her wrists and fingers, yet
-still in appearance be essentially vulgar. These are as nothing without
-grace, without adaptation, without an harmonious development of colors,
-without the exercise of discrimination and good taste.
-
-God has implanted in the minds of all, but especially in the female
-breast, the love of beauty, and one way that this feeling finds
-expression is in the matter of dress and personal adornment. We think
-that it is the duty of all to clothe themselves in that style of dress
-which most becomes them, provided that it does not conflict with
-hygienic rules, and is warranted by their circumstances. It is their
-duty, since when in choice personal adornment they have a dignity and
-sense of personal elevation which they do not experience when in uncouth
-attire. Pride, of course, often enters into fine dressing, and many
-women are fond of flaunting their fine feathers in people's eyes; but a
-great majority love handsome dressing in obedience to an instinct of
-refinement, in consequence of that sense of personal purity which
-accompanies the wearing of choice apparel.
-
-To advise a young lady to dress herself with any serious departure from
-the prevailing fashion of her day and class is to advise her to incur a
-penalty which may very probably be the wreck of her whole life's
-happiness. But it is only the fault of public opinion that any penalties
-at all follow innovations in themselves sensible and modest. To train
-this public opinion by degrees to bear with more variation of costume,
-and especially to insist upon the principle of fitness as the first
-requisite of beauty, should be the aim of all sensible women. Nothing
-can be in worse taste than for sensible women to wear clothes by which
-their natural movements are impeded, and their purposes, of whatever
-sort, thwarted by their habiliments.
-
-The styles of dress are so many and varied that it would be a vain, as
-well as useless, attempt to classify them. There is one principle
-running through all which every woman should carefully consider. Are
-your modes of dress in accordance with the rules of hygiene? This
-question you ought carefully to consider, ever remembering that nature
-will allow none of her laws to be violated in the name of fashion with
-impunity, and that every style of dress that does not conform to the
-plainest of nature's teaching should be frowned down upon by all
-sensible people.
-
-Dress, to be in perfect taste, need not be costly. It is to be regretted
-that in this age too much attention is paid to dress by those who have
-neither the excuse of ample means nor of social culture. The wife of a
-poorly paid clerk or of a young man just starting in business aims at
-dressing as stylishly as does the wealthiest among her acquaintances.
-Consistency in regard to station and fortune is the first matter to be
-considered. A woman of good sense will not wish to expend in unnecessary
-extravagance money wrung from an anxious husband; or, if her husband be
-a man of fortune, she will not even then encroach upon her allowance. In
-the early years of married life, when the income is moderate, it should
-be the pride of a woman to see how little she can spend upon her dress
-and yet present that tasteful and creditable appearance which is
-desirable.
-
-The dress of a gentleman never appears more creditable than when
-characterized by simplicity. A gentleman's taste in dress is shown in
-the avoidance of all extravagance. A man of wit may sometimes be a
-coxcomb, but a man of judgment and sense never can be. A beau dressed
-out is like a cinnamon tree—the bark is worth more than the body. A
-dandy is said to be the mercer's friend, the tailor's fool, and his own
-foe. There are a thousand fops made by art for one fool made by nature.
-
-To judge from the actions of many of our young men one would suppose
-that dress was their highest aim in life. Elegance of attire is, indeed,
-well, and, when suitable to the surroundings, bespeaks the gentleman.
-But men of sterling worth and character are apt to have a feeling of
-contempt for the one who, by his faultless attire and spruce manner,
-conclusively shows that he is actuated by a dandy's view of life. A coat
-that has the mark of use upon it is a recommendation to people of sense,
-and a hat with too much nap and too high a luster a derogatory
-circumstance. The best coats in our streets are worn on the backs of
-penniless fops, broken-down merchants, clerks with pitiful salaries, and
-men that do not pay up.
-
-Dandies and fops are like a body without soul, powder without ball,
-lightning without thunderbolt, paint on sand. There is much of this in
-the world. We see it exemplified in every thing considered valuable. The
-counterfeiter gives the show of gold to his base coin, and the show of
-value to his lying bank note. The thief hangs out the appearance of
-honesty in his face, and the liar is thunderstruck if any body suspects
-him of equivocation. The bankrupt carries about with him the appearance
-of wealth. The fop puts on the masquerade of dignity and importance. The
-poor belle, whose mother washes to buy her plumes, outshines the peeress
-of the court. Many a table steams with costly viands for which the last
-cent was paid; and many a coat, sleek and black, is worn on the street
-on which the tailor has a moral mortgage.
-
-In the matter of dress, then, when we sum it all up, we find that the
-love of dress is inherent in all true men and women, and that it would
-be as unwise as it would be useless to strive against it; that, while no
-man or woman should allow themselves to become a slave to dress and
-fashion, still it is no less a duty than it is a privilege to cultivate
-this love of adornment, ever keeping it within due bounds, remembering
-that outward adornment should be but secondary to the adornment of the
-soul with all noble and great qualities.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: GENTLENESS.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-We may admire proofs of hardiness and assurance, but we involuntarily
-attach ourselves to simplicity and gentleness. Gentleness is like the
-silent influence of light, which gives color to all nature. It is far
-more powerful than loudness or force, and far more beautiful. It pushes
-its way silently and persistently, like the tiniest daffodil in Spring,
-which raises the clod and thrusts it aside by the simple persistence of
-growing.
-
-It is to be feared that in this stirring age, when we enumerate the
-elements of success, that we do not lay stress enough on the milder
-virtues of simplicity and gentleness. While fond of applauding the
-hardier virtues of energy, self-reliance, perseverance, and others of a
-similar nature, we are in danger of losing sight of the fact that
-ofttimes an exhibition of gentleness and courtesy is not only extremely
-pleasing in itself, but is not infrequently one of the most expeditious
-and efficacious modes of advancing present interests.
-
-It is singular what power gentleness and courtesy bestows on him who
-practices them. The most boisterous winds only cause the traveler to
-wrap his cloak the closer to him, while the gentle rays of the sun
-speedily induce him to discard it. And thus it is with many of the
-pursuits of life, where sheer force of intellect or intensity of
-application would ofttimes end only in a failure of plans and purposes,
-gentleness, by its silent but powerful influence, will not only excite a
-feeling of good will in the minds of others, but as oil removes friction
-from a machine and causes it to move smoothly, so will gentleness remove
-apparently insurmountable objects from the pathway of our success.
-
-Gentleness belongs to virtue, and is to be carefully distinguished from
-the spirit of cowardice or the fawning assents of sycophants. It removes
-no just right from fear; it gives no important truth to flattery; it is,
-indeed, not only consistent with a firm mind, but it necessarily
-requires a manly spirit and a fixed principle in order to give it any
-real value. An able man shows his spirit by gentle words but resolute
-actions. How often experience convinces us that a bold and brazen
-loudness of tones and roughness of manner cover only a vacillating
-spirit and irresolute actions! And on the other hand, do not history and
-observation show that quietness and gentleness ofttimes mark the most
-determined of actions? The rarest bravery of all in the world is found
-actively engaged accompanied by an exhibition of gentleness. And ought
-we not so to expect it? The person moved by a spirit of gentleness
-throws all the energy of his nature into action. It is not allowed to
-waste in boisterousness, but is guided and directed in the most
-appropriate channels by an understanding calm and collected.
-
-In the captain of a canal-boat we generally expect gruffness of manner,
-loudness of tones, and a general lack of refinement, dignity, and
-gentleness; but in the commander of an ocean steamer we shall always
-find the quietness, gentleness, and dignity that we all recognize as
-such a proper accompaniment of power. So true it is that gentleness of
-manner is the most appropriate and general expression of true greatness
-and worth that we use the expression "a gentle man" to express the
-highest type of worth in man.
-
-In the mechanical world do we not always find that the greater the
-exhibition of power the steadier and quieter the movement becomes? It is
-the rickety engine of but few horse-powers that goes with a fizz and a
-clatter, while the massive engine that supplies the motive power for
-acres of machinery goes almost noiselessly; and the sublimest exhibition
-of power in the universe—the movement of the heavenly bodies—proceeds
-in absolute quiet. We observe the same effect in the moral world; the
-master minds who have moved kingdoms and swayed the thoughts of millions
-are uniformly gentle and dignified in their bearings. The loud-tongued
-and clatter-brained fanatics merely cause a movement in their immediate
-vicinity.
-
-There is a magic power in gentle words, the potency of which but few
-natures are so icy as to wholly resist. Would you have your home a
-cheerful, hallowed spot, within which may be found that happiness and
-peace which the world denies to its votaries? Let not loud, harsh words
-be uttered within its walls. Let only gentle, quiet actions there be
-found. Speak gently to the wearied husband, who, with anxious brow,
-returns from the perplexities of his daily avocations; and let him, in
-his turn, speak gently to the care-worn woman and wife, who, amid her
-never-ending round of little duties, finds rest and encouragement in the
-sympathy of him she loves. Speak gently to the wayward child. A pleasant
-smile and a word of kindness will often restore good humor and
-playfulness. Human nature is the same with it. It has its joys and
-sorrows as well as those of mature growth, and its little heart will
-quickly yield to the power of gentle, loving kindness.
-
-Hearts of children are, after all, much like flowers; they remain open
-to the softly falling dew, but shut up in the violent downfalls of rain.
-Therefore, when you have occasion to rebuke children, be careful to do
-it with manifest kindness and gentleness. The effect will be
-incalculably better. Speak gently to the dependent who lightens your
-daily toil; kind words insure respect and affection, while the angry
-rebuke provokes impertinence and dislike. Speak gently to the aged ones;
-many are the trials through which they have passed, and now, in a little
-while, they will be missed from their accustomed places—the spirit will
-have passed to its rest. The remembrance of an unkind word will then
-bring with it a bitter sting. Speak gently to the erring one; are we not
-all weak and liable to err? Temptation, of which we can not judge, may
-have surrounded him. Harshness will drive him on the sinful way;
-gentleness may win him back to virtue.
-
-True gentleness is founded on a sense of what we owe to Him who made us,
-and to the common nature of which we all share. It arises from
-reflection on our own failings and wants, and from just views of the
-condition and duty of man. It is native feelings, heightened and
-improved by principle. It is not deficient in a sense of true worth and
-dignity, but it recognizes in all men the possessors of infinite
-possibilities, even the possibilities of eternal life; and it treats
-them as brethren. It summons to its highest and best form of expression
-all that is noble in manhood, inspiring in purpose, grand in aim, and
-walks proudly therein; humbly, yet with an air of conscious dignity;
-quietly, yet with the insignia of power.
-
-Since, then, true gentleness is thus significant of power, thus
-potential for good, and is the high and distinctive test of a gentleman,
-ought not all the young earnestly strive to learn that spirit of
-self-control, and accustom themselves to speak and act gently at all
-times, and, by so doing, to act as becomes a man and responsible being?
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: MODESTY.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-It has been remarked that the modest deportment of really wise men, when
-contrasted to the assuming air of the vain and ignorant, may be compared
-to the difference of wheat, which, while its ear is empty, holds up its
-head proudly, but as soon as it is filled with grain bends modestly down
-and withdraws from observation. Thus with true worth and merit: it is
-uniformly modest in deportment. It is only the shallow-pated who strive
-to attract attention by pretentious claims. The ocean depths are mute;
-it is only along shallow shores that the roar of the breakers is heard.
-
-It is not difficult to draw the line between self-reliance and modesty
-on the one hand, and self-esteem and arrogant pretensions on the other.
-True self-reliance does not call on all men to witness its exploits. It
-displays itself in action. It may be reserved in deportment, but quietly
-and modestly proceeds in the path that wisdom points out, with a steady
-reliance on its own powers. Not so self-esteem. Its boast is that it is
-sufficient for all things; which, to be sure, were not so bad, were it
-not for the fact that, when put to the test by necessity, it so quickly
-abandons its pretentious claims, and, forgetting to use its own powers,
-is anxious only for the aid of others.
-
-Modesty is a beautiful setting to the diamond of talents and genius. The
-mark of the truly successful man is absence of pretensions. He talks in
-only ordinary business style, avoids all brag, dresses plainly, promises
-not at all, performs much, speaks monosyllables, hugs his fact. He calls
-his employment by its lowest name, and so takes from evil tongues their
-sharpest weapon. Who made more wide and sweeping discoveries, of more
-far-reaching consequences, than Newton? Yet listen to his modest
-confession: "I know not what the world may think of my labors, but to
-myself it seems as though I had been but a child playing on the
-seashore, now finding some pebble rather more polished, and now some
-shell rather more agreeably variegated than another, while the immense
-ocean of truth extended itself unexplored before me." Thus it is always
-found that modesty accompanies great merit, and it has even been said
-that merit without modesty is generally insolent in expression.
-
-The greatest events in the world's history dawned with no more noise
-than the morning star makes in rising. All great developments complete
-themselves in the world, and modestly wait in silence, praising
-themselves never, and announcing themselves not at all. If "honesty be
-the best policy," we can not deny that modesty, as a matter of policy
-even, hath a rare virtue. What so quickly commands our good wishes as
-modesty struggling under discouragement? what our sympathy more than
-modesty struck down by affliction? or what our respect and love more
-than modesty ministering to the distresses of others? There is no surer
-passport to the favors of others than modesty of deportment. It will
-succeed where all else has failed to waken in the minds of others an
-interest in our affairs. It is to merit as shades to figures in a
-picture, giving it strength and beauty.
-
-Modesty is not bashfulness, though the two are often confounded. The
-bashfulness of timidity is constitutional, the bashfulness of credulity
-is pitiable, the bashfulness of ignorance is disreputable, but the
-bashfulness allied to modesty is a charm. There are two distinct sorts
-of bashfulness. The one is awkwardness joined to pride, which, on a
-further acquaintance with the world, will be converted into the pertness
-of a coxcomb. The other is closely allied to modesty. It is a painful
-consciousness of self, which is produced by our most delicate feelings,
-and which the most extensive knowledge can not always remove. In
-undermining and removing bashfulness, due regard is to be had to the
-adjacent modesty, good nature, and humanity, as those who pull down
-private houses adjoining imposing buildings are careful to prop up such
-parts as are endangered by the removal.
-
-Bashfulness in itself can not be admired. It completely distrusts its
-own powers, whereas we have seen that a proper reliance on self is at
-all times highly commendable. Bashfulness in man is never to be allowed
-as a good quality, but a weakness, inasmuch as it suppresses his virtues
-and hides them from the world, when, had he a mind to exert himself, he
-might accomplish much good. We doubt not but there are many fine
-intellects passing for naught by reason of their bashfulness.
-
-Modesty is far different from reserve. Reserve partakes more of the
-nature of sullen pride. It is haughty in demeanor, and hath not the
-sweet, retiring disposition of modesty. A reserved man is in continual
-conflict with the social part of his nature, and even grudges himself
-the laugh into which he is sometimes betrayed. The modest man does not
-refuse to perform his part socially. His only dread is that others may
-think he is trying to center attention on himself. The really modest man
-may be the most social of men. The reserved man thinks it is beneath him
-to mingle with the mass of the people.
-
-Modesty never counsels real merit to conceal itself. It never bids one
-refuse to act when action is necessary, and the person is conscious that
-his powers are adequate for the performance of the task. Nor when a good
-deed is to be done should the modest man hesitate to come forward to do
-it, providing he is capable of so doing. Modesty counsels none to be
-backwards where duty points the way; but modesty strictly forbids that
-when a good or meritorious action is done that the performer should
-spread abroad the story of his doings. Leave that for others to do.
-
-Modesty is the crowning ornament of womanly beauty, and the honor of
-manly powers. It alike becomes every age, giving new grace to youthful
-figures, and imparting a pleasing virtue to years. It softens the
-asperities of poverty and is a beautiful setting for wealth and fortune.
-It gives additional charms to the possessor of genius and talents, or
-cunningly conceals the want of the same. It is the key that unlocks
-alike the gate to success or the door of love and respect. It makes life
-pleasant to the one who exercises the virtue, and charities bestowed by
-its hand are worth far more to the recipient than their mere pecuniary
-value.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: LOVE.]
-
- "Life without love! Oh, it would be
- A world without a sun—
- Cold as the snow-capped mountain, dark
- As myriad nights in one;
- A barren scene, without one spot
- Amidst the waste,
- Without one blossom of delight,
- Of feeling, or of taste!"
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Love in one form or another is the ruling element in life. It is the
-primary source from whence springs all that possesses any real value to
-man. It may be the love of dominion or power which, though utterly
-selfish in its aims and methods, has been most marvelously overruled for
-good in the world's history. It may be the love of knowledge, in the
-pursuit of which lives have been lost and fortunes spent; but grand
-secrets have been wrung from nature—secrets which have contributed much
-for the advancement of human interests. But the love grander than any
-other, before which all the other elements of civilization pale and
-dwarf to utter insignificance, which is as powerful to-day as in the
-morning of time, which will continue to rule until time is ended, is
-that indefinable, indescribable, ever fresh and beautiful love betwixt
-man and woman—that love which has the power to tame the savage's heart;
-which finds man rough, uncultivated, and selfish; which leaves him a
-refined and courteous gentleman; which transforms the timid, bashful
-girl to the woman of matchless power for good.
-
-Love is an actual need, an urgent requirement of the heart. Every
-properly constituted human being who entertains an appreciation of
-loneliness and wretchedness, and looks forward to happiness and content,
-feels a necessity of loving. Without it life is unfinished and hope is
-without aim, nature is defective and man miserable; nor does he come to
-comprehend the end and glory of existence until he has experienced the
-fullness of a love that actualizes all indefinite cravings and
-expectations. Love is the great instrument of nature, the bond and
-cement of society, the spirit and spring of the universe. It is such an
-affection as can not so properly be said to be in the soul as the soul
-to be in that. It is the whole nature wrapped up in one desire. Love is
-the sun of life, most beautiful in the morning and evening, but warmest
-and steadiest at noon.
-
-Love blends young hearts in blissful unity, and for the time so ignores
-past ties and affections as to make a willing separation of the son from
-his father's house, and the daughter from all the sweet endearments of
-her childhood's home, to go out together and rear for themselves an
-altar, around which shall cluster all the cares and delights, the
-anxieties and sympathies of the family relationship. This love, if pure,
-unselfish, and discreet, constitutes the chief usefulness and happiness
-of human life. Without it there would be no organized households, and,
-consequently, none of that earnest endeavor for a competence and
-respectability, which is the mainspring to human efforts, none of those
-sweet, softening, restraining, and elevating influences of domestic
-life, which can alone fill the earth with the happy influences of
-refinement.
-
-Love, it has been said, in the common acceptance of the term is folly;
-but love in its purity, its loftiness, its unselfishness is not only a
-consequence, but a proof of our moral excellence. The sensibility to
-moral beauty, the forgetfulness of self in the admiration engendered by
-it, all prove its claim to a high moral influence. It is the triumph of
-the unselfish over the selfish part of our nature. No man and no woman
-can be regarded as complete in their experience of life until they have
-been subdued into union with the world through their affections. As
-woman is not woman until she has known love, neither is man a complete
-man. Both are requisite to each other's completeness.
-
-Love is the weapon which Omnipotence reserved to conquer rebel man when
-all the rest had failed. Reason he parries; fear he answers blow to
-blow; future interests he meets with present pleasure; but love, that
-sun against whose melting beams Winter can not stand, that soft,
-subduing slumber which brings down the giant, there is not one human
-soul in a million, not a thousand men in all earth's domain whose
-earthly hearts are hardened against love. There needs no other proof
-that happiness is the most wholesome moral atmosphere, and that in which
-the morality of man is destined ultimately to thrive, than the elevation
-of soul, the religious aspirations which attend the first assurance, the
-first sober certainty of true love.
-
-Love is the perpetual melody of humanity. It sheds its effulgence upon
-youth, and throws a halo around age. It glorifies the present by the
-light it casts backward, and it lightens the future by the gleams sent
-forward. The love which is the outcome of esteem has the most elevating
-and purifying effect on the character. It tends to emancipate one from
-the slavery of self. It is altogether unsordid; itself is the only
-price. It inspires gentleness, sympathy, mutual faith, and confidence.
-True love also in a manner elevates the intellect. "All love renders
-wise in a degree," says the poet Browning, and the most gifted minds
-have been the truest lovers. Great souls make all affections great; they
-elevate and consecrate all true delights. Love even brings to light
-qualities before lying dormant and unsuspected. It elevates the
-aspirations, expands the soul, and stimulates the mental powers.
-
-It were fitting that the nature of this affection, which has such power
-for good or ill, be thoroughly understood, and endeavors made to guide
-it in right channels. For love, as it is of the first enjoyment, so it
-is frequently of the deepest distress. If it is placed upon an unworthy
-object, and the discovery is made too late, the heart can never know
-peace. Every hour increases the torments of reflection, and hope, that
-soothes the severest ills, is here turned into deep despair. But,
-strange to say, though it is one of universal and engrossing interest to
-humanity, the moralist avoids it, the educator shuns it, and parents
-taboo it. It is considered almost indelicate to refer to love as between
-the sexes, and young persons are left to gather their only notions of it
-from the impossible love stories that fill the shelves of circulating
-libraries. This strong and absorbing feeling, which nature has for wise
-purposes made so strong in woman that it colors her whole life and
-history, though it may form but an episode in the life of man, is
-usually left to follow its own inclination, and to grow up for the most
-part unchecked, without any guidance or direction whatever.
-
-Although nature spurns all formal rules and directions in affairs of
-love; though love triumphs over reason, resists all persuasion, and
-scorns every dictate of philosophy; and though, like a fabled tree or
-plant, it may be cut down at night, but ere morning it will be found to
-have sprouted up again in renewed freshness and beauty, with its leaves
-and branches re-expanded to the air and laden with blossoms and fruits;
-still, at all events, it were best to instill in young minds such views
-of character as should enable them to discriminate between the true and
-the false, and to accustom them to hold in esteem those qualities of
-moral purity and integrity without which life is but a scene of folly
-and misery. It may not be possible to teach young people to love wisely,
-but they may at least be guarded by parental advice against the
-frivolous and despicable passions which so often usurp its name.
-
-Genuine love is founded on esteem and respect. You can not long love one
-for whom you have not these feelings. The most beautiful may be the most
-admired and caressed, but they are not always the most esteemed and
-loved. We discover great beauty in those who are not beautiful, if they
-possess genuine truthfulness, simplicity, and sincerity. No deformity is
-present where vanity and affectation is absent, and we are unconscious
-of the want of charms in those who have the power of fascinating us by
-something more real and permanent than external attractions and
-transitory shows.
-
-Remember that love is dependent upon forms; courtesy of etiquette must
-guard and protect courtesy of heart. How many hearts have been lost
-irrecoverably and how many averted eyes and cold looks have been gained
-from what seemed, perhaps, but a trifling negligence of forms. Love is a
-tender plant and can not bear cold neglect. It requires kind acts and
-thoughtful attentions, one to the other, and thrives at its best only
-when surrounded by an atmosphere of disinterested courtesy.
-
-The love of woman is a stronger power and a sweeter thing than that of
-man. Men and women can not be judged by the same rules. There are many
-radical differences in their affectional natures. Man is the creature of
-interest and ambition. His nature leads him forth into the struggle and
-bustle of the great world. Love is but the embellishment of his early
-life, or a song piped in the interval of the acts. He seeks for fame,
-for fortune, for space in the world's thoughts, and dominion over his
-fellow-men. But a woman's whole life is a history of the affections. The
-heart is her world; it is there her ambition strives for empire; it is
-there her nature seeks for love and kindness. She sends forth her
-sympathies on adventure; she embarks her whole soul in the traffic of
-affection, and if shipwrecked her case is hopeless, for it is the
-bankruptcy of a heart.
-
-Woman's love is stronger than man's because she sacrifices more. For
-every woman is with the food of the heart as with the food of her body;
-it is possible to exist on a very small quantity, but this small
-quantity is an absolute necessity. The love of a pure, true woman has
-brightened some of the darkest scenes in the world's history. It
-inspires them with courage and incites them to actions utterly foreign
-to their shrinking dispositions. Who can estimate the value of a woman's
-affections? Gold can not purchase a gem so precious. In our most
-cheerless moments, when disappointments and care crowd round the heart,
-and even the gaunt form of poverty menaces with his skeleton fingers, it
-gleams round the soul like sunlight in dark places. It follows the
-prisoner into the gloomy cell, and in the silence of midnight it plays
-around his heart, and in his dreams he folds to his bosom the form of
-her who loves him still, though the world has turned coldly from him.
-
-Love purifies the heart from self; it strengthens and ennobles the
-character, gives higher motives and a nobler aim to every action of
-life, and makes both man and woman strong, noble, and courageous; and
-the power to love truly and devotedly is the noblest gift with which a
-human being can be endowed, but it is a sacred fire and not to be burned
-before idols. Disinterested love is beautiful and noble. How high will
-it not rise! How many injuries will it not forgive! What obstacles will
-it not overcome, and what sacrifices will it not make rather than give
-up the being upon which it has been once wholly and truthfully fixed!
-
-It is difficult to know at what moment love begins; it is less difficult
-to know it has begun. A thousand messengers betray it to the eye. Tone,
-act, attitude, and look, the signals upon the countenance, the electric
-telegraph of touch, all betray the yielding citadel. And there is
-nothing holier in this life of ours than the first consciousness of
-love, the first fluttering of its silken wings, the first rising sound
-of that wind which is so soon to sweep through the soul to purify or to
-destroy. Love is thus a power, potent for good, but, debased and
-corrupted, is as potent for evil. If it brings joys it may also conduce
-to exquisite anguish. A disappointment in love is more hard to get over
-than any other; the passion itself so softens and subdues the heart that
-it disables it from struggling or bearing up against the woes and
-distresses which befall it. The mind meets with other misfortune in her
-whole strength; she stands collected within herself and sustains the
-shock with all the force which is natural to her. But a heart crossed in
-love has its foundation sapped, and immediately sinks under the weight
-of accidents that are disagreeable to its favorite passion.
-
-When time brings us to the resting-places of life—and we all expect
-them, and, in some measure, attain them—when we pause to consider its
-ways and to study its import, we then look back over the waste ground
-which we have left behind us. Is a bright spot to be seen there? It is
-where the star of love has shed its beams. Is there a plant, a flower,
-or any beautiful thing visible? It is where the smiles and tears of
-affection have been spent—where some fond eye met our own, some
-endearing heart was clasped to ours. Take these away and what joy has
-memory in retrospection, or what delight has hope in future prospects?
-The bosom which does not feel love is cold; the mind which does not
-conceive it is dull; the philosophy which does not accept it is false;
-and the only true religion in the world has pure, reciprocal, and
-undying love for its basis. The loves that make memory happy and home
-beautiful are those which form the sunlight of our earlier years; they
-beam gratefully along the pathway of our mature years, and their
-radiance lingers till the shadows of death darken them all together.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: COURTSHIP.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-There is an unfortunate tendency in human nature to treat with levity
-many questions most vitally affecting man's real happiness. Thus in the
-questions of love, courtship, and marriage—questions than which none
-could be more important—it is to be deeply regretted that men and women
-do not more carefully consider the wisdom of their course, do not
-reflect whether they are guided by the light of calm, sober sense or are
-leaving things to impulse.
-
-It has been wisely but sadly said that years are necessary to cement a
-friendship; but months, and sometimes weeks, and even days, are
-sufficient to prepare for that holier state of matrimony. From false
-regard to public opinion, or as a matter of convenience, or for the mere
-purpose of securing a home and being settled in life, thousands enter
-into the most sacred of human relationships with no such feelings as
-will enable them to bear the burdens which it brings.
-
- [Illustration: Engraved & Printed by Illman Brothers.
- THE VOW.]
-
-Love and courtship should be to wedded love what a blossom is to the
-perfected fruit. The power of this love must be measured, not by its
-intensity, but by its effects—by its beneficence in bringing into play
-a higher range of motives, by the facilities it unfolds, by its skill in
-harmonizing different natures. Not once in a hundred times do two
-natures brought side by side harmonize in every part. Of nothing are
-people more ignorant than of human nature. Very rich and fruitful
-natures are often side by side with very barren ones; noble ones, with
-those that are sordid; exquisitely sensitive, with those coarse and
-rude. This is a consequence to be foreseen from the want of thought
-evinced by people when about to marry.
-
-Many counsel the young not to expect too much from love. That is an evil
-philosophy, however, which advises to moderation by undervaluing the
-possibilities of a true and glorious love. Happiness in this life
-depends more upon the capacity of loving than on any other single
-quality. If men lose all the treasures of love, it does not prove that
-the treasure is not to be found, but that they have not sought aright.
-In love there are many apartments; but not to selfishness, sensuality,
-or arrogance will love yield its richest treasures. True love is social
-regeneration. It is a revolution ending with a new king, and a
-reconstruction of the soul.
-
-The way of selfishness is self-seeking; that of love, self-sacrifice. It
-is this self-sacrificing spirit of love that can alone perpetuate its
-influence and establish its worth and blessedness. True wisdom, then,
-will say to the young, Love, but love not blindly. Justice is
-represented as blind, in order that, under no circumstances, can she
-swerve one hair's-breadth from the right, from personal favor or
-prejudice; but Love, on the contrary, should use his eyes to the fullest
-extent, in order that, in days of courtship, no stumbling-block may be
-left to become a torment after marriage.
-
-A moment's consideration will show how utterly repugnant it is to all
-manly feelings to jest in this matter. It is one of the most serious
-concerns of life. Your weal or woe and the weal or woe of those who
-shall come after you, and the influence you shall exert upon the world,
-depend, in a great measure, upon the wisdom and virtue with which you
-conduct your preparation for marriage. All true minds see the manifest
-impropriety of jesting about the most delicate, serious, and sacred
-relation and feeling of human experience. The whole tendency of such
-lightness is to cause the marriage relation to be lightly esteemed and
-the true aim of courtship to be lost sight of. Until it is viewed in its
-true light, with that sober earnestness which the subject demands,
-courtship will be nothing else than a grand game of hypocrisy, resulting
-in misery the most deplorable.
-
-Courtships are sweet and dreamy thresholds of unseen temples, where half
-the world has paused in couples, talked in whispers under the moonlight,
-passed on, but never returned. It should be to all but the entrance to
-scenes of happiness and content. But, alas! in the history of many we
-know that such is not the case. We have been but poor observers if we
-fail to recognize that marriage is not necessarily a blessing. It may be
-the bitterest curse; it may sting like an adder and bite like a serpent.
-Its bower is as often made of thorns as of roses. It blasts as many
-sunny expectations as it realizes, and an illy mated human pair is the
-most woeful picture of wretchedness that is presented in the book of
-life; and yet such pictures are plenty.
-
-It becomes all young men and women, who are standing where the radiant
-beams of love are just beginning to gild the pathway before them, to
-endeavor to ascertain, with the aid of others' experience, with calm and
-careful consideration, with an appeal for guidance from on high, whether
-the person he or she proposes to unite their destiny to is the one with
-whom, of all the world, they are best adapted to make the journey. If,
-as the result of such reflection, they are convinced that the choice is
-wise, they may with confidence proceed to take upon themselves the
-duties and privileges of the marriage relation. But if such observation
-shows that they have heretofore erred, as they value their future
-happiness and the happiness of others, let them stop before the vow is
-said that indissolubly unites their fate with another's.
-
-Marriage should be made a study. Every youth, both male and female,
-should so consider it. It is the grand social institution of humanity.
-Its laws and relations are of momentous importance to the race. Should
-it be entered blindly, in total ignorance of what it is, what its
-conditions of happiness are? The object of courtship is not to woo; it
-is not to charm, gratify, or please, simply for the present pleasure. It
-is simply for the selection of a life companion—one who must bear,
-suffer, and enjoy life with us in all of its forms; in its frowns as
-well as smiles, joys, and sorrows—one who will walk pleasantly,
-willingly, and confidingly by our side through all the intricate and
-changing vicissitudes incident to mortal life.
-
-What is to be sought is a companion, a congenial spirit, one possessed
-of an interior constitution of soul similar to our own, of similar age,
-opinions, tastes, habits, modes of thought and feeling. A congenial
-spirit is one who, under any given combination of circumstances, would
-be affected, feel, and act as we ourselves would; it is one who would
-approve what we approve and condemn what we condemn, not for the purpose
-of agreeing with us, but of his or her own free will. This is a
-companion who is already united to us by the ties of spiritual harmony,
-which union it is the object of courtship to discover.
-
-Courtship, then, is a voyage of discovery or a court of inquiry,
-established by mutual consent of the parties, to see wherein and to what
-extent there is a harmony existing. If in all these they honestly and
-harmoniously agree, and find a deep and thrilling pleasure in their
-agreement, find their union of sentiment to give a charm to their social
-intercourse; if now they feel that their hearts are bound as well as
-their sentiments in a holy unity, and that for each other they would
-live and labor and make every personal sacrifice with gladness, and that
-without each other they know not how to live, it is their privilege,
-yes, their _duty_ to form a matrimonial alliance.
-
-The true companion has to be sought for. She does not parade herself as
-store goods. She is not fashionable. Generally she is not rich. But, oh!
-what a heart she has when you find her—so large and pure and womanly.
-When you see it you wonder if those showy things outside were really
-women. Courtship is the brilliant scene in the maiden life of a woman.
-It is to her a garden where no weeds mingle with the flowers, but all is
-lovely and beautiful to the sense. It is a dish of nightingales served
-up by moonlight to the mingled music of many tendernesses and gentle
-whisperings and eagerness, that does not outstep the bounds of delicacy.
-
-Courtship is the first turning point in the life of a woman, crowded
-with perils and temptation. The rose tints of affection dazzle and
-bewilder the imagination, and while always bearing in mind that life
-without love is a wilderness, it should not be overlooked that true
-affection requires solid support. Discretion tempers passion, and it is
-precisely this quality which oftener than any other is found to be
-absent in courtship. Young persons require wise counselors. They should
-not trust too much to the impulse of the heart, nor be too easily
-captivated by a winning exterior.
-
-In the selection of a wife a pure, loving heart and good common sense
-are many times more valuable than personal beauty or wealth. Once
-installed in the affections of such a lady, you have a life claim on her
-good offices. No sacrifice she can make is too great, no adversity so
-stern that it can shake her firmness or hopefulness. Such a woman is a
-helpmeet as the Creator designed a wife to be. It is an error, which has
-proved fatal to many young lives, to marry one whom you consider your
-inferior in mind or body. A wife has the power to make or destroy the
-home, and a weak heart and shallow brain can never have the former
-effect.
-
-There can be no such a thing as interchange of sentiment where she does
-not appreciate your highest thoughts. Can you reveal to her the sacred
-treasures of mind, which lie hidden from the careless gaze of others,
-and be assured of her sympathy? Can she walk hand in hand with you as
-her equal, honored above all women? Is she fit to sit in your household
-as a shining light, respected for her gentle dignity and the wisdom of
-her management and conversation? The quiet, reserved girl does not
-always possess these qualifications; neither does the bright, gay
-creature, whose presence throws a halo over her surroundings. The poor
-are no more likely to have the proper gifts and trainings than those who
-never knew a wish ungratified. But any woman of noble principles, a warm
-heart, and good common sense to guide her can easily reach the standard.
-
-There is equal danger before the young lady in her choice of a husband.
-Young men inclined to intemperate habits, even but slightly so, as they
-have not sufficient moral stamina to enable them to resist temptation
-even in its incipient stages, and are consequently deficient in
-self-respect, can not possess that pure, uncontaminated feeling which
-alone capacitates a man for rightly appreciating the tender and loving
-nature of a true woman.
-
-It is equally fatal for a woman to marry a man who is her inferior. She
-of necessity descends to his level. Being his superior in every good
-sense of the word, she can not have for him that high feeling of regard
-which every wife should have for her husband. Lacking that, love too
-soon fades away, and only the duties of married life remain; its
-pleasures are all gone. What is wanted in both is a true companion; not
-one who possesses wealth, not necessarily the possessor of a scholastic
-education, but one who has a pure, warm heart and good common sense.
-
-A true courtship is with all a beautiful sight. Only the coarse and
-illiterate can there see aught for ridicule or unseemly jest. It is the
-flowing together of two separate lives that have heretofore been
-divided, now mysteriously brought together to flow on through all time,
-and only God in his infinite wisdom knows how far in the shadowy
-hereafter.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: MARRIAGE.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-The marriage ceremony is one of the most interesting and solemn
-spectacles that social life presents. To see two rational creatures, in
-the glow of youth and hope which invests life in a halo of happiness,
-appear together and acknowledge their preference for each other,
-voluntarily enter into a league of perpetual friendship and amity, and
-call on all to witness the sanctity of their vows, awakens deep feeling
-in the hearts of all beholders. A holy influence is felt to pervade the
-place; the spirit of the hour is sacramental.
-
-Though mirth may abound before and after the irrevocable formula is
-spoken, yet at that particular point of time there is a shadow on the
-most laughing lip, a moisture in the firmest eye; and it may well be so.
-To think of the endearing relations, and the important consequences
-which are to flow from it as the couple walk side by side through life,
-participating in the same joys and sharing the same sorrows, two weak,
-frail human natures thus taking upon themselves, in the sight of God and
-man, the weighty duties of a new and untried state of existence, exerts
-a solemn influence on all.
-
-All pictures of human happiness represent sorrow in the background. Thus
-the wedding ceremony. True, it is considered an occasion of great joy;
-but there remains the thought, the smile that kindles to ecstasy at
-their union will at last be quenched in the tears of the survivor. Man
-may unite, but death only separates. If from this proceed some of the
-deepest joys of life, from hence also come not unfrequently the deepest
-sorrows.
-
-There is no one thing more lovely in this life, more full of the
-divinest courage, than when a young maiden—from her past life; from her
-happy childhood, when she rambled over every field and moor around her
-home; when a mother anticipated her wants and soothed her little cares;
-when brothers and sisters grew from merry playmates to loving, trustful
-friends; from the Christmas gatherings and romps, the festival in bower
-or garden; from the rooms sanctified by the death of relatives; from the
-holy and secure background of her early life—looks out into a dark and
-unknown future, away from all that, and yet unterrified, undaunted,
-undertakes the journey, with a trusting confidence in the one beside
-her. Buoyed up with the confidence of requited love, she bids a fond and
-grateful adieu to the life that is passed, she turns with excited hopes
-and joyful anticipations of happiness to what is to come.
-
-Then woe to the man who can blast such hopes, who can break the
-illusions that have won her, and destroy the confidence which his love
-inspired! Marriage offers the most effective opportunity for spoiling
-the life of another. Nobody can debase, harass, and ruin a woman as her
-own husband, and nobody can do a tithe as much to chill a man's
-aspiration for good, to paralyze his energies, as his wife; and a man is
-never irretrievably ruined in his prospects till he marries a bad woman.
-Perhaps there is no hour in the life of a man or woman more potential
-for weal or woe than the marriage hour. That is the hour from whence
-most men can date their success or failure; for while nothing is a
-greater incentive to a man to put forth all his exertions than for the
-sake of his wife, and while her society is the place where he forgets
-the cares of the world, and in its quiet rest finds new courage to take
-up life's load, yet has a wife equal power for ill.
-
-Be a man ever so ambitious, energetic, or industrious, yet with a
-careless or spendthrift wife his best efforts for success are vain. And
-nothing will sooner discourage a man than a wife too ignorant or too
-careless to understand, appreciate, and sympathize with his efforts. And
-for the woman, too, it is at once the happiest and saddest hour of her
-life. It is the promise of future bliss, raised on the death of all
-present enjoyment. She quits her home, her parents, her companions, her
-occupation, her amusements, her every thing upon which she has hitherto
-depended for comfort, for affection, for kindness, for pleasure.
-
-With the marriage ceremony she enters a new world; but it is with her a
-world from whence she can not return. If the man of her choice be an
-upright, pure man, with manly traits of character, industrious and
-honest, in the majority of cases she is to blame if it be not to her a
-world of happiness. But if she has erred, and she finds herself bound
-for life with one inferior to her, or who is enslaved to habit or
-temper, or destitute of manly attributes, God help her! Her future is
-full of misery.
-
-A man's moral character is necessarily powerfully influenced by his
-wife. A lower nature will drag him down, as a higher one will lift him
-up. The former will deaden his sympathies, dissipate his energies, and
-distort his life, while the latter, by satisfying his affections, will
-strengthen his moral nature, and, by giving him repose, tend to energize
-his intellect. Not only so, but a woman of high principle will
-insensibly elevate the aim and purpose of her husband, as one of low
-principles will unconsciously degrade them. In the course of life we may
-see even a weak man display real public virtue, because he had by his
-side a woman of noble character, who sustained him in his career, and
-exercised a fortifying influence on his views of public duty; while, on
-the contrary, all have often witnessed men of grand and generous
-instincts transformed into vulgar self-seekers by contact with women of
-narrow natures, devoted to an imbecile love of pleasure, and from whose
-minds the grand motive of duty was altogether absent. As wives may
-exercise a great moral influence upon their husbands, so, on the other
-hand, there are few men strong enough to resist the influence of a lower
-character in a wife. If she does not sustain and elevate what is highest
-in his nature, she will speedily reduce him to her own level. Thus a
-wife may be the making or unmaking of the best of men.
-
-It is by the regimen of the domestic affections that the heart of man is
-best composed and regulated. The home is the woman's kingdom, her state,
-her world where she governs by affection, by kindness, by the power of
-gentleness. There is nothing which so settles the turbulence of a man's
-nature as his union in life with a high-minded woman. There he finds
-rest, contentment, and happiness—rest of brain and peace of spirit. He
-will also often find in her his best counselor; for her instinctive tact
-will usually lead him right, where his own unaided reason might be apt
-to go wrong.
-
-The true wife is a staff to lean upon in times of trial and difficulty,
-and she is never wanting in sympathy and solace when distress occurs or
-fortune frowns. In the time of youth she is a comfort and an ornament of
-man's life, and she remains a faithful helpmate in maturer years, when
-life has ceased to be in anticipation, and we live in its realities. Of
-all the institutions that effect human weal or woe on earth none is more
-important than marriage. It is the foundation of the great social
-fabric, and conceals within its mystic relations the coiled secrets of
-the largest proportion of happiness and misery connected with the lot of
-man.
-
-Marriage, to be a blessing, must be properly entered. It has its
-fundamental laws, which must be obeyed. It is not a mysterious,
-wonder-working institution of the Almighty, which can not be studied by
-the common mind, but a simple necessity laid in man's social nature,
-which may be read and understood of all men who will investigate that
-nature. The reasons for every enjoyment of the matrimonial life may be
-understood before entering upon its relations. The conditions upon which
-its joys and advantages are realized may be learned beforehand. It
-should not be entered in blindness, but rather in the daylight of a
-perfect knowledge of its rules and regulations, its promises and
-conditions, its laws and privileges, so that no uncertainty shall attend
-its realization, no unhappy revealments shall follow a knowledge of its
-reality.
-
-Marriage, then, should be made a study. Every youth, both male and
-female, should so consider it. It is the grand social institution of
-humanity. Its laws and relations are of momentous importance to the
-race. Shall it be entered blindly, in total ignorance of what it is,
-what its conditions of happiness are? Its relations involve some of the
-most stern duties and acts of self-denial that men are called upon to
-perform. Shall youth enter upon its relations without a knowledge of
-these duties? For all the professions, trades, and callings in life men
-and women prepare themselves by previous attention to their principles
-and duties. They study them,—devote time and money to them. Every
-imaginable case of difficulty or trial is considered and duly disposed
-of according to the general principles of the trade or profession. But
-marriage—incomparably the most important and holy relation of life,
-involving the most sacred responsibilities and influences, social,
-civil, and religious, that bear upon men—is entered upon in hot haste
-or blind stupidity, by a great majority of youth.
-
-No young man has any right to ask a young woman to enter the matrimonial
-bonds with him till he is thoroughly acquainted with the female
-constitution and character. Woman loves the strong, the resolute, and
-the vigorous in man. To these qualities she looks for protection. Under
-the shadow of their wings she feels secure. But she wants them blended
-with the tender, the sensitive, and the lofty in sentiment. Her
-companionship, her joy, she finds in these sentiments. Where she finds
-these she pours the full tides of her loving soul, and willingly enters
-the bower of conjugal felicity. He who knows not her nature knows not
-how to gratify and satisfy that nature. So woman should know the nature
-of man. The rough world often makes him appear what he is not. He has a
-vein of tenderness below the sternness of his worldly manners which
-woman should know how to penetrate and bring for her own, as well as for
-his, proper enjoyment. It is in this strata of tenderness that she finds
-her true companionship with him, and he with her. If she is ignorant of
-his nature she knows not how to supply his wants or answer the calls of
-that nature. Thus we see most clearly the necessity of a thorough study
-of this whole subject by every youth. It is ignorance in these matters
-that causes a great amount of matrimonial infelicity.
-
-Some are disappointed in marriage because they expect too much from it;
-but many more because they do not bring into the copartnership their
-fair share of cheerfulness, kindness, forbearance, and common sense.
-Their imagination has pictured a condition of things never experienced
-on this side of heaven, and when real life comes with its troubles and
-cares there is a sudden wakening up as from a dream. Or, they look for
-something approaching perfection in their chosen companion, and discover
-by experience that the fairest of characters have their weaknesses. Yet
-it is often the very imperfection of human nature, rather than its
-perfections, that makes the strongest claims on the forbearance and
-sympathy of others and, in affectionate and sensible natures, tends to
-produce the closest unions.
-
-Marriage is the source from whence originates, as from a radiant point,
-the most beautiful glories of life, and also the deepest cares. Talk as
-we will of marriage, it is a real affair—it abounds in homely details.
-The joys of the wedding morn are quickly followed by the anxious cares
-of daily life. But if entered understandingly, and lived as becomes
-thoughtful, considerate human beings, each of whom tries to bear with
-the other's infirmities, and to consider the other's happiness as
-paramount with their own, it then becomes a delightful scene of domestic
-happiness, to which all true men and women look forward as the condition
-of life most consonant to their true happiness.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: SINGLE LIFE.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-In the minds of nearly all properly constituted individuals there exists
-the hope and expectation of marriage. This is in accordance with the law
-of God as written in our physical being, and the young man who marries
-not, save in a few exceptional cases, arising out of ill health,
-deformity, or eccentricity of character, fails in one of the most
-palpable duties of life. He deprives himself of life's most refined and
-exalted pleasures, of some of its strongest incentives to virtue and
-activity, sets an example unworthy of imitation, and fails to do much
-good that he might do in society. Moreover, he leaves one who might have
-made him a happy and useful companion to pine in maidenhood of heart
-through all the weary days of life.
-
-A single life is not without its advantages, while a married one that
-fails of accomplishing its true end is the acme of earthly wretchedness.
-It is eminently proper to prepare for marriage, since this is designed
-by the Almighty Author to promote the health, happiness, purity, and
-real greatness of our species. But it is an error to fancy that you can
-not be truly happy in a single state, or hastily to assume the
-responsibilities of married life without due consideration. There is
-many a wife who, having married hastily and with a lack of due caution,
-has buried her hopes even of happiness deep in a grave of despair. And
-many a man who married without due thought and consideration can date
-from that hour the death of his ambitious purposes, and in the
-disappointments of married life lose sight of the glorious hopes which
-inspired him while single.
-
-If the greatest happiness, and perhaps the only real and genuine kind,
-is to be found in the blessings of chaste and devoted love, yet
-matrimony, it must be acknowledged, is chargeable with numberless
-solicitudes and responsibilities; and if it often causes the heart to
-exult in joy, it as frequently makes it throb with pain. If it does not
-fall to your lot to participate in the delights and pleasures of a happy
-and reciprocal union of hearts; if destiny has restricted your
-sympathies and thwarted your desires, and consigned you, perhaps
-unwillingly, to solitude and celibacy; if you are only a neutral
-spectator of those scenes wherein great artifice and deception,
-unfairness and insincerity are too often practiced, and often hearts are
-won, but happiness lost, you may console yourself that there are many
-positive advantages in being alone. The command of time and freedom from
-many cares should open the way to new and beneficial sources of pastime
-and usefulness sufficient to reconcile you to your condition, and to
-make it as enviable as that of those who have more incumbrances but less
-ease, and who sometimes act as if the world was made for matrimony and
-nothing else.
-
-From the actions and conversations of some people you would suppose that
-marriage was the chief end of life, which view is altogether degrading
-and debasing in its tendency. For while admitting that it is, indeed,
-that state of life most becoming the dignity and happiness of man, yet
-it is not true that single life does not present fields of usefulness
-and honor, and that, above all things, it is true wisdom to remain
-single to the end of your days, unless you are satisfied that it is
-advisable to unite your destiny with that of another.
-
-Marriage has a great refining and moralizing tendency. When a man
-marries early and uses prudence in choosing a suitable companion, he is
-likely to lead a virtuous, happy life; but in an unmarried state all
-alluring vices have a tendency to draw him away. Marriage renders a man
-more virtuous and more wise. An unmarried man is but half of a perfect
-being, and it requires the other half to make things right; and it can
-not be expected that in this imperfect state he can keep straight in the
-path of rectitude any more than that a boat with one oar can keep a
-straight course. Marriage changes the current of a man's feelings, and
-gives him a center for his thoughts, his affections, and his acts.
-
-There are exceptions to every rule; but the chances are that the young
-man who marries will make a stronger and better fight all through life
-than he who remains single. The reason of this is not difficult to find.
-A man will not put forth all his energies who has not something outside
-of self to draw him on and to incite him to put forth his best
-exertions. He also feels the lack of a home, which tends to round out
-life. He may, indeed, have a place to eat, a place to sleep, and, for
-that matter, all the luxury that money can buy; but we have long since
-learned that money will not buy every thing. It is utterly beyond its
-power to purchase a home and the treasures of love. This the unmarried
-man can not obtain. He may be courted for his money; he may eat, drink,
-and revel; and he may sicken and die in a hotel or a garret, with plenty
-of attendants about him. But, alas! what are attendants, waiting like so
-many cormorants for their prey, as compared with those whose hearts are
-knit to him by the strong ties of family relationship.
-
-If marriage increases the cares it also heightens the pleasures of life.
-If it, in some instances, dampens the enthusiasm and seems a hindrance
-to success in countless instances it has proved to be the incentive
-which has called forth the best part of man's nature, roused him from
-selfish apathy, and inspired in him those generous principles and high
-resolves which have caused all his after life to be replete with kindly
-acts, and himself to develop into a character known, loved, and honored
-by all within the sphere of its influence.
-
-Jeremy Taylor, in contrasting single life with married life, says, in
-his quaint style: "Marriage is a school and exercise of virtue, and
-though marriage hath cares, yet single life hath desires which are more
-troublesome and more dangerous, and often end in sin; while the cares
-are but exercises of piety, and therefore, if single life hath more
-privacy of devotion, yet marriage hath more variety of it, and is an
-exercise of more grace. Marriage is the proper scene of piety and
-patience, of the duty of parents, and the charity of relations; here
-kindness is spread abroad, and love is united and made firm as a center.
-
-"Marriage is the nursery of heaven. The virgin sends prayers to God, but
-she carries but one soul to him; but the state of marriage fills up the
-number of the elect, and hath in it the labor of love and the delicacies
-of friendship, the blessings of society, and the union of hearts and
-hands. It hath in it more safety than single life hath; it hath more
-care; it is more merry and more sad; it is fuller of joys and sorrows;
-it lies under more burdens, but it is supported by all the strength of
-love and charity, which makes those burdens delightful. Marriage is the
-mother of the world, and preserves kingdoms, and fills cities and
-churches and heaven itself, and is that state of good things to which
-God hath designed the present constitution of the world."
-
-Though a great deal can be urged against marriage at too early an age,
-or against hasty and injudicious marriages, still there arrives a time
-in the life of every individual when it would be a great deal wiser for
-him to marry than to remain single. And we suppose that the number of
-bachelors who remain single all their life is exceedingly small;
-comparatively few of them die unmarried. When least expected they
-contract matrimonial alliances, thereby ofttimes disappointing numerous
-_protégés_, who have been confidently expecting that they would come in
-for the property. And the chances are against such marriages being
-happy, for it is more one of convenience, both on his part and that of
-his wife. She probably takes him because he is wealthy and can provide
-her with a first-rate establishment. He probably marries her because he
-is insufferably lonely and wishes to have a home of his own, where, if
-he can not do every thing as he likes, he is certain of a real welcome.
-
-Though many of the most pathetic sorrows of life are caused by the
-endearing relations existing, by marriage, between the suffering one and
-another, yet deep in the heart of many who walk through life alone,
-unattended by the sympathy of a loving companion,
-
- "Lies
- Deeply buried from human eyes"
-
-some of the deepest and most soul-pervading griefs that humanity knows
-of. Perhaps that old man, now so cross and fretful, whom we call "old
-bachelor," even now has a mistiness come in his eye and a pathetic
-tremor in his tongue as he looks at a faded picture, to him too sacred
-for the curious gaze of others—a picture whose limning has faded as the
-real one faded long ago under the coffin lid. And there are, no doubt,
-many whom we call selfish, proud, cold-hearted men who once were as
-warm-hearted and generous as any could wish, who once poured out all the
-wealth of their affections on one unworthy of them, the discovery of
-which changed their whole nature.
-
-There are women whom the world calls single, who are as truly wedded to
-a tear-stained package as if it really were the being it represents to
-them—who live in the old, sweet time those missives once belonged to,
-and who keep their hearts apart from the dull reality that makes up the
-present world. Years may have passed, and nothing remains the same
-except the dear dream that never knew reality, yet, held in their
-love-life by their fragile paper bonds, they still dwell in that fair,
-unsubstantial Spring-time, while Autumn fades and Winter, cold and
-dreary, reigns in all the outer world.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: MARRIED LIFE.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-The marriage institution is the bond of social order, and if treated
-with due respect, care, and consideration greatly enhances individual
-happiness and consequently general good. The Spartan law punished those
-who did not marry, those who married too late, and those who married
-improperly. Though positive law has long since ceased to exercise any
-discretion as to whether a person marries or remains single, yet, as the
-foundation of marriage is fixed in the law of God, written in our
-physical being, it follows that it is none the less true now than in the
-morning of time that it is "not good for man to be alone." For ages
-history has shown that the permanent union of one man with one woman
-establishes a relation of affection and interest which can in no other
-way be made to exist between two human beings. Hence marriage, both from
-a theoretical and a practical point of view, becomes to him an aid in
-the stern conflicts of life.
-
-Many a man has risen from obscurity to fame who in the days of his
-triumphant victory has freely and gracefully acknowledged that to the
-sympathy and encouragement of his wife during the long and weary years
-of toil he owed very much of his achieved success. The good wife! How
-much of this world's happiness and prosperity is contained in the
-compass of these two short words! Her influence is immense. The power of
-a wife for good or for evil is altogether irresistible. Home must be the
-seat of happiness or it must be forever unknown. A good wife is to a man
-wisdom and courage, strength and endurance; a bad one is confusion and
-weakness, discomfiture and despair. No condition in life is hopeless
-when the wife possesses firmness, decision, energy, and economy. There
-is no outward prosperity which can counteract indolence, folly, and
-extravagance at home. No spirit can long resist bad domestic influences.
-
-Man is strong, but his strength is not adamant. He delights in
-enterprise and action; but to sustain him he needs a tranquil mind and a
-whole heart. He expends his moral force in the conflicts of the world.
-In the true wife the husband finds not affection only, but
-companionship—a companionship with which no other can compare. The
-family relationship gives retirement with solitude, and society without
-the rough intrusion of the world. It plants in the husband's dwelling a
-friend who can bear his silence without weariness; who can listen to the
-details that affect his interests or sympathy; who can appreciate his
-repetition of events, only important as they are embalmed in the heart.
-
-Common friends are linked to us by a slender thread. We must reclaim
-them by ministering to their interests or their enjoyments. What a
-luxury it is for a man to feel that in his home there is a true and
-devoted being, in whose presence he may throw off restraint without
-danger to his dignity, he may confide without fear of treachery, and be
-poor or unfortunate without fear of being abandoned. If in the outer
-world he grows weary of human selfishness, his heart can safely trust in
-one whose indulgence overlooks his defects.
-
-The treasure of a wife's affection, like the grace of God, is given, not
-bought. Gold is power. It can sweep down forests, raise cities, build
-roads, and deck houses; but wealth can not purchase love and the
-affections of a wife. If any husband has failed to estimate the
-affections of a true wife, he will be likely to mark their value in his
-loss, when the heart that loved him is stilled by death. Is man the
-child of sorrow, and do afflictions and distresses pour their
-bitternesses into his cup? How are his trials alleviated, his sighs
-suppressed, his corroding thoughts dissipated, his anxieties and fears
-relieved, his gloom and depression chased away by her cheerfulness and
-love! Is he overwhelmed by disappointments and mortified by reproaches?
-There is one who can hide his faults from her eyes, and can love without
-up-braiding.
-
-A judicious wife is constantly exerting an influence for good over her
-husband. She is, so to speak, the wielder of the moral pruning knife,
-and is constantly snipping off from her husband's moral nature little
-twigs that are growing in the wrong direction. Intellectual beings of
-different sexes were surely intended by their Creator to go through the
-world thus together, united not only in hand and heart, but in
-principles, in intellect, in views, and in dispositions, each pursuing
-one common and noble end—their own improvement and the happiness of
-those around them by the different means appropriate to their situation,
-mutually correcting, sustaining, and strengthening each other,
-undegraded by all practices of tyranny on the one hand and deceit on the
-other, each finding a candid but severe judge in the understanding, and
-a warm and partial advocate in the heart, of their companion.
-
-A great deal has been said in a cynical way about the immense number of
-unhappy marriages. There is so much said on this subject that it is easy
-to forget that for every instance of complaint there are thousands of
-beneficent and prosperous unions of which the world never hears. It is
-natural that the evil attracts the most attention. Men and women whose
-married life is full of good and helpfulness do not often feel an
-impulse to defend the system under which they live. Sometimes we hear
-both sexes repine at their change, relate the happiness of their earlier
-years, blame the folly and rashness of their own choice, and warn others
-against the infatuation. But it is to be remembered that the days which
-they so much wish to call back are the days not only of celibacy, but of
-youth—the days of novelty and of improvement, of ardor and of hope, of
-health and vigor of body, of gayety and lightness of heart. It is not
-easy to surround life with any circumstances in which youth will not be
-delightful; and we are afraid that, whether married or single, we shall
-find the vesture of terrestrial existence more heavy and cumbersome the
-longer it is worn.
-
-It is human to see only the good side of any thing that is past and
-gone. Life is so full of disappointments that whenever in mature years
-we recall past days, our present state, being present reality, always
-suffers by comparison with the past. It would be well to calmly reflect
-on what happiness in married life depends. There is a great deal of
-mischief wrought in the world by the common understanding of the phrase
-"mismated." Many apparently act as if all the ills of married life could
-be explained by a convenient use of that word.
-
-It is arrogant folly to suppose that so much misery and wrong, so much
-selfishness and cruelty, so much that is low, animal, and unlovely in
-the lives of men and women, results from their being "mismated." They
-have, in the majority of cases, mistaken the cause of their trouble.
-These men and women are undeveloped, exacting, selfish, proud. They have
-undisciplined tempers, and they are accustomed to think of happiness for
-themselves as the chief end of marriage. No magic of "mating" would make
-the lives of such people very high or perfect.
-
-Nowhere does it prove so powerfully true as in married life, that your
-happiness is found in consulting the happiness of another. We are too
-prone to trust to specific treatment for particular evils. The real
-problem of happiness in married life is not difficult of solution if
-only sought with a spirit of willingness to learn the truths. There are
-no short roads to happiness. The men and women who marry must somehow
-acquire thoughtfulness, self-control, consideration for others,
-patience, and the other qualities, without which life is unendurable in
-any relations we know of. All candid persons will so readily admit this,
-that marriage speedily becomes a school for the exercise of virtue, and
-is the source and nurse of many of the best qualities in the life of man
-or woman.
-
-It is indeed wonderful that marriage does so much for them, and has such
-power to lift up their lives to light and beauty. The man who remains
-single to the end of his days can not well help growing cynical, cold,
-and selfish. By nature he may be as warm-hearted, as full of generous
-impulses, as any, but he has only himself to care for. He has never felt
-the necessity of striving to make happy the life of another. He has
-never known what it is to have a woman's heart, full of womanly
-tenderness and strength, affection, sympathy, and encouragement, looking
-to him for love and happiness, for protection and comfort; has never
-learned the lesson of patience as it is learned in bearing with the
-faults of a loved one. He has never known what it is to have a little
-child turn to him as the source of consolation for its childish troubles
-and sorrows. It can not but follow that, lacking all the bitter-sweet
-experience of married life, he shall in that degree fail of being a
-complete man.
-
-True, there are natures that, whether married or single, would only
-develop into the cold, hard-hearted disposition; but that does not at
-all detract from the fact that marriage does thus tend to make life more
-replete with kindness and manly attributes than celibacy. Every man
-feels the need of a home, and there is no more sorrowful sight than to
-see a man bent with the weight of years, who is homeless and has no
-friends united to him by family ties. There can not be a home without
-the institution of marriage. Think for a moment how much of the joy and
-sorrow of life is connected with the word home. What visions of hopes,
-what days of joy, what seasons of sorrow, does it not recall? All the
-lights and shades of life originate from thence. How, then, can a man or
-woman lacking the experience of home and married life possess the
-strength of character, the full and complete development, expected from
-those who have taken upon themselves the joys and sorrows, the cross and
-crown of matrimony?
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: DUTIES OF MARRIED LIFE.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Happiness in life is of such momentous importance that it becomes all to
-study well the conditions of happiness, and to none does this truth
-apply itself with greater force than to those who have taken upon
-themselves the duties of matrimony. It is vain and useless now to ponder
-the wisdom and propriety of the choice. The step has been taken, and it
-only remains now to take up the duties thus voluntarily assumed, and, in
-the due performance of the same, do what is in their power to gather the
-happiness with which God, in his goodness, has invested the marriage
-relation.
-
-Husbands and wives should learn to live happily together, for the lesson
-_can_ be learned. By living happily together we do not understand a
-calm, passive existence, unbroken by a single dissenting word or look,
-because persons are incapacitated for happiness who can adapt themselves
-to such an impotent existence. Occasional differences of opinion
-indicate mutual vitality, and, when backed by common sense and
-self-control, are no drawbacks to a peaceful life. But in all vital
-points of mutual interest husband and wife should agree perfectly,
-understanding that their interests are mutual, and that in every sense
-of the word they are one.
-
-Life is real, and our every-day wants and desires remain the same after
-as before marriage. All the infirmities of our nature must still be
-fought against. The marriage ceremony does not do away with the
-necessity of self-control; the passions still have to be subdued, and a
-careful watch maintained against hasty words and actions. Many, in
-failing to recognize these truths, are laying the foundation for future
-unhappiness. It is so easy to imagine that the loved one is all
-perfection, and when the soul is filled with the sweet influence of love
-it is so easy to think that this is sufficient for all the ills of life,
-that now these two "harps of a thousand strings" will henceforth always
-be attuned to each other, and thus, ignoring the fact that human nature
-is extremely frail, forget to strengthen it by the exercise of
-reflection and judgment, fail to summon to their aid consideration and a
-disposition to bear and forbear, suddenly awaken to the fact that life
-has ever its trials, and that—
-
- "For the busiest day some duty waits."
-
-They then learn that happiness comes only as the result of persistent
-following in the paths of duty, that no ceremony or rite can change
-their nature, that the plain rules of courtesy and kindness,
-consideration and respect, are as necessary now as in the Spring-time of
-love.
-
-Love on both sides and all things equal in outward circumstances are not
-all the requisites of domestic felicity. Young people seldom court in
-their every-day dress, but they must put it on after marriage. As in
-other bargains but few expose defects. They are apt to marry faultless.
-Love is blind, but faults are there and will come out. The fastidious
-attentions of wooing are like Spring flowers—they make pretty nosegays,
-but poor greens. The beautiful romance with which so many have invested
-the morning-time of wedded life is apt to wear off under the burden and
-heat of its noon. That this should not be so all will admit; that wedded
-love, like the river running to the ocean, should grow in magnitude as
-it rolls through life should, no doubt, be the result of all well-lived
-matrimonial lives. But, from the constitution and nature of man, such,
-unfortunately, is not always the case. The honeymoon, at times, gets an
-unexpected dash of vinegar, and at last it disappears altogether in the
-prosaic duties of home life. This is the trying hour of married life.
-Between the parties there can be no more illusions. The deceptions of
-courtship are no longer of avail.
-
-Right here is the chance to make or mar the happiness of life. Why not
-look the matter plainly in the face? Why not recognize the fact that
-life is not romance? It is a real thing, and altogether too precious to
-be thrown away in secret regrets or open indifference. It is your duty
-now to begin the duty or adaptation. If you have neglected to study the
-conditions of happiness heretofore begin at once to do so. If you have
-been derelict in duty resolve to do your share now. If you find you do
-not love each other as you thought you did double your attentions to
-each other, and be zealous of any thing which tends in the slightest way
-to separate you. Acknowledge your faults to one another, and determine
-that henceforth you will be all in all to each other. There is no other
-way for you to do. It is not too late for you to look for happiness. You
-are yet young. It is folly to expect naught but disappointment the rest
-of your life.
-
-The fault is in human nature, and, like most faults, has a remedy. It is
-well to study for the remedy, for the man or woman who has settled down
-on the conviction that he or she is attached for life to an uncongenial
-mate, and that there is no way of escape, has lost life; there is no
-effort too costly to make which can restore the missing pearl to its
-setting upon the bosom. No doubt much of the unhappiness of married life
-would be saved if only the sober views of life and duty were more
-carefully considered before marriage. If only every couple would
-consider that over against every joy stands a duty, and that tears and
-smiles alternate with each other through life, they would save
-themselves much disappointments. It is not too late, however, to begin;
-and so, if this truth be not recognized before marriage, do not delay an
-instant when once stern facts have withdrawn the pleasing illusions with
-which an untaught fancy invested matrimony, and life, with its duties as
-well as its pleasures, appears to your view.
-
-It has always seemed to us that much of the danger of home life springs
-from its familiarity; that in the intimate relations of husband and wife
-the parties are too apt to forget the claims of courtesy which are
-constantly pressing upon them. While there should be no strictness of
-formal etiquette between the parties, it is none the less true that,
-since life is made up of forms and ceremonies, and much of the pleasures
-of life depend on the due observance of the same, that a spirit of
-courtesy should constantly exist between husband and wife. Before
-marriage each would be cautious of a breach of manners, and would strive
-to demean themselves as became ladies and gentlemen. Are not the claims
-of courtesy just as pressing now as ever? Has the marriage ceremony
-given you any right to be less than polite? And, in a still higher
-sense, when you reflect that true courtesy is ever accompanied by the
-spirit of kindness and a dignity of carriage the more pressing are its
-claims.
-
-It is difficult to conceive of any station in life where the exercise of
-patience is not imperatively demanded. All life is effectually teaching
-and emphasizing this lesson of patience. But marriage affords a field
-where too great an importance can not be attached to it. Its claims are
-fresh every morning and new every evening, and it were difficult to
-conceive of any thing which had more to do with home happiness than
-bearing patiently the innumerable vexations which are constantly thrown
-in your path. Every coupled pair flatter themselves that their
-experience will be better aid more excellent than that of many who have
-gone before them. They look with amazement at the coldness,
-complainings, and dissatisfaction which spoil the comfort of so many,
-homes as at things which can not by any possibility fall to their
-happier lot. But like causes produce like effects, and to avoid the
-misfortune of others we must avoid their mistakes.
-
-The acquaintance of courtship is a very one-sided affair, both parties
-seeing through the peculiar atmosphere which magnifies virtue, changes
-defects into beauties, and makes the discovery of faults impossible. The
-discovery will certainly come, and those who had thought each other next
-to perfection will soon discover that some few imperfections and the
-common weaknesses of humanity remain. Disappointment is felt where there
-is no just reason for it. They had thought they were perfectly adapted
-to each other, and that mutual concessions would involve no self-denial,
-and that whatever either desired the other would instantly yield. But
-experience teaches that the work of mutual adaptation is precisely what
-they have to learn, to understand each other's peculiarities and tastes,
-weaknesses and excellencies, and by self-discipline and kindness of
-construction on both sides to receive and impart a modifying influence,
-bringing them nearer each other all the time, until through this
-interchangeable moral and spiritual culture the hopes of happiness are
-fully realized.
-
-But this happy result, which is unquestionably the highest earth
-affords, depends in a great degree upon the manner in which the first
-few years of married life are spent, and the success with which its
-first unavoidable trials are met and overcome. Some allow themselves to
-lose sight of the great truth that happiness is surest found in
-consulting the happiness of others. The husband should have as his great
-object and rule of conduct the happiness of his wife. Of that happiness
-the confidence in his affection is the chief element; and the proofs of
-this affection on his part, therefore, constitute his chief duty. An
-affection that shows itself not in caresses alone, as if these were the
-only demonstration of love, but of that respect which distinguishes love
-as a principle, from that brief passion which assumes, and only assumes,
-the name—a respect which consults the judgment as well as the wishes of
-the object beloved, which considers her who is worthy of being taken to
-the heart as worthy of being admitted to all the counsels of the head.
-
-Do not forget that your happiness both here and hereafter depends upon
-each other's influence. An unkind word or look, or an unintentional
-neglect sometimes lead to thoughts which ripen into the ruin of body and
-soul. A spirit of forbearance, patience, and kindness, and a
-determination to keep the chain of love bright, are likely to develop
-corresponding qualities, and to make the rough places of life smooth and
-pleasant. Have you seriously reflected that it is in the power of either
-of you to make the other utterly miserable? And when the storms and
-trials of life come, for come they will, how much either of you can do
-to calm, to elevate, to purify the troubled spirit of the other, and
-change clouds for sunshine!
-
-It is emphatically the duty of all who have entered into marriage to
-strive to forget self, and in furthering the happiness of the other to
-advance their own; ever remembering that, even though attended with the
-fairest of outward prospects, infirmity is inseparably bound up with
-your very nature, and that in bearing one another's burdens you are
-fulfilling one of the highest duties of the union. Love in marriage can
-not subsist unless it be mutual; and where love can not be there can be
-left of wedlock nothing but the empty husk of an outside matrimony, as
-undelightful and as unpleasing to God as any other kind of hypocrisy.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: TRIALS OF MARRIED LIFE.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-We celebrate the wedding and make merry over the honeymoon. The poet
-paints the beauties and blushes of the blooming bride; and the bark of
-matrimony, with its freight of untested love, is launched on the sea of
-experiment, amid kind wishes and rejoicing. But on that precarious sea
-are many storms, and even the calm has its perils; and only when the
-bark has weathered these, and landed its cargo in the haven of domestic
-peace, can we pronounce the voyage prosperous and congratulate on their
-merited and enviable reward.
-
-As long as human nature is what it is, we must expect that life of any
-kind will abound in trials. To conceive of a life utterly devoid of
-these is to conceive of a vegetative kind of existence. Trials, then,
-are to be expected, and they must be overcome. This is none the less
-true of married life. Marriages may be celebrated in bowers as fair as
-those of Eden, but they must be proved and put to test in the workshops
-of the world. And as each state of existence has its peculiar trials and
-cares, we need not be disappointed when experience teaches that, though
-marriage hath indeed great joys, it has also its trials and vexations.
-
-In prosaic, every-day life romantic minds are speedily sobered down, and
-the gloss of pretension is soon worn off. Hands that have heretofore
-seen no harder work than to entice strains of music from ivory keys,
-perhaps find themselves engaged in the less poetical, but equally as
-praiseworthy, occupation of mixing bread, or in the performance of other
-plain household duties which require to be dispatched, not by angels,
-but by women. And the possessor of faultless clothes and a silken
-mustache finds himself weighed down with altogether different burdens
-than those of holding fans and carrying parasols; and he is called upon
-to solve other questions than those relating to social etiquette.
-
-Courtship is to many a dreamy resting-place betwixt the joys of youth
-and the cares of maturity. Under the light of hope married life is
-nearly always a land of rainbows to the youth; but, as to produce the
-rainbow it requires the falling rain as well as the shining sun, so,
-when the nature of these prospective joys is carefully investigated, it
-will not surprise one to find that trials and duties are interposed
-between their present stand-point and the pure happiness of domestic
-life.
-
-To many a young couple, when life's realities come, come also the
-discovery of traits of character in each other which perfectly astonish
-them. Every day reveals something new and something unpleasant. The
-courtship character slowly fades away, and, with sorrow be it said, too
-often the courtship love as well. Now comes disappointment, sorrow,
-regret. They find that their characters are entirely dissimilar; they
-also awake to the fact that married life is full of cares, vexations,
-and disappointments. This, indeed, should have been expected; but it is
-human to see naught but joys in the future, especially from the
-stand-point of youth. This discovery often shipwrecks the happiness of
-the unfortunate couple.
-
-We have all seen the trees die in Summer-time. But the tree, with its
-whispering leaves and swaying limbs, its greenness, its umbrage, where
-the shadows lie hidden all the day, does not die all at once. First a
-dimness creeps over its brightness; next a leaf sickens here and there,
-and fades; next a whole bough feels the palsying touch of coming death;
-and finally the feeble signs of sickly life, visible here and there, all
-disappear, and the dead trunk holds out its stripped, stark limbs, a
-melancholy ruin. Just so does wedded love sometimes die. Wedded love,
-blessed with the prayers of friends, hallowed by the sanction of God,
-rosy with present joys, and radiant with future hopes, it dies not all
-at once. A hasty word casts a shadow upon it, and the shadow deepens
-with the sharp reply. A little thoughtlessness misconstrued, a
-little unintentional negligence, deemed real, a little word
-misinterpreted,—through such small channels do dissension and sorrow
-enter the family circle. Love becomes reticent, confidence is chilled,
-and noiselessly but surely the work of separation goes on, until the two
-are left as isolated as the pyramids, nothing remaining of the union but
-the legal form—the dead trunk of the tree, whose branches once waved in
-the sunlight. Is it not a melancholy reflection on human nature that
-petty trials and difficulties, from which no life is free, should have
-wrought such a startling effect?
-
-The great secret is to learn to bear with each other's failings; not to
-be blind to them—that were either an impossibility or a folly. We must
-see and feel them; if we do neither, they are not evils to us, and there
-is obviously no need of forbearance. We are to throw the mantle of
-charity around them, concealing them from the curious gaze of others; to
-determine not to let them chill the affections. Surely it is not the
-perfections, but the imperfections, of human character that make the
-strongest claims on our love.
-
-All the world must approve and even enemies must admire the good and the
-estimable in human nature. If husband and wife estimate only that in
-each which all must be constrained to value, what do they more than
-others? It is the infirmities of character, imperfections of nature,
-that call for pitying sympathy, the tender compassion that makes each
-the comforter, the monitor of the other. Forbearance helps each to
-attain command over themselves. This forbearance is not a weak and
-wicked indulgence of each other's faults, but such a calm, tender
-observation of them as excludes all harshness and anger, and takes the
-best and fullest method of pointing them out in the full confidence of
-affection.
-
-It should be remembered that trials and sufferings are the real test of
-merit in all life, as they bring out the real character. In married life
-husband and wife are often adapted to each other through trials, and the
-closest union is often wrought by suffering, even as iron is welded by
-heat. As much of the happiness of real life is artificial, so many
-things in wedded life that to third persons must seem as trials are,
-after all, only the sweetness of domestic life. How many couples, now in
-mature life and surrounded by luxury and all the comforts of wealth,
-look back to the days of early privation as amongst the happiest days of
-their life! Succeeding years have brought them wealth, but it took with
-them their domestic happiness.
-
-Marriage is too frequently the end instead of the beginning of love. The
-dreams of courtship vanish too often into thin air soon after the
-wedding ring is put on. The realization of that perfect and unalloyed
-happiness that each partner anticipated is seldom found in the holy
-bonds of matrimony. Cool and distant, with a feeling that the sweet
-courtesies of wooing-time are now out of place, they treat each other
-with an indifference that ends in mutual aversion and contempt. This is
-altogether wrong. As reasoning men and women they have entered the
-relation; it is vain to suppose it is one of unmixed delights. It has
-its trials. You must expect to meet them. The conditions of happiness
-there are much the same as elsewhere, therefore the only sure way of
-finding it is to forget self in the furtherance of the happiness of
-others. The trials of wedded life are seen to be but the approaches to
-its joys when once the spirit of kindly forbearance is spread abroad in
-the heart.
-
-It must seem to all who seriously meditate on this subject that many of
-the trials of married life arise from mistaken notions of economy and
-the right use of money. Every wife knows her husband's income or ought
-to know it. That knowledge should be the guide of her conduct. A clear
-understanding respecting the domestic expenses is necessary to the peace
-of every dwelling. If it be little, "better is a dinner of herbs where
-love is, than a stalled ox and hatred therewith." If it be ample, let it
-be enjoyed with all thankfulness. Partners in privation are more to each
-other than partners in wealth. Those who have suffered together love
-more than those who have rejoiced together. Where a wife, seeing her
-duty, has made up her mind to this, she will brighten her little home
-with smiles that will make it a region of perpetual sunshine.
-
-We account these two things essential to the happiness of married
-life,—to have a home of your own, and to live distinctly and honestly
-within your means. A great proportion of the failures in wedlock may be
-traced directly to the neglect of the latter rule. No man can feel happy
-or enjoy the sweets of domestic life who is spending more than he earns.
-No sensible person will account it a hardship to begin on a moderate
-scale; and those who do thus begin, and afterwards attain to the
-possession of wealth, always look back to the days of "small things"
-with peculiar satisfaction as the golden days of their hearts, if not of
-their purses. True affection delights in the opportunities of
-self-denial and in the little acts of personal service, for which there
-is scarcely any place in the house of the rich.
-
-At the shrine of domestic ambition much of the comfort and happiness of
-home life is immolated, and, for the sake of appearance, happiness and
-content are exchanged for wearying cares. To regulate our expenses by
-other people's income is the height of folly, and to contract debts for
-a style of living which is of our neighbor's choosing rather than our
-own is nearly akin to insanity. There is no happiness, social, domestic,
-or individual, without independence; and no dependence is so bitter as
-that of debt. And when you reflect how needless this is, you can readily
-see that in this instance, as in many others, the trials are of our own
-choosing, and might be avoided by consideration and care.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: HUSBAND AND WIFE.]
-
- "O let us walk the world, so that our love
- Burns like a blessed beacon, beautiful,
- Upon the walls of life's surrounding dark."
-
- —MASSEY.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-The true marriage is the result of years of mutual endeavor to please,
-and comes of patient efforts to learn each other's disposition and
-taste. This can be done by all who cherish right views of the duties and
-pleasures of the marriage relation.
-
-You have but one life to live, and no amount of money or influence or
-fame can pay you for a life of unhappiness. You can not afford to
-quarrel with one another. You can not afford to cherish a single
-thought, to harbor a single desire, to gratify a single passion, nor
-indulge a single selfish feeling, that will tend to make this union any
-thing but a source of happiness to you. So it becomes you at starting to
-have a perfect understanding with one another. It becomes you to resolve
-that you will be happy together at any rate, or that if you suffer it
-shall be from the same cause and in perfect sympathy. You are not to let
-any human being step between you under any circumstances.
-
-Human character, by a wise provision of Providence, is infinitely
-varied, and there are not two individuals in existence so entirely alike
-in their tastes, habits of thought, and natural aptitude that they can
-keep step with one another over all the rough places in the journey of
-life. There must be a leaning to one another. The compromise can not be
-all on one side. You can be happy together if you will, but the
-agreement to be happy must be mutual. Draw your souls closer and closer
-together from year to year. Get all obstacles out of the way. Just as
-soon as one arises attend to it, and get rid of it. At last they will
-all disappear. You will have become wonted to one another's habits and
-frames of mind and peculiarities of disposition, and love, respect, and
-charity will take care of the rest.
-
-If you observe faults in your companion keep them to yourself. What
-right have you, who should be the very one to kindly conceal faults, to
-inform others of their presence? Neither father nor mother, neither
-brother nor sister, have any right to be informed of the secrets of your
-domestic life. A husband and wife have no business to tell one another's
-faults to any body but themselves. They can not do it without shame.
-Their grievances are to be settled in private between themselves, and in
-all public places and among friends they are to preserve towards one
-another that nice consideration and entire respectfulness which their
-relations enjoin. With a true wife the husband's faults should be
-secret. A wife forgets when she condescends to that refuge of weakness,
-a female confidant. A wife's bosom should be the tomb of her husband's
-failings, and his character far more valuable in her estimation than
-life.
-
-Happiness between husband and wife can only be secured by that constant
-tenderness and care of the parties for each other which are based upon
-warm and demonstrative love. The heart demands that the man shall not
-sit silent, reticent, and self-absorbed in the midst of his family. The
-wife who forgets to provide for her husband's tastes and wishes
-renders her home undesirable for him. In a word, ever-present and
-ever-demonstrative gentleness must reign, or else the heart starves.
-
-There is propriety in all things, and though public displays of
-affection, familiarity of touch, and half-concealed caresses are always
-distasteful to men and women of sense, yet love is of such a nature that
-you must give it expression or it languishes. There are husbands so cold
-and formal that they have no kiss or caress for the wives whom they
-really love. There are wives to whom a single demonstration that shall
-tell to their hearts how inexpressibly pleasant their faces and their
-society are, and how fondly they are loved, would be better than untold
-gold.
-
-The affection that should link together man and wife is a far holier and
-more enduring passion than the enthusiasm of young love. It may want its
-gorgeousness or its imaginative character, but it is far richer in its
-attributes. It should not call for such daily proofs of existence as is
-demanded of the lover, but it is human to wish for the freshness of
-morning to continue far into the day and evening. True, it is vain to
-expect this, but humanity continually wishes for what can not be; and,
-though the glow and sparkle of the morning of love will fade away, yet
-it should be as fades the bewitching charm of morning into the quiet
-splendor of the Summer day; and, though recognizing that exhibitions of
-tenderness so appropriate for the morning of life are out of place in
-its noon, yet, as long as it is human to love, so long are exhibitions
-of it, quiet though they may be, gratifying to the one beloved.
-
-We exhort you who are a husband to love your wife even as you love
-yourself. Continue through life the same manly tenderness that in youth
-gained her affections. Reflect that though her bodily charms may not now
-be so great as then, yet that habit and a thousand acts of kindness have
-strengthened your mutual friendship. Devote yourself to her, and after
-the hours of business let the pleasures which you most highly prize be
-found in her society. The true wife wishes to feel sure that she is
-precious to her husband—not useful, not valuable, not convenient
-simply, but that she is dear to him; let her be the recipient of his
-polite and hearty attentions; let her notice that her cares and loves
-are noticed, appreciated, and returned, her opinions asked, her approval
-sought, and her judgment respected; in short, let her only be loved,
-honored, and cherished in fulfillment of the marriage vow, and she will
-be to her husband a well-spring of pleasure.
-
-We exhort you who are wife to be gentle and considerate to your husband.
-Let the influence which you possess over him arise from the mildness of
-your manner and the discretion of your conduct. Whilst you are careful
-to adorn your person with new and clean apparel—for no woman can long
-preserve affections if she is negligent on this point—be still more
-attentive in ornamenting your mind with meekness and peace, with
-cheerfulness and good humor. Lighten the cares and chase away the
-vexations to which he is inevitably exposed in his commerce with the
-world by rendering, as far as is in your power, his home pleasant. Keep
-at home. Let your employment and pleasures be domestic.
-
-What a man desires in a wife is her companionship, sympathy, and love.
-The way of life has many dreary places in it, and man needs a companion
-to go with him. A man is sometimes overtaken by misfortune; he meets
-with failure and defeat, trials and temptation beset him, and he needs
-one to stand by and sympathize. All through life, through storms and
-through sunshine, conflicts and victory, man needs a woman's love. Let
-him think upon his duty in return for this love. You who have taken a
-wife from a happy home of kindred hearts and kind companionship, have
-you done what you could to make amends for the loss of those friends and
-companions? Remember what your wife was when you took her, not from
-compulsion, but from your own choice—a choice based on what you then
-considered her superiority to all others. She was young—perhaps the
-idol of her happy home; she was as gay and blithe as the lark, and the
-brothers and sisters at her father's cherished her as an object of
-endearment. Yet she left all to join her destiny with yours—to make
-your home happy, and to do all that womanly ingenuity could do to meet
-your wishes, and to lighten the burdens which might press upon you.
-
-Consult the tastes and disposition of your husband, and endeavor to give
-him high and noble thoughts, lofty aims, and temporal comforts. Let the
-husband see that you really have a strong desire to make him happy, and
-to retain the warmest place in his respect, his admiration, and his
-affection. Enter into all his plans with interest. Sweeten all his
-troubles with your sympathy. Make him feel that there is one ear always
-open to the revelation of his experiences, that there is one heart that
-never misconstrues him, that there is one refuge for him in all
-circumstances, and that in all weariness of body and soul there is one
-warm pillow for his head, beneath which a heart is beating with the same
-unvarying truth and affection, through all gladness and sadness, as the
-faithful chronometer suffers no perturbation of its rhythm, whether in
-storm or shine.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: JEALOUSY.]
-
- "Trifles light as air,
- Are to the jealous confirmation strong
- As proofs of holy writ."
-
- —SHAKESPEARE.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-There is no passion more base, nor one which seeks to hide itself more
-than jealousy. It is ashamed of it itself when it appears. It carries
-its stain and disgrace on its forehead. We do not wish to acknowledge it
-ourselves, it is so ignominious, but hidden in the character we would be
-confused and disconcerted if it appeared; by the which we are convinced
-of our bad minds and debased courage.
-
-It is difficult sometimes to distinguish between jealousy and envy, for
-they often run into one another, and are blended together. The most
-valid distinction seems to be that jealousy is always personal. The
-envious man desires some good which another possesses; the jealous man
-suspects another of seeking to deprive him of some good that he already
-possesses.
-
-Jealousy is, in many respects, preferable to envy, since it aims at the
-preservation of some good which we think belongs to us; whereas envy is
-a frenzy that can not endure, even in idea, the good of others. Jealousy
-is such a headstrong passion, that therein doth consist its danger. All
-the other passions condescend at times to accept the inexorable logic of
-facts. But jealousy looks facts straight in the face, ignores them
-utterly, and says she knows a great deal better than they can tell her.
-
-Jealousy violates contracts, dissolves society, breaks wedlock, betrays
-friends and neighbors, thinks nobody is good, and that every one is
-either doing or designing them an injury. Its rise is in guilt or
-ill-nature; as he that is overrun with the jaundice takes others to be
-yellow. If jealousy were not a hardened offender, he must have
-disappeared ere this by the abuse which poets and moralists have alike
-delighted to heap upon him. Yet he still lives and flourishes, exerts
-his influence and displays his power, as though he were a favored friend
-or a welcome guest.
-
-Did jealousy always make its appearance in its ordinary form of
-detraction, it would be, comparatively speaking, harmless; but it is
-surprising how many different masks it can assume, and how it lurks and
-tries to conceal itself under some less mean and unlovable quality.
-Sometimes it appears in the character of injustice; sometimes it takes
-the form of rudeness and want of courtesy; occasionally a bitter or
-sarcastic way of speaking. At other times it borrows the garb of a
-virtue, and shows itself under what might be mistaken for humility or
-sincerity; lying coiled up like a serpent under some flower, and darting
-forth its venemous sting where and when you least expect to find it.
-
-No stronger proof is needed to show how contemptible a fault jealousy is
-than that no one is willing to acknowledge that they are jealous. It is
-jealousy that is the root and foundation of many offenses, but they are
-charged to other causes. Jealousy is singular in this: every trifling
-circumstance is regarded as confirming and strengthening the previously
-aroused suspicions. It is a sorer curse, a more certain and fatal blight
-to the heart on which it seizes, than it can be to those against whom
-its spite is hurled. Jealousy is as cruel as the grave; not the grave
-that opens its deep bosom to receive and shelter from further storms the
-worn and forlorn pilgrim, who rejoices exceedingly and is glad when he
-can find its repose; but cruel as the grave is when it yawns and
-swallows down from the lap of luxury, from the summit of fame, from the
-bosom of love, the desire of many eyes and hearts.
-
-Among the deadly things upon the earth, or in the sea, or flying through
-malarial regions, few are more noxious than jealousy. And of all mad
-passions there is not one that has a vision more distorted or a more
-unreasonable fury. To the jealous eye white looks black, yellow looks
-green, and the very sunshine turns deadly lurid. There is no innocence,
-no justice, no generosity that is not touched with suspicions save just
-the jealous person's own. Once lodged within the heart, for life it
-rules ascendant and alone. It sports in solitude. It pants for blood,
-and rivers will not sate its thirst. Minds strongest in worth and valor
-stoop to meanness and disgrace before it. The meanest soul, the weakest,
-it can give courage to beyond the daring of despair. No balm can assuage
-its sting. Death alone can heal its wound. When it has once possessed a
-man he has no ear but for the tale that falls like molten lead upon the
-heart.
-
-In nothing is jealousy more commonly shown than when under the fear that
-some one will supplant us in the affections of another. Here it assumes
-its most malignant form, here its greatest distress is wrought. The
-gamester, whose last piece is lost; the merchant, whose whole risk the
-sea has swallowed up; the child, whose air bubble has burst—may each
-create a bauble like the former. But he whose treasure was in woman's
-love, who trusted as man once trusts and was deceived—that hope once
-gone, there is no finding it again, no restoring it. Let not any too
-rigorously judge the conduct of a jealous woman or a jealous man.
-Remember that the maniac suffers. To be sure, the suffering is from
-selfishness, often it is without the shadow of a cause; but still it is
-suffering, and it is intense. Pity it, bear with it; you may yourself
-fall into temptation.
-
-It is said that jealousy is love. This is not true; for, though jealousy
-may be procured by love, as ashes are by fire, yet jealousy extinguishes
-love, as ashes smother the flame. Jealousy may exist without love, and
-this is common, for jealousy can feed on that which is bitter no less
-than on that which is sweet, and is sustained by pride as often as by
-affection.
-
-The unfortunate habit of mind which makes one prone to jealousy can not
-be too strenuously fought against. It were well to constantly remember
-that jealousy injures and pains no one so much as the person feeling it.
-It is a self-consuming fire, a self-inflicted torment, an arrow that
-falls back and wounds only the archer. It becomes one to cultivate a
-spirit of magnanimity toward all, and to strive to allay, by every means
-in his power, a too suspicious nature. It has been well said that there
-are occasions on which a man would have been ashamed of himself not to
-have been deceived. A man to be genuine to himself must believe and be
-believed, must trust and be trusted.
-
-Suspicion is no less an enemy to virtue than to happiness. He that is
-already corrupt is naturally suspicious, and he that becomes suspicious
-will quickly become corrupt. Suspicion is the child of guilt, the virtue
-of a coward. It is a vain and foolish pride which would teach that every
-one is conspiring against your happiness or has designs on your
-reputation and business. The fact is, probably no one is thinking of
-you. Yet your jealous disposition magnifies every little circumstance,
-and thus you are continually making yourself unhappy when no real cause
-exists. You are to strive against such an unfortunate disposition at all
-times. And it can be eradicated. It is not the liberally educated, those
-who have read much and thought more, who are thus suspicious and jealous
-in disposition; but it is the narrow-minded, the illiterate, and the
-vulgar.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: REGRET.]
-
- "For of all sad words of tongue or pen,
- The saddest are these, 'It might have been.'"
-
- —WHITTIER.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-There is not a word in the English tongue which signifies more than the
-word regret. It expresses every degree of pain in the gamut of sorrow,
-from the childish regret for a lost plaything, to the remorse which,
-when the sands of life are almost run, contemplates a wasted life.
-
-There are none who have not felt its potency; no age escapes it, and
-such will ever be the case as long as it is human to err. But as pain
-and sickness are the sentinels which guard the life and health of the
-body, so it is regret which keeps conscience alive in man and sustains
-the moral faculties in the discharge of duty. Life is full of sorrowful
-scenes, so much that could not have been avoided; but how much added
-force there is to sorrow when we reflect that we are to blame—that we
-knew at the time that we were doing wrong—that we disregarded the
-warning voice of conscience, contemptuously rejected the proffered
-advice of others, and have nothing to extenuate the keen regret gathered
-with the harvest of sorrow sown by our own negligence.
-
-The profoundest sorrow is not brought upon us by the world, by its
-bitterness, its malice, its injustice, or its persecution. These,
-indeed, affect us, and make us wiser, more weak, or more brave. We can,
-if we choose, repel the world's wrongs. We can laugh at the injuries
-inflicted upon us, and hurl defiance upon them; or, if we can not
-command this spirit, we may patiently endure what we do not resent. But
-the sorrows we bring upon ourselves by our own lack of discretion, or
-heedless obstinacy, when regret adds its sting, then it is that we
-experience what real sorrow is. We can not then repel its attacks with
-indifference.
-
-Regret is the heart's sorrow for past offenses,—the soul's prompting to
-better actions. Have you ever stood by the grave of one dear to you, and
-been compelled to remember how much happier you might have made that
-life which has now passed beyond your reach? Has the hasty or unkind
-word ever come back to you and repeated itself over and over, until you
-would gladly have given a year of your own life to have recalled it, and
-made it as if it had never been? Let us remember that those who are now
-living may soon be dead, and beware of adding to the things done that
-ought not to have been done, the things undone that ought to have been
-done. Many a heart has languished for the tenderness withheld in life,
-but poured out too late in remorse and unavailing regret.
-
-Let us be tender to our friends while they are with us,—not wait till
-they are gone to find out their good qualities. Let us be kind and
-gentle now, and not wait for regret to tell us of duty undone. The way
-of life is so full of occasions that call forth real regret, that it
-would seem that there was little danger of manifesting regret where it
-was uncalled for and useless. Yet such spectacles are of daily
-occurrence. When one has done the best he can, he should let that fact
-console him, and not give way to causeless regret and a wish that he had
-done differently.
-
-Under the guiding light of the present it is easy enough to discover the
-mistakes of the past; and it would be easy to make advantageous changes
-were we allowed to go back and commence anew in the journey of life. But
-alas! this is vain. What we should do is so to learn by reason of regret
-from the lessons of the past that we become fully fitted for the duties
-of the present. Regret, if deep and hopeless, becomes remorse, which
-settles down over the heart with a crushing weight, driving from thence
-all hope, unless, indeed, the angel of forgiveness brings consolation to
-the soul.
-
-There are many walking the earth whose lives are shadowed by some great
-sorrow, to which is added the pain of regret caused by their own
-heedless and inconsiderate actions. With one, it is the sorrow of a
-reputation gone,—some act of folly swept away the fair name founded on
-years of honest living. With another, it is the shadow of a grave dark
-and deep which covers the form of one whom death claimed before he had
-redressed some wrong done, carelessly perhaps, and with no intention of
-lasting injury. Hasty and inconsiderate marriages cause much vain
-repining and regret. The happiness of life is gone; the hopes of a home,
-endearing companionship, are fled, because hasty and inconsiderate
-action was taken where care and study was required. Of all regrets, the
-remorse that must accompany the closing moments of a misspent life must
-possess the sharpest sting. Life and its possibilities allowed to go to
-waste from a lack of consideration on our part! Oh, that the young would
-give heed to the warning voice of experience, and thus escape the vain
-regrets of later years!
-
-To escape regret, it is necessary to form the habit of doing your whole
-duty and avoiding impulsive actions. Pause before you say a hasty or a
-cruel thing. Human life is so uncertain, are you sure that you will have
-a chance to make it right before death will have claimed the object of
-your momentary anger? Tears and expressions of regret are of no avail
-when addressed to cold clay. Pause before doing a hasty or inconsiderate
-action. It may be of such a nature that you can not undo its effects. It
-may embitter your whole after life. Reflection is your good angel; give
-heed to her warning voice. How are you spending your life? Are you
-living as becomes a man and immortal being? Are you striving to make the
-most of life and its possibilities? If not, be warned in time, and turn
-from your ways. When life is nearly ended you will think of the
-past,—wonder at your actions, and sigh for the days of youth. They will
-not come to you again; therefore, make the most of them _now_. Thus will
-you spare yourself many vain regrets, and your closing days will be days
-of peace.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: MEMORY.]
-
- "Lull'd in the countless chambers of the brain,
- Our thoughts are linked by many a hidden chain.
- Awake but one, and lo, what myriads rise!
- Each stamps its image as the other flies."
-
- —POPE.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Some one has said that of all the gifts with which a beneficent
-Providence has endowed man the gift of memory is the noblest. Without it
-life would be a blank, a dreary void, an inextricable chaos, an
-unlettered page cast upon the vast ocean of uncertainty. Memory is the
-cabinet of the imagination, the treasury of reason, the registry of
-conscience, and the council chamber of thought. It is the only paradise
-we are sure of always possessing. Even our first parents could not be
-driven out of it. The memory of good actions is the starlight of the
-soul. Memory tempers prosperity by recalling past distresses, mitigates
-adversity by bringing up the thoughts of past joys, it controls youth
-and delights old age.
-
-Memory is the golden cord binding all the natural gifts and excellences
-together, and though it is not wisdom in itself, still it is the primary
-and fundamental power without which there could be no other intellectual
-operations. Memory is often accused of treachery and inconstancy, when,
-if inquired into, the fault will be found to rest with ourselves.
-Although nature has wisely proportioned the strength and liberality of
-this gift to various intellects, yet all have it in their power to
-improve it by classing, by analyzing and arranging the different
-subjects which successively occupy their minds. By these means habits of
-thought and reflection are required, which will materially conduce to
-the invigorating of the understanding, the improvement of the mind, and
-the strengthening and correction of the mental powers.
-
-A quick and retentive memory both of words and things is an invaluable
-treasure, and may be had by any one who will take the necessary pains.
-Educators sometimes in their anxiety to secure a wide range of studies
-fail to sufficiently impress on their scholars' minds the value of
-memory. This memory is one of the most valuable gifts God has bestowed
-upon us, and one of the most mysterious. The more it is called upon to
-exercise its proper function the more it is able to do, and there seems
-to be no limit to its power. It is not what one has learned, but what he
-remembers and applies that makes him wise. Still memory should be used
-as the storehouse, not as a lumber-room. The mind must be trained to
-think as well as remember, and to remember principles and outlines
-rather than words and sentences.
-
-It is an old saying that we forget nothing, as people in fever begin
-suddenly to talk the language of their infancy. We are stricken by
-memory sometimes, and old reflections rush back to us as vivid as in the
-time when they were our daily talk. We think of faces, and they return
-to us as plainly as when their presence gladdened our eyes and their
-accents thrilled in our ears. Many an affection that apparently came to
-an end, and dropped out of life one way or another, was only lying
-dormant. A scent, a note of music, a voice long unheard, the stirring of
-the Summer breeze may startle us with the sudden revival of long
-forgotten feelings and thoughts.
-
-Memory can glean, but can never renew. It brings us joys faint as the
-perfume of the flowers, faded and dried of the Summer that is gone. Who
-is there whose heart is dead to the memories of his childhood days? Old
-times steal upon us, quietly making us young again, even amid the din of
-business and the whirl of household cares! The care-worn face relaxes
-its tension and the saddened brow clears for a time as some
-well-remembered scene rushes through the mind, bringing back the
-childhood home and the loved faces which met around the daily board.
-
-We love to think of days that are past if they were days of happiness,
-and even experience a sad pleasure in recalling days of sadness. The man
-or woman who loves to look back upon the direction and counsel of a wise
-father and faithful mother will seldom do an unworthy or unjust act. And
-we find the most degraded at times marveling as to what led them into
-sin, because the remembrance of a happy home is theirs—a home of
-purity, of a father's and mother's loving counsel and upright example.
-
-When sorrow and trial, care and temptation, surround us how often do we
-gain courage and renewed strength by thinking of the past. The bankrupt
-loves to think that he started on a fair basis from the cradle. And the
-worldly woman, who seems plunged in the vortex of fashionable pleasure,
-stops to think that it was not always thus, that a devoted mother taught
-her nobler things, and an earnest father bade her live for some real
-object in life. Just that moment's reflection may sow the seed which
-will develop into a life of charity and good works among her
-fellow-mortals. And that condemned criminal—who knows what memory
-recalls to his view? Perhaps it was a home from whence the incense of
-daily prayer ascended to God—where kind words enforced a cheerful
-obedience to wise counsels. Disturb him not; the influence is holy—'tis
-memory's voice urging him to final repentance.
-
-We love to think of the unbroken circle; the curly heads of the
-children, and the various dispositions that marked them; the childish
-employments and aspirations; the mischievous pranks and merited
-punishment; and the quiet hour when the mother, gathering the little
-ones about her, told them of the better life to come, and sought
-earnestly to teach them that here below we live as school children,
-gaining an education that shall fit us for the brighter home hereafter.
-But these thoughts are not altogether of joyous scenes. Change and death
-appeared on the scene, and strangers came to dwell in the home of our
-childhood.
-
-It is strange what slight things suffice to recall the scenes of
-childhood. A fallen tree, a house in ruins, a pebbly bank, or the
-flowers by the wayside, arrest our steps, and carry the thoughts back to
-other days. In fancy we again visit the mossy bank by the wayside, where
-we so often sat for hours drinking in the beauty of the primrose with
-our eyes; the sheltered glen, darkly green, filled with the perfume of
-violets that shone in their intense blue like another sky spread upon
-the earth; the laughter of merry voices, are all brought back to memory
-by the simplest causes.
-
-The reminiscences of youth are a trite theme, but it possesses an
-interest which the world can not dislodge from our breasts. If all then
-was not uninterrupted sunshine, yet the clouds flew rapidly by, and left
-no permanent shade behind them, as do those of mature years. From the
-covenants of friendship then we thought in after days to enjoy the
-benefits and treasures of love. But the forces of life have driven us
-asunder, and swept away all but the memory of the past. How different
-the contrast in thoughts and feelings then and now! Then it was the
-trusting confidence of childhood; now it is the doubting mind that hath
-tasted of the world's insincerity. We had _faith_ then, but we have
-_doubts_ now.
-
-The heart must, nay, it has, grown old, and is full of cares. It will
-relate at length the history of its sorrows, but it has few joys to
-communicate. Memory seldom fails When its office is to show us the tomb
-of our buried hopes. Joy's recollection is no longer joy, but sorrow's
-memory is a sorrow still. The memory of past favors is like a
-rainbow—bright, beautiful, and vivid—but it soon fades away; the
-memory of injuries is engraved on the heart, and remains forever. The
-course of none has been along so beaten a road that they remember not
-fondly some resting-places in their journey, some turns in their path in
-which lovely prospects broke in upon them, some plats of green
-refreshing to their weary feet.
-
-Some one has said: "Memory is ever active, ever true; alas, if it were
-only as easy to forget!" Memory is a faithful steward, and holds to view
-many scenes over which we would fain drop the curtain of oblivion and
-let the dust of forgetfulness cover them from view. What a relief could
-we but forget that angry word! The uncalled-for harshness and the
-passionate outbreak that went unrecalled so long that death
-intervened—O could we but erase their remembrance! But no, with a
-retaliative justice memory summons us to review them! Words which can
-never be recalled, deeds whose effect on others can never be effaced,
-how they come, one by one, showing us how useless our lives have
-been—how vain! Still, these memories are friends in disguise, for they
-are faithful monitors, and are experience's ready prompters. How much is
-spoken which deserves no remembrance, and which does not serve as a
-single link in one's existence, not calling forth one result for others'
-weal, or thrilling one chord with nobler impulses!
-
-How beautiful to distinguish the pearls in the rush of events—this
-torrent of scenes both sad and pleasing! The gift of memory is
-diversified to different people, some having a taste for history, some
-for literature; others delight in politics, and so on through all the
-different phases of existence, with its diversity of thought and
-feeling. Memory has been compared to a vast storehouse. How important,
-then, that we inure the mind to healthful actions instead of feeding it
-on poisons until it will produce naught but poisonous thoughts! Look at
-the world of literature and science. Why not delve in its mines of
-glittering, genuine treasures? Inasmuch as the mind derives much of its
-pleasures from thoughts of the past it becomes all to provide, as far as
-possible, for happy reminiscences. This is the reward of right living.
-An aged person whose thoughts revert to a life of self-denial and
-exertion in virtue's ways has a source of happiness, pure and unalloyed,
-which is denied to him whose guiding rule of life has been selfishness.
-
-Memory has a strange power of crowding years into moments. This is
-observed ofttimes when death is about to close the scene. As the
-sunlight breaks from the clouds and across the hills at the close of a
-stormy day, lighting up the distant horizon, even so does memory, when
-the light of life is fast disappearing in the darkness of death, break
-forth and illume the most distant scenes and incidents of past years.
-And the very clouds of sorrow which have drifted between are lighted up
-with a glorious light. As the soft, clear chimes of the silvery bells at
-the vesper hour float down on the shadowy wings of evening, even so are
-the thoughts of old age. They recall scenes past, their memory being all
-that is left now. It may be the face of a mother, the smile of a sister,
-a father's kind voice, all stilled by death. Many of these thoughts are
-too sacred to expose to the gaze of the curious; they are their only
-treasures; beware of drawing back the curtain which conceals them from
-your view.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: HOPE.]
-
- "Auspicious hope! in thy sweet gardens grow
- Wreaths for each toil, a charm for every woe."
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-All that happens in the world is directly or indirectly brought about by
-hope. Not a stroke of work would be done were it not in hopes of some
-glorious reward. It matters not that it generally paves the way to
-disappointment. Phœnix-like it rises from its ashes and bids us
-forget the disappointment of the present in the contemplation of future
-delights. Hope, then, is the principal antidote which keeps our hearts
-from bursting under the pressure of evils.
-
-Some call hope the manna from heaven that comforts us in all
-extremities; others the pleasant flatterer that caresses the unhappy
-with expectations of happiness in the bosom of futurity. But if hope be
-a flatterer she is the most upright of all the flattering parasites,
-since she frequents the poor man's hut as well as the palace of his
-superiors. It is common to all men; those who possess nothing more are
-still cheered by hope. When all else fails us hope still abides with us.
-
-Used with a due prudence hope acts as a healthful tonic; intemperately
-indulged, as an enervating opiate. The vision of future triumph, which
-at first animates exertion, if dwelt upon too strongly, will usurp the
-place of the reality, and noble objects will be contemplated, not for
-their own inherent worth, or with a design of compassing their
-execution, but for the day-dreams they engender. Hope sheds a sweet
-radiance on the stream of life, and never exerts her magic except to our
-advantage. We seldom attain what she beckons us to pursue, but her
-deceptions resemble those which the dying husbandman in the fable
-practiced upon his sons, who, by telling them of a hidden mass of wealth
-which he had buried in his vineyard, led them so carefully to delve the
-ground that they found, indeed, a treasure, though not in gold, in wine.
-
-Reasonable hope is endowed with a vigorous principle; it sets the head
-and heart to work, and animates one to do his utmost, and thus, by
-perpetually pushing and assuring, it puts a difficulty out of
-countenance, and makes a seeming impossibility give way. Human life hath
-not a surer friend nor, many times, a greater enemy than hope. It is the
-miserable man's god, which, in the hardest grip of calamity, never fails
-to yield him beams of comfort. It is the presumptuous man's devil, which
-leads him awhile in a smooth way, and then lets him break his neck on
-the sudden.
-
-How many would die did not hope sustain them! How many have died by
-hoping too much! This wonder may we find in hope—that she is both a
-flatterer and a true friend. True hope is based on energy of character.
-A strong mind always hopes, and has always cause to hope, because it
-knows the mutability of human affairs, and how slight a circumstance may
-change the whole course of events. Such a spirit, too, rests upon
-itself; it is not confined to partial views, or to one particular
-object, and if at last all should be lost it has saved itself its own
-integrity and worth.
-
-It is best to hope only for things possible and probable; he that hopes
-too much shall deceive himself at last, especially if his industry does
-not go along with his hopes, for hope without action is a barren undoer.
-Hope awakens courage, but despondency is the last of all evils; it is
-the abandonment of good—the giving up of the battle of life with dead
-nothingness. When the other emotions are controlled by events hope
-remains buoyant and undismayed,—unchanged, amidst the most adverse
-circumstances. Causes that effect, with depression, every other emotion
-appear to give fresh elasticity to hope. No oppression can crush its
-buoyancy; from under every weight it rebounds; amid the most depressing
-circumstances it preserves its cheering influence; no disappointment can
-annihilate its power; no experience can deter us from listening to its
-sweet illusions; it seems a counterpoise for misfortune, an equivalent
-for every disappointment.
-
-It springs early into existence; it abides through all the changes of
-life, and reaches into the futurity of time. In the midst of
-disappointments it whispers consolation, and in all the arduous trials
-of life it is a strong staff and support. If, in the warmth of
-anticipation, it prepares the way for the very disappointments to which
-it afterwards administers relief it must be confessed that, in the
-severer inflictions of adversity, which come upon us unlooked for, and
-where previously the voice of sorrow was never heard, it then appears
-like an angel of mercy, and frequently assuages the anguish of
-suffering, and wipes the dropping tears from the eyes.
-
-Hope lives in the future, but dies in the present. Its estate is one of
-expectancy. It draws large drafts on a small credit, which are seldom
-honored when presented at the bank of experience, but have the rare
-faculty of passing readily elsewhere. Hope calculates its schemes for a
-long and durable life, presses forward to imaginary points of bliss, and
-grasps at impossibilities, and, consequently, very often ensnares men
-into beggary, ruin, and dishonor. Hope is a great calculator, but a poor
-mathematician. Its problems are seldom based on true data, and their
-demonstration is more often fictitious than otherwise.
-
-There is a morality in every true hope which is a source of consolation
-to all who rightly seek it. It is a good angel within that whispers of
-triumph over evil, of the success of good, of the victory of truth, of
-the achievement of right. "It hopeth all things." It is a strong
-ingredient of courage. Under its guiding light what great events have
-been wrought to a successful completion! It is a friend of virtue. Its
-religion is full of glorious anticipations. It encourages all things
-good, great, and noble.
-
-It is not surprising when we reflect on the nature of hope that we find
-it to be such a mainspring to human action. It is the parent of all
-effort and endeavor, and "every gift of noble origin is breathed upon by
-hope's perpetual breath." It may be said to be the moral engine that
-moves the world and keeps it in action. Every true hope which has for
-its object some great and noble design is an unexpressed prayer, which
-flies on angel's wings to the throne of God, and returns to the
-struggling one a precious benison of inspiration to go forth on his
-errand of good.
-
-A true hope we can touch somehow through all the lights and shadows of
-life. It is a prophecy fulfilled in part—God's earnest money paid into
-our hands, that he will be ready with the whole when we are ready for
-it. It is the sunlight on the hill-top when the valley is dark as death;
-the spirit touching us, all through our pilgrimage, and then soaring
-away with us into the blessed life where we may expect either that the
-fruition will be entirely equal to the hope, or that the old glamour
-will come over us again, and beckon us on forever as the choicest gift
-heaven has to give.
-
-"Hope deferred," saith the proverb, "maketh the heart sick." But we are
-prone to be too dictatorial as to how we enjoy life; too positive. We
-must not determine that their fulfillment must come in just the way we
-wish, or else we will be miserable in the grief of disappointment. It is
-not for man wholly to determine his steps. Sometimes what he thinks for
-his good turns out ill; and what he thinks a great evil develops a great
-blessing in disguise. It is folly, almost madness, to be miserable
-because things are not as we would have them, or because we are
-disappointed in our plans. Many of our plans must be defeated for our
-own good. A multitude of little hopes must every day be crushed, and now
-and then a great one.
-
-But while we may be all wrong in our thoughts of the special form in
-which our blessing will come, we need not fail of the blessing. It may
-be like the mirage, shifting from horizon to horizon as we plod wearily
-along; but in the fullness of God's own time we shall reap if we faint
-not. There is always a sadness in the dying of a great hope. It is like
-the setting of the sun. The brightness of our life is gone, shadows of
-the evening fall behind us, and the world seems but a dim reflection of
-itself—a broader shadow. We look forward into the lonely night. The
-soul withdraws itself. Then stars arise, and the night is holy.
-
-Hopes and fears checker human life. The one serves to keep us from
-presumption, the other from despair. Hope is the last thing that dieth
-in man. Though it may be deceptive, yet it is of this good use to us,
-that while we are traveling through this life it conducts us in an
-easier and more pleasant way to our journey's end. There is no one so
-fallen but that he may have hopes; nor is any so exalted as to be beyond
-the reach of fears. "When faith, temperance, and other celestial powers
-left the earth," says one of the ancient writers, "Hope was the only
-goddess that stayed behind."
-
-The man who carries a lantern in a dark night can have friends walking
-safely by the light of its rays, and not be defrauded himself. So he who
-is of cheerful disposition, and has the light of hope in his breast, can
-help on many others in this world's darkness, not to his own loss, but
-to their gain. Hope is an anchor to the soul, both sure and steadfast,
-that will restrain our frail bark and enable us to outride the storms of
-time.
-
-There are so many humiliations in this world! The secret is to rise
-above them, to throw off dissatisfaction, and to grasp some pleasing
-hope, grateful and beneficial to the mind. We are encompassed by
-illusions and delusions. We need the comforting promises of the heart—a
-steadfast faith in the good and true, and hopefulness in all things,
-especially of futurity. Hope is rich and glorious, and faithfully should
-it be cultivated. Let its inspiring influence grow in the heart; it will
-give strength and courage.
-
-Let the cheerful word fall from the lips, and the smile play upon the
-countenance. The way of the world is dark enough even to the most
-favored ones among us. Why not, then, gather all the happiness out of
-life that you can? Why not strive to cultivate the cheerful, hopeful
-disposition that will enable you to see the silver lining to every
-cloud? By such a course you will do much to assuage the sorrows and to
-increase the joys and pleasures of life.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: PROSPERITY.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Prosperity is the great test of human character. Many are not able to
-endure prosperity. It is like the light of the sun to a weak
-eye—glorious, indeed, in itself, but not proportioned to such an
-instrument. Greatness stands upon a precipice, and if prosperity carries
-a man ever so little beyond his poise, it overbears and dashes him to
-pieces.
-
-Moderate prosperity is not only to be hopefully expected as the proper
-reward of a life's exertion, but to bring the best human qualities to
-any thing like perfection, to fill them with the sweet juices of
-courtesy and charity, prosperity, or a moderate amount of it, is
-required, just as sunshine is needed for the ripening of peaches and
-apricots. But prosperity, if it be good for the encouragement of
-humanity, is full of danger as well. There is ever a certain languor
-attending the fullness. When the heart has no more to wish, it yawns
-over its possession, and the energy of the soul goes out like a flame
-that has no more to devour. A smooth sea never made skillful mariners,
-neither do uninterrupted prosperity and success qualify men for
-usefulness and happiness. The storms of adversity, like those of the
-ocean, rouse the faculties and excite the invention, prudence, and skill
-of the voyager. The martyrs of ancient times, in bracing their minds to
-outward calamities, acquired a loftiness of purpose and a moral heroism
-worth a life-time of softness and security.
-
-It seems as if man were like the earth. It can not bask forever in the
-sunshine. The snows of Winter and its frosts must come and work in the
-ground, and mellow it to make it fruitful. A man upon whom continuous
-sunshine falls is like the earth in August—he becomes parched, hard,
-and close-grained. To some men the Winter and Spring come when they are
-young. Others are born in Summer, and made fit to live only by a Winter
-of sorrow coming to them when they are middle-aged or old. But come it
-must, and under its softening influence the mind is fitted for the
-routine of life, and then the warm, shining sun of prosperity spreads
-abroad in the heart its vivifying influence, and the best powers of man
-are developed.
-
-The way to prosperity is as plain as the way to market. It depends
-chiefly on two words—industry and frugality; that is, waste neither
-time nor money, but make the best use of both. Without industry and
-frugality nothing will do, and with them every thing. There is no other
-way to arrive at a true prosperity. It is gained only by diligent
-application to the business of life. The men who may be said to be
-prosperous are seldom men who have been rocked in the cradle of
-indulgence or caressed in the lap of luxury, but they are men whom
-necessity has called from the shade of retirement to contend under the
-scorching rays of the sun with the stern realities of life, with all of
-its vicissitudes.
-
-Many make the mistake of supposing that prosperity and happiness are
-identical terms. The most prosperous are often the most miserable, while
-happiness may dwell with him whose every effort has failed, provided
-only that he hath done his best. There is, therefore, a true and a false
-prosperity, much resembling each other. But the similarity is in
-resemblance only, for they differ in constitution. The one is true and
-substantial, and is the result of a well-lived life. Its rewards are
-inward content and surroundings of comfort; the enjoyment of the real
-blessings of life and the unfolding of all the better nature of man. Its
-imitation is the reward gained by unjust or dishonest means. It may have
-the luster, but it lacketh the ring and weight of the true metal. It may
-have the outward adornment, but can not bring its possessor the inward
-peace of him who hath the former. Instead of unfolding and expanding the
-heart of man, it hardens it and dries up the better nature.
-
-Engage in one kind of business only, and stick to it until you succeed,
-or until your experience shows that you should abandon it. A constant
-hammering will generally drive it home at last so that it can be
-clinched. When a man's undivided attention is centered on one object his
-mind will be constantly suggesting improvements of value, which would
-escape him were his brain occupied by a dozen different objects at once.
-Many a fortune has slipped through a man's fingers because of attention
-thus engaged; there is good sense in the old caution against having too
-many irons in the fire at once.
-
-Adversity in early life often lays the foundation for future prosperity.
-The hand of adversity is cold, but it is the hand of a friend. It
-dispels from the youthful mind the pleasing, but vain, illusions of
-untaught fancy, and shows that the road to success and prosperity is
-always a road requiring energetic action to surmount its difficulties.
-There is something sublime in the resolute, fixed purpose of him who
-determines to rise superior to ill-fortune. "At thy first entrance upon
-thy estate," saith a wise man, "keep a low sail that thou mayest rise
-with honor; thou canst not decline without shame; he that begins where
-his father ends will generally end where his father began."
-
-As full ears load and lay corn so does too much fortune bend and break
-the mind. It deserves to be considered, too, as another advantage, that
-affliction moves pity and reconciles our enemies; but prosperity
-provokes envy and loses us even our friends. Again, adversity is a
-desolate and abandoned state, and, as rats and mice forsake a tottering
-house, so do the generality of men forsake him who is cast down by
-adversity. As a consequence, he who has never known adversity is but
-half acquainted with others or with himself, and can not be expected to
-put forth full measure of his powers.
-
-The patient conquest of difficulties which rise in the regular and
-legitimate channels of business and enterprise is not only essential in
-securing the ultimate prosperity which you seek, but it is requisite to
-prepare your mind for enjoying your prosperity. Every-where in human
-experience, as frequently as in nature, hardship is essential to
-ultimate success. That magnificent oak was detained twenty years in its
-upward growth while its roots took a great turn around a bowlder, by
-which the tree was anchored to withstand the storms of centuries. They
-who are eminently prosperous, or who achieve greatness or even notoriety
-in any pursuit, must expect to make enemies. Whoever becomes
-distinguished is sure to be a mark for the malicious spite of those who,
-not deserving success themselves, are galled by the merited triumph of
-the more worthy. Moreover, the opposition which originates in such
-despicable motives is sure to be of the most unscrupulous character,
-hesitating at no iniquity, descending to the shabbiest littleness.
-Opposition, if it is honest and manly, is not in itself undesirable. It
-is the whetstone by which a highly tempered nature is polished and
-sharpened. Uninterrupted prosperity shows us but one side of the world.
-For, as it surrounds us with friends who will tell us only our merits,
-so it silences those enemies from whom alone we can learn our defects.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: TRIFLES.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-It is to the contempt of details that many men may trace the cause of
-their present misfortune. The world is full of those who languish, not
-from a lack of talents, but because, in spite of their many brilliant
-parts, they lack the power of properly estimating the value of trifles.
-Their souls fire with lofty conceptions of some work to be achieved,
-their minds warm with enthusiasm as they contemplate the objects already
-attained; but when they begin to put the scheme into execution they turn
-away in disgust from the dry minutiæ and vulgar drudgery which are
-requisite for its accomplishment. Such men bewail their fate. Failing to
-do the small tasks of life, they have no calls to higher ones, and so
-complain of neglect.
-
-As the universe itself is composed of minute atoms, so it is little
-details, mere trifles, which go to make success in any calling.
-Attention to details is an element of effectiveness which no reach of
-plan, no loftiness of design, no enthusiasm of purpose can dispense
-with. It is this which makes the difference between the practical man,
-who pushes his thoughts to a useful result, and the mere dreamer. If we
-would do much good in the world we must be willing to do good in little
-things, in little acts of benevolence one after another; speaking a
-timely and good word here, doing an act of kindness there, and setting a
-good example always. We must do the first good thing we can, and then
-the next. This is the only way to accomplish much in one's lifetime. He
-who waits to do a great deal of good at once will never do any thing.
-
-The disposition of mankind is to despise the little incidents of
-every-day life. This is a lamentable mistake, since nothing in this life
-is really small. In the complicated and marvelous machinery of
-circumstances it is absolutely impossible to decide what would have
-happened as to some event if the smallest deviation had taken place in
-the march of those that preceded them. In a factory we may observe the
-revolving wheel in one room and in another, many yards distant, the silk
-issuing from the loom, rivaling in its tints the colors of the rainbow.
-There are many events in our lives, the distance between which was much
-greater than that between the wheel and ribbon, yet the connection was
-much closer. It is, indeed, strange on what petty trifles the crises of
-life are decided. A chance meeting with some friend, an unexpected delay
-in some business venture, may be the source from which you date the rise
-of good or ill fortune.
-
-There are properly no trifles in the biography of life. The little
-things in youth accumulate into character in age and destiny in
-eternity. Little sums make up the grand total of life. Each day is
-brightened or clouded by trifles. Great things come but seldom, and are
-often unrecognized until they are passed. It has been said that if a man
-conceives the idea of becoming eminent in learning, and can not toil
-through the many little drudgeries necessary to carry him on, his
-learning will soon be told. Or if one undertakes to become rich, but
-despises the small and gradual advances by which wealth is ordinarily
-acquired, his expectations will be the sum of his riches.
-
-The difference between first and second class work in every department
-of labor lies chiefly in the degree of care with which the minutiæ are
-executed. No matter whether born king or peasant, our inevitable
-accompaniment through life is a succession of small duties, which must
-be met and overcome, or else they will defeat our plans. When we reflect
-that no matter what profession or business we may follow, it demands the
-closest attention to a mass of little and apparently insignificant
-details, then we comprehend why it is that the patient plodder, the slow
-but sure man, so universally surpasses the genius who had such a
-brilliant career in college. It is all very well to form vast schemes.
-It is, however, the homely details of their execution that furnish the
-crucial tests of character. The successful business man at home,
-surrounded by articles of luxury, is a spectacle calculated to spur on
-the toiler. But the merchant at his office has had to work with trifles,
-to toil over columns of figures to post his ledger; and while you were
-carelessly spending a dollar, he has ransacked his books to discover
-what has become of a stray shilling.
-
-In short, success in any pursuit can not be obtained unless the trifling
-details of the business are attended to. No one need hope to rise above
-his present situation who suffers small things to pass unimproved, or
-who, metaphorically speaking, neglects to pick up a cent because it is
-not a shilling. All successful men have been remarkable, not only for
-general scope and vigor, but for their attention to minute details. Like
-the steam hammer, they can forge ponderous bolts or fashion a pin. It is
-singular that in view of these facts men will neglect details. Many even
-consider them beneath their notice, and when they hear of the success of
-a business man who is, perhaps, more "solid" than brilliant, sneeringly
-remark that he is "great in little things." But with character, fortune,
-and the concerns of life, it is the littles combined that form the great
-whole. If we look well to the disposition of these, the sum total will
-be cared for. It is the pennies neglected that squander the dollars. It
-is the minutes wasted that wound the hours, and mar the day.
-
-Much of the unhappiness of life is caused by trifles. It is not the
-great bowlders, but the small pebbles on the road, that bring the
-traveling horse on his knees; and it is the petty annoyances of life, to
-be met and conquered afresh each day, that try most severely the metal
-of which we are made. Small miseries, like small debts, hit us in so
-many places and meet us at so many turns and corners, that what they
-lack in weight they make up in number, and render it less hazardous to
-stand the fire of one cannon ball than a volley composed of such a
-shower of bullets. The great sorrows of life are mercifully few, but the
-innumerable petty ones of every day occurrence cause many to grow weary
-of the burden of life.
-
-Those acts which go to form a person's influence are little things, but
-they are potential for good or evil in the lives of others. From the
-little rivulets we trace the onward flowing of majestic rivers,
-constantly widening until lost in the ocean; and so the little things of
-an individual life, in their ever-widening influence for good or evil,
-diffusing misery or happiness around them, are borne onward to swell the
-joys or sorrows of the boundless ocean of eternity, and should be noted
-and guarded the more carefully from their infinitely higher importance.
-Words may seem to us but little things, but they possess a power beyond
-calculation. They swiftly fly from us to others, and though we scarcely
-give them a passing thought, their spirit lives. Though they are as
-fleeting as the breath that gave them, their influence is as enduring as
-the heart they reach. Ah, well may we guard our lips so that none grieve
-in silence over words we have carelessly dropped. Well may we strive to
-scatter loving, cheering, encouraging words, to soothe the weary, and
-awaken the nobler, finer feelings of those with whom we daily come in
-contact.
-
-The happiness, also, of life is largely composed of trifles. The
-occasions of great joys, like those of great sorrows, are few and far
-between, but every day brings us much of good if we will but gather it.
-"One principal reason," says Jeremy Bentham, "why our existence has so
-much less of happiness crowded into it than is accessible to us, is that
-we neglect to gather up those minute particles of pleasure which every
-moment offers for our acceptance. In striving after a sum total, we
-forget the ciphers of which it is composed; struggling against
-inevitable results which he can not control, too often man is heedless
-of those accessible pleasures whose amount is by no means inconsiderable
-when collected together; stretching out his hands to catch the stars,
-man forgets the flowers at his feet, so beautiful, so fragrant, so
-multitudinous, so various."
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: LEISURE.]
-
- "Time _was_ is past—thou canst not it recall;
- Time _is_ thou hast—employ the portion small;
- Time _future_ is not, and may never be;
- Time _present_ is the only time for thee."
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Spare moments are the gold-dust of time—the portion of life most
-fruitful in good or evil. When gathered up and pressed into use
-important results flow from thence; when neglected they are gaps through
-which temptation finds a ready entrance. They are a treasure when
-rightly used, but a terrible curse when abused. There are three
-obligations resting upon us in regard to the use and application of
-time. There is the duty to ourselves, in the care of our happiness, our
-improvement, and providing for our necessities; the duty to those
-dependent upon ourselves, and to society; and, lastly, our
-accountability to God, who bestows upon us this valuable gift, not
-without its being accompanied with the greatest inducements and the
-strongest and most cogent motives to improve it to advantage in these
-different respects.
-
-A celebrated Italian was wont to call his time his estate; and it is
-true of this, as of other estates of which the young come into
-possession, that it is rarely prized till it is nearly squandered, and
-then, when life is fast waning, they begin to think of spending the
-hours wisely, and even of husbanding the moments. But habits of
-idleness, listlessness, and procrastination once firmly fixed can not be
-suddenly thrown off, and the man who has wasted the precious hours of
-life's seed-time finds that he can not reap a harvest in life's Autumn.
-The value of time is not realized. It is the most precious thing in all
-the world; the only thing of which it is a virtue to be covetous, and
-yet the only thing of which all men are prodigal. Time is so precious
-that there is never but one moment in the world at once, and that is
-always taken away before another is given.
-
-It is astonishing what can be done in any department of life when once
-the will is fired with a determination to use the leisure time rightly.
-Only take care to gather up your fragments of leisure time, and employ
-them judiciously, and you will find time for the accomplishment of
-almost any desired purpose. Men who have the highest ambition to
-accomplish something of importance in this life frequently complain of a
-lack of leisure. But the truth is, there is no condition in which the
-chances of accomplishing great results are less than in that of leisure.
-Life is composed of an elastic material, and wherever a solid piece of
-business is removed the surrounding atmosphere of trifles rushes in as
-certainly as the air into a bottle when you pour out its contents. If
-you would not have your hours of leisure frittered away on trifles you
-must guard it by barriers of resolution and precaution as strong as are
-needed for hours of study and business.
-
-The people who, in any community, have done the most for their own and
-the general good are not the wealthy, leisurely people who have nothing
-to do, but are almost uniformly the overworked class, who seem well-nigh
-swamped with cares, and are in a paroxysm of activity from January to
-December. Persons of this class have learned how to economize time, and,
-however crowded with business, are always found capable of doing a
-little more; and you may rely upon them in their busiest season with far
-more assurance than upon the idle man. It is much easier for one who is
-always exerting himself to exert himself a little more for an extra
-purpose than for him who does nothing to get up steam for the same end.
-Give a busy man ten minutes in which to write a letter, and he will dash
-it off at once; give an idle man a day, and he will put it off till
-to-morrow or next week. There is a momentum in an active man which of
-itself almost carries him to the mark, just as a very light stroke will
-keep a hoop going when a smart one was required to set it in motion.
-
-The men who do the greatest things achieved on this globe do them not so
-much by fitful efforts as by steady, unremitting toil—by turning even
-the moments to account. They have the genius of hard work—the most
-desirable kind of genius. The time men often waste in needless slumber,
-in lounging, or in idle visits, would enable them, were it employed, to
-execute undertakings which seem to their hurried and worried life to be
-impossible. Much may be done in those little shreds and patches of time
-which every day produces, and which most men throw away, but which,
-nevertheless, will make, at the end of life, no small deduction from the
-sum total.
-
-Time, like life, can never be recalled. It is the material out of which
-all great workers have secured a rich inheritance of thoughts and deeds
-for their successors. It has been written, "The hours perish, and are
-laid to our charge." How many of these there are upon the records of the
-past! How many hours wasted, worse than wasted in frivolous
-conversation, useless employment—hours of which we can give no account,
-and in which we benefited neither ourselves nor others! There are few
-such hours in the busiest lives, but they make up the whole sum in the
-lives of many. Many live without accomplishing any good; squander their
-time away in petty, trifling things, as if the only object in life were
-to kill time, as if the earth were not a place for probation, but our
-abiding residence. We do not value time as we should, but let many
-golden hours pass by unimproved. We loiter during the day-time of life,
-and ere we know it the night draws near "when no man can work." Oh,
-hours misspent and wasted! How we wish we could live them over again!
-
-It requires no small degree of effort to resolutely employ one's time so
-as to allow none of it to go to waste. There are a thousand causes
-tending to the loss of time, and any one who imagines that they would do
-great things if they only had leisure are mistaken. They can find time
-if they only set about doing it. Complain not, then, of your want of
-leisure. Rather thank God that you are not cursed with leisure, for a
-curse it is in nine cases out of ten. What, if to achieve some good work
-which you have deeply at heart, you can never command an entire month, a
-week, or even a day? Shall you, therefore, bid it an eternal adieu, and
-fold your arms in despair? The thought should only the more keenly spur
-you on to do what you can in this swiftly passing life of yours.
-Endeavor to compass its solution by gathering up the broken fragments of
-your time, rendered more precious by their brevity.
-
-Where they work much in gold the very dust of the room is carefully
-gathered up for the few grains of gold that may thus be saved. Learn
-from this the nobler economy of time. Glean up its golden dust,
-economize with tenfold care those raspings and parings of existence,
-those leavings of days and bits of hours, so valueless singly, so
-inestimable in the aggregate, and you will be rich in leisure. Rely upon
-it, if you are a miser of moments, if you hoard up and turn to account
-odd minutes and half-hours and unexpected holidays, the five-minute gaps
-while the table is spreading, your careful gleanings at the end of life
-will have formed a colossal and solid block of time, and you will die
-wealthier in good deeds harvested than thousands whose time is all their
-own.
-
-It has been written that "he who toys with time trifles with a frozen
-serpent, which afterwards turns upon the hand which indulged the sport,
-and inflicts a deadly wound." There are many persons who sadly realize
-this in their own lives. When age with its frosts of years has come
-their reflections can not be otherwise than of the saddest kind as they
-ponder over wasted time, the hours they spent in a worse than foolish
-manner. Death often touches with a terrible emphasis the value of time.
-But, alas! the lesson comes too late. It is for the living wisely to
-consider the end of their existence, to reflect on the possibilities of
-life, to resolve to waste no time in idleness, but to be up and doing in
-a manner befitting one who lives here a life preparatory simply to
-another and better existence.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: HAPPINESS.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Happiness is that single and glorious thing which is the very light and
-sun of the whole animated universe, and where she is not it were better
-that nothing should be. Without her wisdom is but a shadow, and virtue a
-name.
-
-It is in the pursuit of happiness that the energies of man are put
-forth. It matters not that we are generally disappointed in the ultimate
-results of our endeavors. Earthly happiness is a phantom of which we
-hear much, but see little, whose promises are constantly given and
-constantly broken, but as constantly believed. She cheats us with the
-sound instead of the substance, and with the blossom instead of the
-fruit. Anticipation is her herald, but disappointment is her companion.
-In the ideal scene every thing is painted in bright colors. There are no
-drawbacks, no disappointments, in that picture, but in the reality they
-are sure to appear. The anticipation of a pleasure may have lasted for
-weeks in the mind, and have been dwelt on in all the endless variety of
-possibilities, while the reality lasts but a short time. Hence the
-feeling of disappointment ensues. Hope immediately rallies the powers.
-We turn to new plans, and begin again the round of anticipation, ending
-in disappointments.
-
-Happiness is much like to-morrow—only one day from us, yet never
-arriving. It is, in a word, hope or anticipation. In this life we pursue
-it; in the future life we hope to overtake it. It is the experience of
-all that, having realized our hopes, of whatever nature they may be, we
-are not satisfied. And it is well for man that he is so constituted,
-since satisfaction would be a bar to future efforts. We at once form new
-plans, grander and more comprehensive in their scope; we renew the
-struggle, press forward to their accomplishment, finding pleasure in the
-pursuit, if not in the possession. Perhaps nothing more plainly shows
-the diversity of the human mind than the different methods employed in
-this pursuit. Some seek it in the acquisition of wealth; others, of
-power; others, of fame. Some, by plunging into society, endeavor, by a
-giddy round of pleasure, to catch the same evanescent shadow that others
-seek by a life of solitude. No class or race of people exist but that
-have some characteristic mode in which they trust to secure happiness.
-The savage seeks it in hunting and fishing, in barbarous warfare, or in
-the rude war dance. National peculiarities are strongly shown in their
-ideas of what constitutes happiness; the light-hearted nations of the
-sunny south differing in this respect from their more serious northern
-neighbors. To be happy is the summing up of all the ends and aims on
-earth. It is a noble desire, implanted in the human breast by the
-Creator for purposes known only to his wisdom.
-
-We talk of wealth, fame, and power as undeniable sources of enjoyment;
-and limited fortune, obscurity, and insignificance as incompatible with
-felicity. This is an instance of the remarkable distinction between
-theoretic conclusions and experience. However brilliant in speculation
-wealth, fame, and power are found in possession impotent to confer
-happiness. However decried in prospect limited fortune, obscurity, and
-insignificance are, by experience, found most friendly to real and
-lasting pleasure. It is not this or that or the other peculiar mode of
-life, nor in any particulars of outward circumstances, nor in any
-definite kind of labor or duty, that we may positively expect happiness.
-If we do we shall be disappointed, for it is not in our power to have
-things just our way, or to control our outward life just as we would.
-
-We live amid a multitude of influences we can not altogether control.
-Nor is it best we should. We must seek happiness in the right state of
-mind, in the legitimate labors, duties, and pleasures of life, and then
-we shall find what we seek, yet we may find it under very different
-circumstances from what we expected. It is much more equally divided
-than some of us imagine. One man may possess most of the materials, but
-little of the thing; another may possess much of the thing, but few of
-the materials. In this particular view happiness has been compared to
-the manna in the desert—"he that gathered much had nothing over, and he
-that gathered little had no lack." Therefore, to diminish envy, let us
-consider not what others possess, but what they enjoy.
-
-We may look for happiness in one direction, but find it in another, and
-sometimes where we expect the least we may find the most, and where we
-look for the most we shall find the least. We are shortsighted, and fail
-to see the ends of things. A great deal of the misery of life comes from
-this disposition to have things our own way, as though we could not be
-happy under any circumstances except those we have framed to meet our
-own wants. Circumstances are not half so essential to our happiness as
-most people imagine. A cabin is often the seat of more true happiness
-than a palace. Kings may bid higher for happiness than their subjects,
-but it is more apt to fall to the lot of the private citizen than the
-monarch. She sends to the palace her equipage, her pomp, and her train,
-but she herself is traveling _incognita_ to keep a private appointment
-with contentment, and to partake of a dinner of herbs in a cottage.
-
-The disposition to make the best of life is what we want to make us
-happy. Those who are so willful and seemingly perverse about their
-outward circumstances are often intensely affected by the merest
-trifles. A little thing shadows their life for days. The want of some
-convenience, some personal gratification, some outward form or ornament
-will blight a day's joy. They can often bear a great calamity better
-than a small disappointment, because they nerve themselves to meet the
-former, and yield to the latter without an effort to resist. Molehills
-are magnified into mountains, and in the shadow of these mountains they
-sit down and weep. The very things they ought to have sometimes come
-unasked, and because they are not ready for them they will not enjoy
-them, but rather make them the cause of misery. There is also a
-disposition in such minds to multiply their troubles as well as magnify
-them. They make troubles of many things which should really be regarded
-as privileges, opportunities for self-sacrifice, for culture, for
-improving effort. They make troubles of the ordinary allotments of life;
-its duties, charities, changes, unavoidable accidents, reverses, and
-experiences. This can be considered in no other light than morally
-wrong, for these common allotments and experiences were, beyond all
-question, ordained by infinite wisdom as a healthy discipline for the
-soul of man.
-
-Some spend life determined to be vastly happy at some future time, but
-for the present put off all enjoyment even of passing pleasures,
-seemingly for fear lest all such present comfort detracts from the sum
-total of future enjoyments. They, indeed, acquire wealth or fame or the
-outward surroundings of happiness; but, alas! too often the palmy days
-of life are gone, and the acquisitions from which they fondly hoped to
-gather much of human happiness form but the stately surroundings of real
-and heart-felt wretchedness. Happiness, then, should be as a modest
-mansion, which we can inhabit while we have our health and vigor to
-enjoy it; not a fabric so vast and expensive that it has cost us the
-best part of our lives to build it, and which we can enjoy only when we
-have less occasion for a habitation than for a tomb.
-
-Happiness is a mosaic composed of many small stones. Each taken apart
-and viewed singly may be of little value; but when all are grouped
-together, judiciously combined, and set they form a pleasing and
-graceful whole, a costly jewel. Trample not under foot, then, the little
-pleasures which a gracious Providence scatters in the daily path while
-in search after some great and exciting joy. Happiness, after all, is a
-state of the mind. It can not consist in things. It follows thence that
-in the right discipline of the mind is the secret of true happiness. In
-vain do they talk of happiness who never subdued an impulse in obedience
-to a principle. He who never sacrificed a present to a future good, or a
-personal to a general one, can speak of happiness only as the blind do
-of colors.
-
-The fountain of content must spring up in the mind, and he who seeks
-happiness by changing any thing but his own disposition will waste his
-life in fruitless efforts, and multiply the griefs which he seeks to
-remove. The trouble often is, we are too selfish, too unyielding in our
-arrangements for life's best good. Because we can not find happiness in
-our own way we will not accept it in its appointed way, and so make
-ourselves miserable. Some excellent people are very unhappy from a kind
-of stubborn adherence to their settled convictions of just what they
-must have and what they must do to be happy. They lose sight of the fact
-that God rules above them, and a thousand influences work around them,
-partly, at least, beyond their control. They have not determined to
-accept life cheerfully in whatever form it may come, and seek for good
-under all circumstances.
-
-We must seek for happiness in heaven-appointed ways, in study, duty,
-labor, exalted pleasures, with a constant effort to find it. We must
-seek it in domestic and business life, in the relations we hold to our
-fellow-men, and in the daily opportunities afforded us for discipline
-and self-sacrifice. If, then, you would be happy, possessing at least
-that measure of happiness which is vouchsafed to mortals, we must
-_intelligently_ seek happiness, not by way of impulse, not seeking
-selfishly our own good, but with a forgetfulness of self doing all the
-good we can, and with a thorough consecration of soul to the good of
-what we seek.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: TRUE NOBILITY.]
-
- "Greatness, thou gaudy torment of our souls,
- The wise man's fetters, and the rage of fools."
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-There is so much in this world that is artificial, so much that glitters
-in borrowed light, that it is not singular that moral greatness and
-nobility are often counterfeited by some baser metal—so much so that it
-is no slight task to discriminate rightly between the true and the
-false, and to determine wherein true nobility doth consist. When we
-carefully consider the nature of man we readily admit that it is in the
-possession of moral and intellectual powers that his superiority over
-the brute world consists.
-
-In the society of his fellow-men man ought not to be rated by his
-possessions, by his stores of gold, by his office of honor or trust;
-these are but temporary and accidental advantages, and the next turn of
-fortune may tear them from his grasp. The light of fame, though it
-shines with ever so clear a light, is able to dispel the darkness of
-death but a little ways. The greatest characters of antiquity are but
-little known. Curiosity follows them in vain, for the veil of oblivion
-successfully hides the greater portion of their lives.
-
-The world ofttimes knows nothing of its greatest men. Their lives were
-passed in obscurity, but real nobility of character was theirs, and this
-is nearly always unseen and unknown. He who in tattered garments toils
-on the way may, and often does, possess more real nobility of spirit
-than he who is driven past in a chariot. It is the mind that makes the
-heart rich; and as the sun breaks through the darkest clouds, so honor
-peereth in the meanest habit. Public martyrdom of every shade has a
-certain _éclat_ and popularity connected with it that will often bear
-men up to endure its trials with courage; but those who suffer alone,
-without sympathy, for truth or principle—those who, unnoticed by men,
-maintain their part, and, in obscurity and amid discouragement,
-patiently fulfill their trust—these are the real heroes of the age, and
-the suffering they bear is real greatness.
-
-It is refreshing to read the account of some of the truly great men and
-women, whose lives of usefulness have done much for the alleviation of
-the world's misery. And, after all, there is no true nobility except as
-it displays itself in good deeds. Says Matthew Henry: "Nothing can make
-a man truly great but being truly good, and partaking of God's
-holiness." That which constitutes human goodness, human greatness, and
-human nobleness is not the degree of enlightenment with which men pursue
-their own advantages, but it is self-forgetfulness, self-sacrifice, and
-the disregard of personal advantages, remote or contingent, because some
-other line of conduct is nearer right. The greatest man is he who
-chooses right with the most invincible resolution; who resists the
-sorest temptations from within and without; who bears the heaviest
-burdens cheerfully; who is calmest in storms, and most fearless under
-menaces and frowns.
-
-Some persons are great only in their ability to do evil. Such appears to
-have constituted the greatness of many of those individuals who drenched
-the world in blood that their ambition might be satisfied. They may
-possess the most astonishing mental qualities, yet may be overruled for
-evil instead of good. Men of the most brilliant qualities need only a
-due admixture of pride, ambition, and selfishness to be great only in
-evil ways. Energy without integrity of character and a soul of goodness
-may only represent the embodied principle of evil. But when the elements
-of character are brought into action by a determinate will, and
-influenced by high purposes, man enters upon, and courageously
-perseveres in, the path of duty at whatever cost of worldly interests,
-he may be said to approach the summit of his being—to possess true
-nobility of character; he is the embodiment of the highest idea of
-manliness.
-
-The life of such a man becomes repeated in the life and actions of
-others. He is just and upright in his business dealings, in his public
-actions, and in his family life. He will be honest in all things—in his
-works and in his words. He will be generous and merciful to his
-opponent—to those who are weaker as well as those stronger than
-himself. "The man of noble spirit converts all occurrences into
-experience, between which experience and his reason there is marriage,
-and the issue are his actions. He moves by affection, not for affection;
-he loves glory, scorns shame, and governeth and obeyeth with one
-countenance, for it comes from one consideration. Knowing reason to be
-no idle gift of nature he is the steersman of his own destiny. Truth is
-his goddess, and he takes pains to get her, not to look like her. Unto
-the society of men he is a sun whose clearness directs in a regular
-motion. He is the wise man's friend, the example of the indifferent, the
-medicine of the vicious. Thus time goeth not from him, but with him, and
-he feels age more by the strength of his soul than by the weakness of
-his body. Thus feels he no pain, but esteems all such things as friends
-that desire to file off his fetters and help him out of prison."
-
-True nobility of spirit is always modest in expression. The grace of an
-action is gone as soon as we are convinced that it was done only that
-third persons might applaud the act. But he who is truly great, and does
-good because it is his duty, is not at all anxious that others should
-witness his acts. His aim is to do good because it is right. His
-nobility does not show itself in waiting and watching for some chance to
-do a great good at once. Greatness can only be rightly estimated when
-minuteness is justly reverenced. Greatness is the aggregation of
-minuteness; nor can its sublimity be felt truthfully by any mind
-unaccustomed to the watching of what is least. His nobility consists in
-being great in little things. All the little details of life are
-attended to, and thus the soul is prepared for great ones. There is more
-true nobility in duty faithfully done than in any one great act when
-others are looking on and signifying their approval, and thus by their
-sympathy spurring the soul on to greater exertions.
-
-It is impossible to conceive of a truly great character, and not think
-of one imbued with the spirit of kindness. Nobility of spirit will not
-dwell with the haughty in manner. It delights to take up its abode with
-the generous and tender-hearted, those who seek to relieve the misery of
-others as they would their own. If you contrast the career of Napoleon
-Bonaparte and Florence Nightingale, though one filled all Europe with
-the terror of his name, doubt not that in the scale of moral greatness
-the latter far outweighs the former. Kindness is the most powerful
-instrument in the world to move men's hearts, and a word in kindness
-spoken will often do more for the furtherance of your cause than any
-amount of angry reasoning. Therefore, it is not singular that one whose
-whole life is spent in the exercise of kindness should possess a
-peculiar power over the lives of others—in effect, wield such an
-influence over them as marks him as one of the truly great.
-
-Nobility of character is also reverential. The possession of this
-quality marks the noblest and highest type of manhood and womanhood.
-Reverence for things consecrated by the homage of generations, for high
-objects, pure thoughts, and noble aims, for the great men of former
-times and the high-minded workers among our contemporaries. Reverence is
-alike indispensable to the happiness of individuals, of families, and of
-nations. Without it there can be no trust, no faith, no confidence,
-either in God or man—neither social peace nor social progress.
-Reverence is but another name for love, which binds men to each other,
-and all to God.
-
-The rewards of a life of moral greatness rests with posterity. Great men
-are like the oaks, under the branches of which men are happy in finding
-a refuge in times of storm and rain. But when the danger is past they
-take pleasure in cutting the bark and breaking the branches. As long as
-human nature is such a mass of contradictions this is not to be wondered
-at. But the influence of such men is ever working, and will sooner or
-later show itself. Men such as these are the true life-blood of the
-country to which they belong. They elevate and uphold it, fortify and
-ennoble it, and shed a glory over it by the example of life and
-character which they have bequeathed to it. "The names and manners of
-great men," says an able writer, "are the dowry of a nation." Whenever
-national life begins to quicken, the dead heroes rise in the memory of
-men. These men of noble principles are the salt of the earth. In death,
-as well as life, their example lives in their country, a stimulus and
-encouragement to all who have the soul to adopt it.
-
-Nobility of character is within the reach of all. It is the result of
-patient endeavors after a life of goodness, and, when acquired, can not
-be swept away unless by the consent of its possessor. Wealth may be lost
-by no fault of its possessor, but greatness of soul is an abiding
-quality. One may fail in his other aims; the many accidents of life may
-bring to naught his most patient endeavors after worldly fame or
-success; but he who strives for nobility of character will not fail of
-reward, if he but diligently seek the same by earnest resolve and
-patient labor. Is there not in this a lesson of patience for many who
-are almost weary of striving for better things? If success does not
-crown their ambitious efforts, will they not be sustained by the smile
-of an approving conscience? Strong in this, they can wait with patience
-till, in the fullness of time, their reward cometh.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: A GOOD NAME.]
-
- "He that filches from me my good name
- Robs me of that which ne'er enriches him,
- And makes me poor indeed."
-
- —SHAKESPEARE.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-A good name is the richest possession we have while living, and the best
-legacy we leave behind us when dead. It survives when we are no more; it
-endures when our bodies and the marbles which cover them have crumbled
-into dust. How can we obtain it? What means will secure it to us with
-the free consent of mankind and the acknowledged suffrages of the world?
-It is won by virtue, by skill, by industry, by patience and
-perseverance, and by humble and consistent trust and confidence in a
-high and overruling power. It is lost by folly, by ignorance, by
-ignominy and crime, by excessive ambition and avarice.
-
-That good name, which is to be chosen rather than great riches, does not
-depend on the variable and shifting wind of popular opinion. It is based
-on permanent excellence, and is as immutable as virtue and truth. It
-consists in a fair and unsullied reputation—a reputation formed under
-the influence of virtuous principles, and awarded to us, not by the
-ignorant and the vicious, but by the intelligent and the good.
-
-In such a name we look first of all for integrity, or an unbending
-regard to rectitude; we look for independence, or a determination to be
-governed by an enlightened consideration of truth and duty; for
-benevolence or a spirit of kindness and good-will toward men; and,
-finally, for a reverent regard for all moral qualities. These are the
-essential proper ties of a good character, the living, breathing
-lineaments of that good name which commends itself to the careful
-consideration of the truly good every-where.
-
-It is ever to be kept in mind that a good name is in all cases the fruit
-of personal exertions. It is not inherited from parents; it is not
-created by external advantages. It is no necessary appendage of birth or
-wealth or talents or station, but the result of one's own endeavors, the
-fruit and reward of good principles manifested in a course of virtuous
-and honorable actions. Hence the attainment of a good name, however
-humble the station, is within the reach of all. No young man is excluded
-from this invaluable boon. He has only to fix his eye on the prize, and
-to press toward it in a course of virtuous and useful conduct, and it is
-his. It may be said that in the formation of a good name personal
-exertion is the first, the second, and the last virtue. Nothing great or
-excellent can be acquired without it. All the virtues of which it is
-composed are the result of untiring application and industry. Nothing
-can be more fatal to the attainment of a good character than a
-confidence in external advantages. These, if not seconded by your own
-endeavors, will drop you midway, or perhaps you will not have started
-when the diligent traveler will have won the race.
-
-Life will inevitably take much of its shape and coloring from the
-plastic powers that operate in youth. Much will depend on taking a
-proper course at the outset of life. The principles then adopted and the
-habits then formed, whether good or bad, become a kind of second nature,
-fixed and permanent. The most critical period of life is that which
-elapses from fourteen to twenty-one years of age. More is done during
-this period to mold and settle the character of the future man than in
-all the other years of life. If a young man passes this period with pure
-morals and a fair reputation, a good name is almost sure to crown his
-years and to descend with him to the close of his days. On the other
-hand, if a young man in the Spring season of life neglects his mind and
-heart, if he indulges himself in vicious courses, and forms habits of
-inefficiency and slothfulness, he inflicts an injury on his good name
-which time will not efface, and brings a stain upon his character which
-no tears can wash away.
-
-The two most precious things this side the grave are our reputation and
-our life. But it is to be lamented that the most contemptible whisper
-may deprive us of the one and the weakest weapon of the other. A wise
-man, therefore, will be more anxious to deserve a fair reputation than
-to possess it; and this will teach him so to live as not to be afraid to
-die. A fair reputation, it should be remembered, is a plant delicate in
-its growth. It will not shoot up in a night, like the gourd that
-sheltered the prophet's head; but, like that gourd, it may perish in a
-night. A name which it has cost many years to establish is often
-destroyed in a single hour. A good name, like good-will, is gained by
-many actions, but lost by one.
-
-One of the most essential elements of a good name is the possession of
-good moral principles. Such principles fill the soul with the noblest
-views and the purest sentiments, and direct all the energies, desires,
-and purposes to their proper use and end. Such principles impart new
-light and vigor to the mind, and secure to its possessor a safe passage
-through all the temptations of the world to the abodes of eternal purity
-and blessedness. A character without fixed moral principles has
-impressed on it the deformity of a great and palpable defect. Whatever
-virtues it does not possess are like flowers planted in the snow or
-withered by the drought—wanting the life vigor and beauty which
-principles alone can impart. Lacking such principles one would in vain
-seek to acquire a good name. As well expect a vessel to traverse broad
-oceans to a destined harbor with no rudder whereby to control its
-course.
-
-Though a good name is won only by a life of constant activity and
-exertion, by self-denial, and an outflow of charity, yet its rewards are
-great and enduring, and to fail of its possession is to be without the
-best thing on earth. Without it gold has no value, birth no distinction,
-station no dignity, beauty no charms, age no reverence. Without it every
-treasure impoverishes, every grace deforms, every dignity degrades, and
-all the arts, the decorations, and accomplishments of life stand like
-the beacon blaze upon a rock, warning that its approach is dangerous,
-that its contact is death. He who has it not is under eternal
-quarantine—no friend to greet him, no home to harbor him. And in the
-midst of all that ambition can achieve, or avarice amass, or rapacity
-plunder, he feels himself alone, destitute of the sympathy of others.
-
-A good character is a sure protection against suspicion and evil
-reports. A man of bad or doubtful character is suspected of a thousand
-acts of which he may not be guilty. And if he does a good deed it is apt
-to be ascribed to a bad motive. He has lost the confidence of his
-fellow-men. They know him to be unprincipled and hollow-hearted, and are
-therefore ready to believe all the evil that is thought or said of him,
-but none of the good. On the other hand, a man of fair character, of
-tried and established reputation, stands out to the eyes of the public
-as one who is above suspicion, and above reproach. The envious may
-attempt to tarnish his fair name, but their efforts recoil upon their
-own heads. He is conscious of acting from correct principles, and being
-known to the public as a man of integrity and worth he need never give
-himself much concern as to any unfavorable reports that may be
-circulated respecting him. They acquit him without trial, and believe
-his innocence without the judgment of a court. Slander may, indeed, for
-a moment, fix its fangs on a spotless character, but such a character
-has within itself an antidote to the poison, and emerges from the
-temporary shadow with invigorated strength and heightened beauty.
-
-While a good name will secure for you the esteem and confidence of your
-fellow-men, how will it increase your capacity and extend the sphere of
-your usefulness! Who are the men whose friendship is most highly valued,
-whose opinions have greatest weight, whose patronage is most eagerly
-sought, and whose influence is most extensively sought in the country?
-Are they not men of principle—men of known worth and established
-reputation? A good name draws round its possessor warm friends, and
-opens for him a sure and easy way to wealth, to honor, and happiness.
-Reverse the picture, and think of the direful evils of a ruined
-character. It will expose you to a thousand painful suspicions and
-blasting reports; it will deprive you of all self-respect and peace of
-mind; it will exclude you from the confidence and esteem of your
-fellow-men, and bring upon you their neglect and contempt; it will cut
-you off from all means of usefulness, and degrade you to a mere cipher
-in society, rendering your ultimate success impossible.
-
-A good name is thus a protection against suspicion and evil reports; it
-is the source of the purest and most lasting enjoyment; it secures for
-us the esteem and confidence of our fellow-men; it increases the power
-and enlarges the sphere of our usefulness; it has the most direct and
-happy bearing on our success in life; it stands connected with the
-happiness of our families and friends, with the welfare of society; with
-the temporal and eternal happiness of thousands.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: MEDITATION.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Meditation is the soul's perspective glass, whereby, in her long
-removes, she discerns God as if he were near at hand. It is thinking,
-not growth, that makes the perfect man or woman. Hence life may be said
-to have commenced when the mind learns to meditate upon its nature, its
-powers, and its possibilities. This is the commencement of true
-soul-growth. To live without thought is not life; it is simple, barren
-existence. There is in youth a natural impulsiveness which is highly
-detrimental to their best interests. In itself this is not wrong; but
-personal usefulness depends upon its being controlled and brought into
-subjection to the judgment.
-
-The first and hardest lesson of life to learn is to subdue and chasten
-the inborn impulses of the soul. His soaring ambition, his reckless
-hopes, his daring courage must be held in check by the rein of sober
-sense. The curb and bit must be put on and drawn tightly, and this must
-be done by his own hand. In his hours of meditation he must form his
-plans, lay out his work, breathe his prayer for victory, and swear
-eternal fealty to his purpose of right. In the still chambers of thought
-he must rally his moral forces, pledge them to duty, and call aid from
-above in his solemn work. Others may assist him by encouragement, by
-advice and solemn warning; but the work is his own. If he has learned to
-think, he has within an element of safety found nowhere else.
-
-What can be more distasteful than the actions of impulsive people?
-To-day they are borne on the gale of the wildest pleasure—they are more
-giddy than the feather tossed in the breeze; to-morrow, in darkness of
-spirit, despairing and wretched, because their hot-brained fancies
-failed to give them peace and joy. To-day they thoughtlessly act as
-their impulses lead them; to-morrow they are full of regrets about the
-mistakes and blunders of yesterday. They give full vent to whatever
-impulsive feeling happens to come uppermost, changing more often than
-the wind, and reflecting as little upon their variations. It is the
-office of meditation to train and subdue these impulses.
-
-The fault is not in the joyousness of spirit which accompanies youthful
-action, but in the impulsiveness with which they are indulged. The
-feelings come forth as masters, whereas they should be servants,
-subdued, but joyous. They should be submissive and obedient children of
-the will, doing its dictates with alacrity and power. They should make
-the intellect more active, the affections more warm and deep, and the
-moral sense more varied and strong. The fruit of meditation is propriety
-of action. There is a simple and beautiful propriety, pleasing to all,
-which gives grace to the manners and loveliness to the whole being,
-which all should strive to possess. It is neither too grave nor too gay,
-too gleesome nor too sad, nor either of these at improper places. It is
-to be mirthful without being silly, joyous without being foolish, sober
-without being despondent, to speak plainly without giving offense, grave
-without casting a shadow over others.
-
-Meditation should sit on the throne of the mind as the counselor of the
-mental powers; and thus, by early habits of obedience, even the passions
-will become powers of noble import, contributing an energy and
-determination that will wrest victory out of every conflict and success
-out of every struggle. To secure this blessing, one must early learn to
-hold counsel within himself over every desire and impulse that rises
-within him, over every action of the soul, and see that at all times
-obedience is yielded to the dictates of this counsel. To be successful
-in this he must be always watchful, always guarded, always striving for
-the more perfect attainment of the great object before him.
-
-He who can not command his thoughts must not hope to control his
-actions. All mental superiority originates in habits of thought. Take
-away thought from the life of a man and what remains? You may glean
-knowledge by reading, but you must separate the chaff from the wheat by
-thinking. The value of our thoughts depend much upon the course they
-take, whether the subject in hand be examined fully and carefully, or
-only given an undecided glance, whence our thoughts revert to other
-matters to be treated in the same desultory way. Many minds from want of
-training can not really _think_. It is of great importance that right
-habits of thought be formed and fostered in early life. A person may
-see, hear, read, and learn whatever he pleases; but he will know very
-little beyond that which he has thought over and made the property of
-his mind.
-
-Become master of your thoughts so that you can command them at your
-pleasure. Whenever you read have your thoughts about you. Make careful
-observations as you pass along, and select subjects upon which your
-thoughts shall dwell when your book shall have been laid aside. He who
-reads only for present gratification, and neglects to digest what he
-reads, nor calls it up for future contemplation, will not be likely to
-ever know the extent of his own powers, for the best test calculated to
-make them known will remain unemployed. Consider the great field which
-is open before you. Into whichever department you take your way, you
-will be amazed at the magnitude and grandeur of the objects by which you
-are surrounded, and your mind will be filled with the most exalted
-conceptions of the goodness, wisdom, and power of the Creator.
-
-We can not guard too much against indulgence in thoughts, which, trivial
-as they may at first appear, would give a cast to our whole character
-should they become settled habits. Impure thoughts are seeds of sin. If
-dropped into the soil of the mind, they should be cast out immediately;
-otherwise they will germinate, spring up, and bear fruits of sinful
-words and acts. Few consider the power and magnitude of thought. Man is
-not as he seems, nor as he acts, but as he thinks. It is the thoughts of
-a man, and not his deeds, that are the true exponent of his character.
-Deeds make reputation, thought makes character. Deeds are the paper
-currency of thought stamped in the mint of purity. Thoughts surpass
-deeds in power and grandeur in the same ratio as character surpasses
-reputation.
-
-Many lives are wrecked through thoughtlessness alone. If you find
-yourself in low company do not sit carelessly by till you are gradually
-drawn into the whirlpool, but _think_ of the consequences of such a
-course. Rational thought will lead you to seek the society of your
-superiors, and you must improve by the association. A benevolent use of
-your example and influence for the elevation of the fallen is a noble
-thing. Even the most depraved are not beyond such help. But the young
-man of impressible character must at least think and beware lest he fall
-himself a victim. _Think_ before you touch the wine cup. Remember its
-effects upon thousands, and know that you are no stronger than they were
-in their youth. _Think_ before you allow angry passions to overcome your
-reason. It is thus that murder is wrought. _Think_ before, in a dark
-hour of temptation, you allow yourself to drift into crime. _Think_ well
-ere a lie or an oath passes your lips, for a man of pure speech only can
-merit respect. Think of things pure and lovely and of good report; think
-of God and of heaven, of life and duty, and your thoughts being thus
-elevating and inspiring, your life will be full of good deeds and
-pleasant memories.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: PRINCIPLES.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Our principles are the springs of our actions; our actions, the springs
-of our happiness or misery. Too much care, therefore, can not be taken
-in forming our principles. Men of genuine excellence in every station of
-life—men of industry, of integrity, of high principles, of sterling
-honesty of purpose—command the spontaneous homage of mankind. It is
-natural to believe in such men, to have confidence in them, and to
-imitate them. All that is good in the world is upheld by them, and
-without their presence in it, the world would scarcely be worth the
-living in.
-
-That young man is sure to become a worthless character and a pernicious
-member of society, who is loose in his principles and habits, who lives
-without plan and without object, spending his time in idleness and
-pleasure. He forgets his high destination as a rational, immortal being;
-he degrades himself to a level with the brute, and is not only
-disqualified for all the serious duties of life, but proves himself a
-nuisance and a curse to all with whom he is connected. Every
-unprincipled man is an enemy to society, and richly merits its
-condemnation. They are not respected, they are not patronized;
-confidence and support are withheld from them, and they are left,
-neglected and despised, to float down the stream of life.
-
-No young man can hope to rise in society, or act worthily his part in
-life, without a fair moral character. The basis of such a character is
-virtuous principles, or a deep, fixed sense of moral obligation. The man
-who possesses such character can be trusted. Integrity and justice are
-to him words of meaning, and he aims to exemplify the virtues they
-express in his outward life. Such a man has decision of character; he
-knows what is right, and is firm in doing it. He has independence of
-character; he thinks and acts for himself, and is not to be made a tool
-to serve the purpose of party. He has consistency of purpose, pursuing a
-straightforward course; and what he is to-day he will be to-morrow. Such
-a man has true worth of character, and his life is a blessing to
-himself, to his family, to society, and to the world. To have a
-character founded on good principles is the first and indispensable
-qualification of a good citizen. It imparts life and strength and beauty
-not only to individual character, but to all social institutions. It is,
-indeed, the dew and the rain that nourish the vine and the fig-tree by
-which we are shaded and refreshed.
-
-Deportment, honesty, caution, and a desire to do right, carried out in
-practice, are to human character what truth, reverence, and love are to
-religion. They are the constant elements of a good character. Let the
-vulgar and the degraded scoff at such virtues if they will, a strict,
-upright, onward course will evince to the world that there is more manly
-independence in one forgiving smile than in all their fictitious rules
-of honor. Virtue must have its admirers, and firmness of principle, both
-moral and religious, will ever command the proudest encomiums of the
-intelligent world. The auspicious bearing of such principles on the
-formation of your character and on your best interests can not be too
-highly estimated. These are the mainspring of purpose and action. Their
-formation can not be begun too early in life, since they will remain
-with you as long as you live, and exert a decisive influence on your
-condition of success or failure.
-
-There is no brighter jewel in any young man's character than to be
-firmly established on principles of unyielding rectitude. They change
-not with times and circumstances. They are the same yesterday, to-day,
-and forever. They extend their sway to all beings and to all classes, to
-the man of learning and the ignorant peasant, to the beggar and the
-prince; they are the bond of union and the source of blessedness to all
-subjects of God's empire. It is always easy to know what is right, but
-often difficult to decide what is best for our present interests or
-popularity. He who acts from false principles is often perplexed in
-deciding on any plan of action. He knows not what course to pursue, or
-how to avoid the difficulties that are ever thickening around him. His
-way is dark and crooked, and full of snares and pitfalls. But the way is
-light as day to him whose ruling principle is duty. He is not perplexed
-as to questions of interest or popularity.
-
-Such a man, whether rich or poor, has those solid and excellent traits
-of character which are certain to secure for him the esteem and
-confidence of all good men; and even those who are too weak to imitate
-his virtues are obliged to yield to him the secret homage of their
-respect. But the greatest boon of all is the self-respect he thus
-secures. He is not degraded in his own eyes by acting from unworthy and
-criminal motives. And it is only when once lost that you fully realize
-how valuable is this boon of self-respect. It is the fruit of exertion
-in right ways.
-
-There are false principles, to embrace which is certain defeat to hopes
-of future usefulness. There are some who make pleasure the aim of their
-lives, and who seem to live only for their own enjoyment. Man was made
-for action, for duty, and usefulness; and it is only when he lives in
-accordance with this great design of his being that he attains his
-highest dignity and truest happiness. To make pleasure his ultimate aim
-is certainly to fail of it. No matter what a young man's situation and
-prospects are—no matter if he is perfectly independent in his
-circumstances and heir to millions—he will certainly become a worthless
-character if he does not aim at something higher than his own selfish
-enjoyment. A life thus spent is a life lost. It is utterly inconsistent
-with all manliness of thought and action. It forms a character of
-effeminacy and feebleness, and entails on its possessor, not only the
-contempt of all worthy and good men, but embitters the decline of life
-with shame and self-reproach.
-
-Another principle of evil import is the love of money, which exerts a
-mighty and powerful influence over the children of men. When once the
-love of money becomes in any man a dominant principle of action there is
-an end of all hope of his ever attaining the true excellence of an
-intelligent moral being. Money is the supreme and governing motive of
-his conduct, and, where this is the case, it is not to be expected that
-a man will be very scrupulous as to the means of obtaining it. Put a
-piece of gold too close to the eye and it is large enough to blind you
-to home, to love, to death, and to heaven itself.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: OPPORTUNITY.]
-
- "There is a tide in the affairs of men,
- Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;
- Omitted, all the voyage of their life
- Is bound in shallows and in miseries."
-
- —SHAKESPEARE.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Many fail in life from the want, as they are too ready to suppose,
-of those great occasions wherein they might have shown their
-trustworthiness and their integrity. But in order to find whether a
-vessel be leaky we first prove it with water before we trust it with
-wine. The more minute and trivial opportunities of being just and
-upright are constantly occurring to every one. It is the proper
-employment of these smaller opportunities that occasion the great ones.
-It is one of the common mistakes of life, and one of the most radical
-sources of evil, to wait for opportunities. Many persons are looking for
-some marked event or some grand opening through which they hope to
-develop what may be in them, and thus make potent a character which now,
-for lack of motives, is barren and unfruitful.
-
-The real materials out of which our characters are forming are the
-hourly occurrences of every-day life. Every claim of duty, the
-employment of each minute, the daily vexations or trials we are called
-upon to bear, the momentary decisions that must be made, the casual
-interview, the contact with sin or sorrow in every-day dress—all, these
-and many others as small and as constant, are the real opportunities of
-life. These we are continually embracing or neglecting, and out of them
-we are forming a character that is fast consolidating into the shape we
-gave it for good or for evil. If we watch through a single day we shall
-doubtless discover hundreds of opportunities of both doing and receiving
-good that we have, perhaps, hitherto passed by with indifference, and by
-diligent assiduity in seeking for and embracing these we shall be
-prepared to encounter the fiercer storms of life that may await us, or
-to take advantage of future opportunities that may offer for our good.
-
-A man's opportunity usually has some relation to his ability. It is an
-opening for a man of his talents and means. It is an opening for him to
-use what he has faithfully and to the utmost. It requires toil,
-self-denial, faith. If he says, "I want a better opportunity than that;
-I am worthy of a higher position than that," or if he thinks the
-opportunity too insignificant to be embraced, he is very likely in after
-years to see the folly of his course. There are scores of young men all
-over the land who want to acquire wealth, and yet every day scorn such
-opportunities as our really rich men would have improved. They want to
-begin, not as others do, at the foot of the ladder, but half way up.
-They want somebody to give them a lift or to carry them up in a balloon,
-so that they can avoid the early and arduous struggles of the majority
-of those who have been successful.
-
-The most unsuccessful men are usually the ones who think they could do
-great things if they only had the opportunity. But something has always
-prevented them. Providence has hedged them in so that they could not
-carry out their plan. They knew just how to get rich, but they lacked
-opportunity. A man can not expect that great opportunities will meet him
-all along through his life like milestones by the wayside. Usually he
-has one or two; if he neglects them he is like the man who takes the
-wrong course where several meet. The farther he goes the worse he fares.
-In the life of the most unlucky persons there are always some occasions
-when by prompt and vigorous action he may win the thing he has at heart.
-"There is nobody," says a Roman cardinal, "whom fortune does not visit
-once in his life. But when she finds he is not ready to receive her, she
-goes in at the door and out through the window." Opportunity is coy. The
-careless, the slow, the unobservant, the lazy fail to see her, or clutch
-at her when she has gone. The sharp fellows detect her instantly, and
-seize her on the wing.
-
-It is ofttimes not sufficient to wait for opportunity, even though
-improved when it has come. We must not only strike the iron while it is
-hot, but make it hot by striking. In other words, if opportunity does
-not present herself we must try our best to compel her attendance.
-Opportunity is in respect to time in some sense as time is in respect to
-eternity; it is the small moment, the exact point, the critical minute
-on which every good work so much depends. Hesitation is in some
-instances a sign of weakness, and an exhibition of caution instead of an
-aid is a hinderance. At the critical moment there is no time for
-over-squeamishness; else the opportunity slips away beyond recall, even
-as the spoken word or the sped arrow. The period of life during which a
-man _must_ venture, if ever, is so limited that it is no bad rule to
-preach up the necessity in such instances of a little violence done to
-the feelings, and of efforts made in defiance of strict and sober
-calculation, rather than to pass one opportunity after another. It is
-not accident that helps a man in the world, but purpose and persistent
-industry. These make a man sharp to discover opportunities and to turn
-them to account. To the feeble, the sluggish and purposeless the
-happiest opportunities avail nothing. They pass them by, seeing no
-meaning in them. But to the energetic, wide-awake man they are occasions
-of great moment, the improvement of which contribute in no small degree
-to his ultimate success.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: DUTY.]
-
- "I slept, and dreamed that life was beauty;
- I woke, and found that life was duty."
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Duty rounds out the whole of life, from our entrance into it until our
-exit from it. There is the duty to superiors, to inferiors, to equals,
-to God and to man. Wherever there is power to use or to direct, there is
-a duty devolving upon us. Duty is a thing that is due and must be paid
-by every man who would avoid present discredit, and eventual moral
-insolvency. It is an obligation, a debt, which can only be discharged by
-voluntary effort and resolute action in the affairs of life. The abiding
-sense of duty is the very crown of character. It is the upholding law of
-man in his highest attitudes. Without it the individual totters and
-falls before the first puff of adversity or temptation; whereas,
-inspired by it, the weakest become strong and full of courage.
-
-"Duty," says Mrs. Jameson, "is the cement which binds the whole moral
-edifice together, without which all power, goodness, intellect, truth,
-happiness, love itself, can have no permanence, but all the fabric of
-existence crumble away from under us, and leave us at last sitting in
-the midst of a ruin, astonished at our own desolation." Take man from
-the lowest depths of poverty or from the downy beds of wealth, and you
-will find that to act well his part in life he must recognize and live
-up to the rule of duty. As the ship is safely guided across the ocean by
-a helm, so on the ocean of existence duty is the helm, without which
-life is lost. It is the lesson of history, no less than the experience
-of the present age, that an attention to duty in all of its details is
-the only sure road to real greatness, whether individual or national.
-
-Duty is based upon a sense of justice—justice inspired by love—which
-is the most perfect form of goodness. Duty is not a sentiment, but a
-principle pervading the life, and it exhibits itself in conduct and in
-action. Duty is above all consequences, and often, at a crisis of
-difficulty, commands us to throw them overboard. It commands us to look
-neither to the right nor to the left, but straight forward. Every signal
-act of duty is an act of faith. It is performed in the assurance that
-God will take care of the consequences, and will so order the course of
-the world that, whatever the immediate results may be, his word shall
-not return to him empty. The voice of conscience speaks in duty done,
-and without its regulating and controlling influence the brightest and
-greatest intellect may be merely as a light that leads astray.
-Conscience sets a man upon his feet, while his will holds him upright.
-Conscience is the moral governor of the heart, and only through its
-dominating influence can a noble and upright character be fully
-developed. That we ought to do an action is of itself a sufficient and
-ultimate answer to the question _why_ we should do it.
-
-The conscience may speak never so loudly, but without energetic will it
-may speak in vain. The will is free to choose between the right course
-and the wrong one; but the choice is nothing unless followed by
-immediate and decisive action. If the sense of duty be strong and the
-course of action clear, the courageous will, upheld by the conscience,
-enables a man to proceed on his course bravely, and to accomplish his
-purposes in the face of all opposition and difficulty; and should
-failure be the issue, there will remain at least the satisfaction that
-it has been in the cause of duty. There is a sublimity in conscious
-rectitude, a pleasure in the approval of one's own mind, in comparison
-with which the treasures of earth are not worth mentioning. The peace
-and happiness arising from this are above all change and beyond all
-decay. Disappointment and trials do but improve them; they go with us
-into all places and attend us through every changing scene of life. They
-sustain and delight at home and abroad, by day and by night, in solitude
-and in society, in sickness and in health, in time and eternity. All
-this is sure to be the reward of him who knows his duty and does it,
-regardless as to what others say or as to the immediate results flowing
-from thence.
-
-We all have good and bad in us. The good would do what it ought to do;
-the bad does what it can. The good dwells in the kingdom of duty; the
-bad sits on the throne of might. Duty is a loyal subject; might is a
-royal tyrant. Duty is the evangel of God that proclaims the acceptable
-year of the Lord; might is the scourge of the world that riots in
-carnage, groans, and blood. Duty gains its victories by peace; might
-conquers only by war. Duty is a moralist resting on principle; might is
-a worldling seeking for pleasure. These are the inward principles
-contending with each other in every human soul.
-
-To live truly and nobly is to act energetically. Life is a battle to be
-fought valiantly. Inspired by high and honorable resolves a man must
-stand to his post, and die there if necessary. Like the hero of old his
-determination should be "to dare nobly, to will strongly, and never to
-falter in the path of duty." It has been truly said that man's real
-greatness consists, not in seeking his own pleasure or fame, but that
-every man shall do his duty. What most stands in the way of the
-performance of duty is irresolution, weakness of purpose, and
-indecision. On the one side are conscience and the knowledge of good and
-evil; on the other are indolence, selfishness, and love of pleasure. The
-weak and ill-disciplined will may remained suspended for a time between
-these influences, but at length the balance inclines one way or another,
-as the voice of conscience is heeded or passed by. If its warning voice
-is unheeded the lower influence of selfishness will prevail; thus
-character is degraded, and manhood abdicates its throne as ruler, and
-sinks to the level of slave to the senses.
-
-Be not diverted from your duty by any idle reflections the silly world
-may make upon you. Their censures have no power over you, and,
-consequently, should not be any part of your concern. No man's spirits
-were ever hurt by doing his duty; on the contrary, one good action done,
-one temptation resisted and overcome, one sacrifice of desire or
-interest, purely for conscience's sake, will prove a cordial for weak
-souls most salutary for their real good; conducing not less to their
-present happiness and welfare than to their eternal and unending good.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: TRIALS.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Life, no matter in what aspects it has been presented before us, when we
-come to the reality, is full of pitfalls and entanglements, into which
-our unwary feet often stumble. Day after day, as we watch the different
-vicissitudes of life, we are reminded of the frailty of human hopes and
-aspirations. As the leaves of the tree, once flourishing, once verdant,
-lose their vitality and finally waste away, so it is with our desires
-and anticipations.
-
-In youth we look forward; the future appears calm and tranquil; as we
-approach manhood and womanhood life changes its appearance and becomes
-tempestuous and rough, as the ocean changes before the advancing storm.
-In the changes of real life joy and grief are never far apart. In the
-same street the shutters of one house are closed, while the curtains of
-the next are brushed by the passing dancers. A wedding party returns
-from church, and a funeral train leaves from the adjacent house.
-Gladness and sighs brighten and dim the mirror of daily life. Tears and
-laughter are twin-born. Like two children sleeping in one cradle, when
-one wakes and stirs the other wakes also.
-
-Be not dismayed at the trials of life; they are sent for your good. God
-knows what keys in the human soul to touch in order to draw out its
-sweetest and most perfect harmonies. These may be the strains of sadness
-and sorrow as well as the loftier notes of joy and gladness. Think not
-that uninterrupted joy is good. The sunshine lies upon the mountain top
-all day, and lingers there latest and longest at eventide. Yet is the
-valley green and fertile, while the peak is barren and unfruitful.
-
-Trials come in a thousand different forms, and as many avenues are open
-to their approach. They come with the warm throbbing of our youthful
-lives, keep pace with the measured tread of manhood's noon, and depart
-not from the descending footsteps of decrepitude and age. We may not
-hope to be entirely free from either disciplinary trials or the fiery
-darts of the enemy until we are through with life's burdens. Men may be
-so old that ambition has no charm, pleasures may pale on the senses, but
-they are never too old to experience trials.
-
-Life all sunshine without shade, all happiness without sorrow, all
-pleasure without pain, were not life at all—at least not human life.
-Take the life of the happiest. It is a tangled yarn. It is made up of
-joys and sorrows, and the joys are all the sweeter because of the
-sorrows. Even death itself makes life more loving; it binds us more
-closely together while living. The severer trials and hazardous
-enterprises of life call into exercise the latent faculties of the soul
-of man. They are for the purpose of putting his manhood to the test, and
-rouse in him strength, hardihood, and valor. They may be hard to take,
-though they strengthen the soul. Tonics are always bitter.
-
-Heaven, in its mercy, has placed the fountain of wisdom in the hidden
-and concealed depths of the soul, that the children of misfortune might
-seek and find in its healthful waters the antidote and cordial of their
-cares and calamities. Knowledge and sorrow are blended together, and as
-closely and inseparably so as ignorance and folly, and for reasons
-equally as salutary and just. Such is the established course of nature;
-such is her best and wisest law. When she leads us from what is
-frivolous and vain in the land of darkness, and brings us to the
-impressive and true in the land of light, the first act she performs is
-to remove the scales from our eyes that we may see and weep. We must
-first learn to mourn and feel before we can know and think. And the
-deeper we shall go into the depths below the higher shall we ascend into
-the heights above.
-
-Man is like a sword in a shop window. Men that look upon the perfect
-blade do not dream of the process by which it was completed. Man is a
-sword, daily life is the workshop, and God is the artificer, and the
-trials and sorrows of life the very things that fashion the man. We
-should remember when borne down by trials that they are sent to us only
-for our instructions, even as we darken the cages of our birds when we
-wish them to sing. Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls,
-the most massive characters are seamed with cares, martyrs have put on
-their coronation robes glittering with fire, and through tears many
-caught their first glimpse of heaven.
-
-Never meet trouble half-way, but let him have the whole walk for his
-pains. Perhaps he will give up his visit even in sight of your house. If
-misfortune comes be patient, and he will soon stalk out again, for he
-can not bear cheerful company. Do not think you are fated to be
-miserable, because you are disappointed in your expectation and baffled
-in your pursuits. Do not declare that God has forsaken you when your way
-is hedged about with thorns, when trials and troubles meet you on every
-side. No man's life is free from struggles and mortifications, not even
-the happiest; but every one may build up his own happiness by seeking
-mental pleasures, and thus making himself independent of outward
-fortune.
-
-The greatest misfortune of all is not to be able to bear misfortune. Not
-to feel misfortune is not the part of a mortal; but not to bear it is
-not becoming in a man. Calamity never leaves us where it finds us; it
-either softens or hardens the heart of its victim. Misfortune is never
-mournful to the soul that accepts it, for such do always see in every
-cloud an angel's face. Every man deems that he has precisely the trials
-and temptations which are the hardest of all others for him to bear.
-From the manner in which men bear their conditions we should ofttimes
-pity the prosperous and envy the unfortunate.
-
-The simplest and most obvious use of sorrow is to remind us of God. It
-would seem that a certain shock is needed to bring us in contact with
-reality. We are not conscious of breathing till obstruction makes it
-felt. So we are not conscious of the mighty cravings of our half divine
-humanity, we are not aware of the God within us, till some chasm yawns
-which must be filled, or till the rending asunder of our affection
-brings us to a consciousness of our need.
-
-To mourn without measure is folly; not to mourn at all is insensibility.
-God says to the fruit-tree bloom and bear, and to the human heart bear
-and bloom. The soul's great blooming is the flower of suffering. As the
-sun converts clouds into a glorious drapery, firing them with gorgeous
-hues, draping the whole horizon with its glorious costume, and writing
-victory along their front, so sometimes a radiant heart lets forth its
-hopes upon its sorrows, and all blackness flies, and troubles that
-trooped to appall seem to crowd around as a triumphant procession
-following the steps of a victor.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: SICKNESS.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Sickness takes us aside and sets us alone with God. We are taken into
-his private chamber, and there he converses with us face to face. The
-world is afar off, our relish for it is gone, and we are alone with Him.
-Many are the words of grace and truth which he then speaks to us. All
-our former props are struck away, and now we must lean on God alone. The
-things of earth are felt to be vanity. Man's sympathy deserts us. We are
-cast wholly upon God, that we may learn that his praise and his sympathy
-are enough.
-
-There is something in sickness that lowers the pride of manhood, that
-softens the heart, and brings it back to the feelings of infancy. Who
-that has languished, even in advanced life, in sickness, but has thought
-of the mother who watched over his childhood, who smoothed his pillow,
-and administered to his helplessness? When a man is laboring under the
-pain of any distemper, it is then that he recollects there is a God, and
-that he himself is but a man. No mortal is then the object of his envy,
-his admiration, or his contempt, and, having no malice to gratify, the
-tales of slander excite him not. But it unveils to him his own heart. It
-shows him the need there is for sympathy and love between man and man.
-Thus disease, opening our eyes to the realities of life, is an indirect
-blessing. One who has never known a day's illness is lacking in one
-department, at least, of moral culture. He has lost the greatest lesson
-of his life; he has missed the finest lecture in that great school of
-humanity, the sick chamber.
-
-Disease generally begins that equality which death completes. The
-distinctions which set one man so much above another are very little
-perceived in the gloom of a sick chamber, where it will be vain to
-expect entertainment from the gay or instruction from the wise; where
-all human glory is obliterated, the wit is clouded, the reasoner
-perplexed, and the hero subdued; where the highest and brightest of
-mortal beings finds nothing of real worth left him but the consciousness
-of innocence.
-
-Sickness brings a share of blessings with it. What stores of human love
-and sympathy it reveals! What constant, affectionate care is ours! what
-kindly greetings from friends and associates! This very loosening of our
-hold upon life calls out such wealth of human sympathy that life seems
-richer than before. Then, it teaches humility. Our absence is scarcely
-noticed. From the noisy, wrestling world we are separated completely;
-yet our place is filled, and all moves on without us. So we learn that
-when at last we shall sink forever beneath the waves of the sea of life,
-there will be but one ripple, and the current will move steadily on.
-
-It is on the bed of sickness that we fully realize the value of good
-health. The first wealth is health. Sickness is poor-spirited, and can
-not serve any one; but health is one of the greatest blessings we are
-capable of enjoying. Money can not buy it; therefore, value it, and be
-thankful for it. Health is above all gold and treasure. It enlarges the
-soul, and opens all its powers to receive instruction and to relish
-virtue. He that has health has but little more to wish for; and he that
-has it not, in the want of it wants every thing. It is beyond price,
-since it is by health that money is procured. Thousands, and even
-millions, are small recompense for the loss of health. Poverty is,
-indeed, an evil from which we naturally fly; but let us not run from one
-enemy to one still more implacable, which is assuredly the lot of those
-who exchange poverty for sickness, though accompanied by wealth.
-
-In no situation and under no circumstances does human character appear
-to better advantage than when watching by the side of sickness. The
-helplessness and weakness of the sick chamber makes a most effective
-appeal to the charity and natural kindness inherent in the hearts of
-all, even of the most degraded. Thus it appears that sickness is not
-only of discipline to the sick one, but it serves also to bring to a
-more perfect growth the flowers of charity and kindness in the hearts of
-those who care for the sick one.
-
-It is on the sick-bed that the heart learns most completely the value of
-self-examination. Life passes before the sick one as a gliding panorama.
-How strong are the resolutions formed for future guidance! And only God
-and the angels know how many lives have been turned from evil courses to
-the right, have been snatched as brands from the burning, who can date
-their progress in the good and true modes of living from some bed of
-sickness. Then, let us be patient in sickness. Let us turn it to account
-in the bettering of our hearts, and thus may we reap from seeming evil
-what will conduce in no small degree to our ultimate happiness.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: SORROW.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Sorrows gather around great souls as storms do around great mountains,
-but, like them, they break the storms and purify the air. Those who have
-suffered much are like those who know many languages—they have learned
-to understand and be understood by all.
-
-Sorrows sober us and make the mind genial. In sorrows we love and trust
-our friends more tenderly, and the dead become dearer to us. Just as the
-stars shine out in the night, so there are faces that look at us in our
-grief, though before they were fading from our recollections. Suffering!
-Let no man dread it too much, because it is better for him, and will
-help make him sure of being immortal. Just as it is only at night that
-other worlds are to be seen shining in the distance, so it is in
-sorrow—the night of the soul—that we see the farthest, and know
-ourselves natives of infinity, sons and daughters of immortality.
-
-The path of life meanders through a bright and beautiful world—a world
-where the fragrant flowers of friendship, nourished by the gentle dews
-of sympathy and the warm sunlight of affection, bloom in perennial
-beauty. But through this bright world there flows a stream whose turbid
-waters cross and recross the path of every pilgrim. It is the stream of
-human suffering. As the rose-tree is composed of the sweetest flowers
-and the sharpest thorns; as the heavens are sometimes overcast,
-alternately tempestuous and serene, so is the life of man intermingled
-with hopes and fears, with joy and sorrow, with pleasures, and with
-pains.
-
-Life is beset with unavoidable annoyances, vexatious cares, and
-harassing events. But we endure them—we strive to forget them—or, like
-the dustworn garment, or the soil on our shoes, we brush them off, and,
-if possible, scarcely bestow a thought on the trouble it requires. But
-when we have once been called upon to feel and undergo a great sorrow,
-to bend the back and bow the head, to endure the yoke and suffer the
-agony, to abide the pelting of the storm of adversity and sorrow, when
-few, perhaps none, sympathize with us—these are the days of anguish and
-of darkness, these the nights of desolation and despair; and when they
-have once come upon us with their appalling weight, their remorseless
-power, we can never be beguiled into a forgetfulness of them. The memory
-of them will endure as long as life shall last. We may again behold the
-beams of a cheerful sun throwing a delusive coloring over the landscape
-around us, but while our eyes may rest upon the lights they will dwell
-upon the shadows of the picture.
-
-"Time is the rider that breaks youth." To the young how bright the new
-world looks! how full of novelty! of enjoyment! of pleasure! But as
-years pass on they are found to abound in sorrowful scenes as well as
-those pleasant—scenes of toil, suffering, difficulty, perhaps
-misfortune and failure. Happy they who can pass through such trials with
-a firm mind and a pure heart, encountering trials with cheerfulness, and
-standing erect beneath even the heaviest burdens.
-
-Sorrow is the noblest of all discipline. Our nature shrinks from it, but
-it is not the less a discipline. It is a scourge, but there is healing
-in its stripes. It is a chalice, and the draught is bitter, but health
-proceeds from the bitterness. It is a crown of thorns, but it becomes a
-wreath of light on the brow which it has lacerated. It is a cross on
-which the spirit groans, but every Calvary has an Olivet. To every place
-of crucifixion there is likewise a place of ascension. The sun that is
-shrouded is unveiled, and the heavens open with hopes eternal to the
-soul which was nigh unto despair. Even in guilt sorrow has a sanctity
-within it. Place a bad man beside the death-bed, or the grave, where all
-that he loved is cold—we are moved, we are won, by his affection, and
-we find the divine spark yet alive, which no vice could quench.
-
-Christianity itself is a religion of sorrow. It was born in sorrow, in
-sorrow it was tried, and by sorrow it was made perfect. The Author of
-Christianity was a "man of sorrow and acquainted with grief." Sorrow is
-exalting, and a baptism of sorrow is awarded to every one who strives
-for the higher life. Since Christ wept over Jerusalem the best, the
-bravest, who have followed him in good will and good deeds have
-commenced their mission alike in suffering. Sorrow is not to be
-complained of; it is the passport by which we are to be made acceptable
-in that house where all tears shall be wiped away. It has power for
-good; it has joy within its gloom, and, though Christianity is a
-religion of trials and suffering, it is not less a religion of hope; it
-casts down in order to exalt, and if it tries the spirit by affliction
-it is to prepare it for a future great reward.
-
-All mankind must taste the cup which destiny has mixed, be it bitter or
-be it sweet. Be not impatient under suffering. It is for the correction
-of thy soul. It is better to suffer than to injure. It is better to
-suffer without a cause than that there should be cause for our
-suffering. By experiencing distress an arrogant insensibility of temper
-is most effectually corrected. Endeavor to extract a blessing from the
-remembrance of thy own sufferings. If so be that Providence has so
-ordered your life that you are not subject to much of the discipline of
-sorrow, strive to extract this discipline from the consideration of the
-lot of those less favored than you are. Step aside occasionally from the
-flowers and smooth paths which it is permitted you to walk in, in order
-to view the toilsome march of your fellow creatures through the thorny
-desert. The designed end of temporal afflictions is to cause men to
-consider their spiritual wants, and to seek the good of their higher
-natures.
-
-Often suffering not only fails to purify the soul from sin, but
-aggravates and intensifies its selfish and malignant passions. This is
-always the case where the heart fails to accept the lesson taught. By
-submission to sorrow the sweetest traits of character are developed, as
-some fruits are brought to perfection only by frost. Misfortune should
-act upon us or upon our feelings like fire upon old tenements, which are
-consumed only to be rebuilt with greater perfection. The winds of
-adversity sweep over the soul and scatter the fairest blossoms of hope.
-But the blossoms fall that the fruit may appear. So with us, when the
-flowers of hope are gone, there come the fruits of long-suffering,
-patience, faith, and love. Thus the darkest clouds which overhang human
-destiny may often appear the brightest to the angels who behold them
-with prophetic ken from heaven.
-
-The damps of Autumn sink into the leaves and prepare them for decay, and
-thus are we, insensibly perhaps, detached from our hold on life by the
-gentle pressure of recorded sorrows. Who is not familiar with the fact
-that life, which to the young promises so much, but to the middle-aged
-presents a stern reality, seems to the old as a day's labor now closing;
-and even as the laborer, worn by the burdens and heat of the day, looks
-forward to rest, so does the aged pilgrim, oppressed by the accumulated
-griefs and sorrows of a life-time, look forward to the rest of death?
-
-The first thing to be conquered in grief is the pleasure we feel in
-indulging it. Persons may acquire a morbid and unhealthy state of
-feeling on this subject, and by a constant giving way to feelings of
-grief become at last so constituted that on the slightest occasions they
-give way to apparently uncontrollable sorrow, converting thus what was
-intended as a means of discipline necessary to soul growth into an evil
-which contracts life. Remember, then, that in the matter of giving
-expression to sorrow self-control is no less necessary than in the other
-affairs of life. There is but one pardonable grief—that for the
-departed. This pleasing grief is but a variety of comfort, the sighs are
-but a mournful mode of loving them.
-
-There are sorrows too sacred to be babbled to the world, griefs which
-one would forbear to whisper even to a friend. Real sorrow is not
-clamorous. It seeks to shun every eye, and breathes in solitude and
-silence the sighs that come from the heart. Every heart has also its
-secret sorrows, of which the world knows nothing, and ofttimes we call a
-man cold when he is only sorrowful. Sorrow may be divided into two
-classes—that which really comes from the heart and is for the bettering
-of man, and that which comes from wounded selfishness, egotism, and
-pride. It is our duty to strive against giving vent to the latter kind
-of sorrow. It is, after all, only selfish in feeling and expression. It
-is the duty of all to cultivate cheerfulness of manner and disposition.
-Another hath said, "Give not thy mind to heaviness. The gladness of
-heart is the life of man, and the joyfulness of a man prolongeth his
-days. Remove sorrow far from thee, for sorrow hath killed many, and
-there is no profit therein; and carefulness bringeth age before the
-time."
-
-As limbs which are wrenched violently asunder do not bleed, so the
-sudden shocks of overwhelming sorrow are unrelieved by tears. The heart
-is benumbed. The eyes are dry, and the very fountain of feeling
-obstructed and stagnant. Our lighter afflictions find relief in
-lamentations and weeping, and the voice of sympathy and compassion
-brings some consolation and peace. But when the heart has been deeply
-and powerfully struck by some cruel blow of destiny, the intensity of
-suffering exceeds the bounds of sensibility and emotion.
-
-Those who work hard seldom yield themselves entirely up to real or
-fancied sorrow. When grief sits down, folds its hands, and mournfully
-feeds upon its own tears, weaving the dim shadows that a little exertion
-might sweep away into oblivion, the strong spirit is shorn of its might,
-and sorrow becomes our master. When sorrow, then, pours upon you,
-instead of giving way to it, rather seek by occupation to divert the
-dark waters that threaten to overwhelm you into the thousand channels
-which the duties of life always present. Before you dream of it those
-waters will fertilize the present and give birth to flowers that may
-brighten the future—flowers that will become pure and holy in the
-sunshine which illumes the path of duty, in spite of every obstacle.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: POVERTY.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-It can not be too often repeated that it is not the so-called blessings
-of life, its sunshine and calms, that makes men, but its rugged
-experiences, its storms, tempests, and trials. Early poverty,
-especially, is emphatically a blessing in disguise. The school of
-poverty graduates the ablest pupils. It does more, perhaps, than any
-thing else to develop the energetic, self-reliant traits of character,
-without which the highest ability makes but sorry work of life's
-battles. Thousands of men are bemoaning present indigence and obscurity
-who might have won riches and honor had they only been compelled by
-early poverty to develop their manhood. As well expect the oak to grow
-strong in the atmosphere of the hot-house as that man would reach his
-best estate surrounded from earliest years by the comforts and luxury of
-wealth.
-
-Many of the evils of poverty are imaginary, arising from mistaken
-notions we may entertain as to what constitutes happiness and comfort.
-There is not such a difference as some men imagine between the poor and
-the rich. In pomp, show, and opinion there is a great deal, but little
-as to the real pleasures and joys of life. No man is poor who does not
-think himself so. But if in a full fortune, with impatience he desires
-more, he proclaims his wants and his beggarly condition. We are more and
-more impressed that the poor are only they who feel poor. He whom we
-esteem wealthy in a true scale would perhaps be found very indigent. Of
-what avail the wealth of Crœsus if the heart feels pinched and poor?
-
-It is one of the mysteries of our life that genius, the noblest gift of
-God to man, is nourished by poverty. Its noblest works have been
-achieved by the sorrowing ones of the world in tears and despair. Not in
-the brilliant saloon, furnished with every comfort and elegance; not in
-the library, well-fitted, softly carpeted, and looking out upon a
-smooth, green lawn or a broad expanse of scenery; not in ease and
-competence,—is genius born and nurtured. More frequently in adversity
-and destitution, amidst the harassing cares of a straitened household,
-in bare and fireless garrets, is genius born and reared. This is its
-birthplace, and with such surroundings have men labored, studied, and
-trained themselves, until they have at last emanated out of the gloom of
-that obscurity, the shining lights of their time, and exercised an
-influence upon the thoughts of the world amounting to a species of
-intellectual legislation.
-
-If there is any thing in the world that a young man should be more
-grateful for than another, it is the poverty which necessitates his
-starting in life under very great disadvantages. Poverty is one of the
-best tests of human quality in existence. A triumph over it is like
-graduating with honor from West Point. It demonstrates stuff and
-stamina. It is a certificate of worthy labor faithfully performed. A
-young man who can not stand this test is not good for any thing. He can
-never rise above a drudge or a pauper. If he can not feel his will
-harden as the yoke of poverty presses upon him, and his pluck rise with
-every difficulty that poverty throws in his way, he may as well withdraw
-from the conflict, since his defeat is already assured. Poverty saves a
-thousand times more men than it ruins; for it only ruins those who are
-not worth saving, while it saves multitudes of those whom wealth would
-have ruined.
-
-It is of decided advantage for a man to be under the necessity of having
-to struggle with poverty, and conquer it. "He who has battled," says
-Carlyle, "were it only with poverty and toil, will be found stronger and
-more expert than he who could stay at home from the battle." It is not
-prosperity so much as adversity, not wealth so much as poverty, that
-stimulates the perseverance of strong and healthy natures, rouses their
-energy, and develops their character. Indeed, misfortune and poverty
-have frequently converted the indolent votary of society into a useful
-member of the community, and made him a moving power in the great
-workshop of the world, teaching men, and developing the powers which
-nature has bestowed on them.
-
-Poverty is the great test of civility and the touchstone of friendship.
-Amid the poverty and privation of the humblest homes are often found
-scenes of magnanimity and self-denial as utterly beyond the belief as it
-is the practices of the great and rich—acts of self-denial, kindness,
-and generosity, which borrow no support either from the gaze of the many
-or the admiration of the few, yet giving daily exhibitions of its
-strength and constancy. It is the great privilege of poverty to be happy
-and unenvied, to be healthy without physic, secure without a guard, and
-to obtain from the bounty of nature what the great and wealthy are
-compelled to procure by the help of art.
-
-Few are the real wants and necessities of mankind. Some men with
-thousands a year suffer more for want of means than others with only
-hundreds. The reason is found in the artificial wants of the former.
-Though his income is great his wants are still greater, and, as a
-consequence, his income is not equal to his outgo. There are many
-wealthy people who, of course, enjoy their wealth, but there are
-thousands who never know a moment's peace because they live above their
-means. He who earns but a dollar a day, and does not run in debt, is a
-happier man. The great secret of being solvent and well-to-do and
-comfortable is to get ahead of your expenses. Eat and drink this month
-what you earned last month, not what you are going to earn the next.
-
-Poverty may be a bitter draught, yet it often is a tonic, strengthening
-all the powers of manhood. Though the drinker makes a wry face there is,
-after all, a wholesome goodness in the cup. But debt, however
-courteously it may be offered, is the cup of a siren, and the wine,
-spiced and delicious though it be, is poison. The man out of debt,
-though with a flaw in his jerkin and a hole in his hat, is still the son
-of liberty, free as the singing bird above him; but the debtor, although
-clothed in the utmost bravery, what is he but a serf out upon a holiday?
-a slave to be reclaimed at every instant by his owner, the creditor?
-
-Poverty is never felt so severely as by those who have seen better days.
-The poverty of the poor has
-
-many elements of hardness, but it is endurable, and is developing their
-strength and endurance. The poverty of the formerly affluent is, indeed,
-hard; it avoids the light of the day and shuns the sympathy of those who
-would relieve its wants; it preys upon the heart and corrodes the mind;
-the sunshine of life is gone, and it requires a strong mind to
-resolutely set about to mend the impaired fortune.
-
-It is the misfortune of many young persons today that they begin life
-with too many advantages. Every possible want of their many-sided nature
-is supplied before it is consciously felt. Books, teachers, mental and
-religious training, lectures, amusements, clothes, and food, all of the
-best quality, and without stint in quantity—in short, the pick of the
-world's good things—and help of every kind are lavished upon them, till
-satiety results, and all ambition is extinguished. What motive has a
-young man for whom life is thus "thrice winnowed" to exert himself?
-Having supped full of life's sweets he finds them palling on his taste;
-having done nothing to earn its good things he can not appreciate their
-value. Like a hot-house plant, grown weak and spindling through too much
-shelter and watching, he needs nothing so much as to be set in the open
-air of the world, and to grow strong with struggling for existence.
-
-It is a fact that the working, successful men of to-day were once
-industrious, self-reliant boys. And the same thing will be repeated, for
-from the ranks of the hard-working, economical, temperate, and
-self-reliant boys of to-day will emanate the progressive, prominent men
-of the future. All boys should grow up strong as steel bars, fighting
-their way to an education, and then, when they are all ready, plunging
-into real life. The majority of the men of mark in this country are not
-the sons of those whose fathers could give them all they want, and much
-more than they should have, but are those who were brought up in
-cottages and cabins, cutting their way through difficulties on every
-side to their present commanding position.
-
-Of all poverty that of the mind is the most deplorable. And it is, at
-the same time, without excuse. Every one who wills it can lay in a rich
-store of mental wealth. The poor man's purse may be empty, but he has as
-much gold in the sunset, and as much silver in the moon, as any body.
-Wealth of heart is not dependent upon wealth of purse. Home comfort and
-happiness does not depend upon elegance of surroundings. But it is found
-in the spirit presiding over the household; this is the spirit of loving
-kindness, and is as apt to dwell with poverty as with wealth. Thus the
-evils of poverty are much exaggerated. And the evils, if evils they be,
-are, after all, for our own ultimate good.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: AFFLICTION.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-There is an elasticity to the human mind capable of bearing much, but
-which will not show itself until a certain weight of affliction be put
-upon it. "Fear not the darkness," saith the Persian proverb; "it
-conceals perhaps the springs of the water of life." Experience is often
-bitter, but wholesome. Only by its teachings can we learn to suffer and
-be strong. Character in its highest forms is disciplined by trial and
-made perfect through suffering. Even from the deepest sorrow the patient
-and thoughtful mind will gather a richer mead than pleasure ever
-yielded.
-
-[Illustration: BEREAVEMENT.]
-
-Think it not unkind when afflictions befall thee; it is all for the best
-that they are sent. God calls those whom he loveth, and why should he
-not claim his own jewels to shine in his house, though our own be made
-dreary? It may seem hard under such circumstances to say that it is "all
-for the best." The human heart is prone to give over to grief and
-lamentations; but wait, soon, when like the tired pilgrim thou shalt
-fall sick and weary, He will take you home to rejoice in finding friends
-from whom you have been separated. Then how true will be the saying that
-"it was all for the best!"
-
-Sad accidents and a state of affliction are a school of virtue. It
-reduces our spirits to soberness and our counsels to moderation; it
-corrects levity. God, who governs the world in mercy and wisdom, never
-would have suffered the virtuous ones to endure so many keen afflictions
-did he not intend that they should be the seminary of comfort, the
-nursery of virtue, the exercise of wisdom, and the trial of patience,
-the venturing for a crown and the gate of glory. Much of the most useful
-work done by men and women has been done amidst afflictions—sometimes
-as a relief from it, sometimes as a sense of duty overpowering personal
-sorrow.
-
-Adversity is the touch-stone of character. As some herbs need to be
-crushed to give forth their sweetest odors, so some natures need to be
-tried by suffering to evoke the excellence that is in them. Grief is a
-common bond that unites hearts. It can knit hearts closer than happiness
-can, and common sufferings are far stronger links than common joys. The
-visitations of sorrow are universal. There beats not a heart but that it
-has felt the force of affliction. There is not an eye but has witnessed
-many scenes of sorrow.
-
-They are always impaired by sorrow who are not thereby improved. Some
-natures are like grapes—the more they are downtrodden the richer
-tribute they supply. It may be affirmed substantially that good men reap
-more real benefit from their affliction than bad men do from their
-prosperities; for what they lose in wealth, pleasure, or honor they gain
-in wisdom and tranquillity of mind. "No creature would be more unhappy,"
-said Demetrius, "than a man who had never known affliction." The best
-need afflictions for the trial of their virtue. How can we exercise the
-grace of contentment if all things succeed well? or that of forgiveness
-if we have no enemies?
-
-At a superficial view it appears that adversity happens to all alike,
-without regard to rank or condition. The good are apparently as little
-favored by fortune in this respect as the bad, the high as the humble.
-People are continually rising and falling in all the grades of society.
-We often see men of high expectations suddenly cut down, and left to
-struggle with despair and ruin. If the happiness of mankind depended
-upon the caprice of fortune, their condition would be wretched. But it
-is possible to possess a mind which will not lose its tranquillity in
-the severest adversity, or at least such a one as, being disturbed and
-deprived of its wonted serenity by a sudden calamity, will recover in a
-short period, and assume its native buoyancy by the shock which it has
-experienced.
-
-How uncertain is human life! There is but a breath of air and a beat of
-a heart betwixt this world and the next. In the brief interval of
-painful and awful suspense, while we feel that death is present with us,
-we are powerless and he all powerful. The last faint pulsation here is
-but the prelude of endless joys hereafter. In the midst of the stunning
-calamity about to befall us, when death is in the family circle, and
-some loved one is about to be taken from us, we feel as if earth had no
-compensating good to mitigate the severity of our loss. But we forget
-that there is no grief without some beneficent provisions to soften its
-intensities. Thus in the presence of death there is also a consolation.
-Has the life been stormy? There is now rest; rest for the troubled heart
-and the weary head. And it can be known only by experience with what a
-longing many hearts thus look forward to the rest of death. Many whom
-the world regards as peculiarly blessed by Providence carry with them
-such corroding, anxious cares that it is with a feeling of relief that
-they contemplate the approach of death. To them death comes in its most
-beautiful form. He borrows the garb of gentle sleep, lays down his iron
-scepter, and his cold hand falls as warm as the hand of friendship over
-the weary heart now ceasing to beat.
-
-Grief or misfortune seems to be indispensable to the development of
-intelligence, energy, and virtue. The trials to which humanity are
-subject are necessary to draw them from their lethargy, to disclose
-their character. Afflictions even have the effect of eliciting talents
-which, in prosperous circumstances, would have lain dormant. Suffering,
-indeed, seems to have been as divinely appointed as joy, while it is
-much more influential as a discipline of character. Suffering may be the
-appointed means by which the highest nature of man is to be disciplined
-and developed. Sometimes a heart-break rouses an impassive nature to
-life. "What does he know," said a sage, "who has not suffered?"
-
-No soul is so obscure that God does not take thought for its schooling.
-The sun is the central light of the solar system; but it has a mission
-to the ripening corn and the purpling clusters on the vine, as well as
-the ponderous planet. The sunshine that comes filtering through the
-morning mists with healing on its wings, and charming all the birds to
-singing, should have also a message from God to sad hearts. No soul is
-so grief-laden that it may not be lifted to sources of heavenly comfort
-by recognizing the Divine love in the perpetual recurrence of earthly
-blessings.
-
-Afflictions sent by Providence must be submitted to in a humble spirit.
-Otherwise they will not conduce to lasting good. The same furnace that
-hardens clay liquefies gold; and the manifestation of Divine power
-Pharaoh found his punishment, but David his pardon. As the musician
-straineth at his strings, and yet breaketh none of them, but maketh
-thereby a sweeter melody and better concord, so God, through affliction,
-makes his own better unto the fruition and enjoyment of the life to
-come. Afflictions are the medicine of the mind. If they are not
-toothsome, let it suffice that they are wholesome. It is not required in
-physic that it should please, but that it should heal.
-
-Let one of our loved ones be taken away, and memory recalls a thousand
-sayings to regret. Death quickens recollection painfully. The grave can
-not hide the white face of the one who sleeps. The coffin and the green
-mound are cruel magnets. They draw us further than we would go. They
-force us to remember. A man never sees so far into human life as when he
-looks over a wife's or a mother's grave. His eyes get wondrous clear
-then, and he sees as never before what it is to love and be loved, what
-it is to injure the feelings of the beloved.
-
-When death comes into a household, we do not philosophize; we only feel.
-The eyes that are full of tears do not see, though, in the course of
-time, they come to see more clearly and brightly than those that have
-never known sorrow. Perhaps the heaviest affliction of life is that of
-the mother who has lost a child. As the waters roll in on shore with
-incessant throbs—not alone when storms prevail, but in calms as
-well—so it is with a mother's heart, bereaved of her children. Death
-always speaks with a voice of instruction and reproof; but when the
-first death happens in a home it speaks with a voice which scarcely any
-other form of tribulation can equal.
-
-Some of the saddest experiences of life come without premonition.
-Yesterday life went well; hope was in the ascendant; it was easy to be
-content. To-day all is reversed. The crushed heart can scarcely lift
-itself to pray; speech seems paralyzed. It seems cruel that such
-calamity should be permitted, when we might have been so happy. Was
-there not some way by which it could have been avoided? What are life's
-compensations now? What are its ambitions worth in the face of this? In
-a great affliction there is no light, either in the mind or in the sun;
-for when the inward light is fed with fragrant oil, there can be no
-darkness, though clouds should cover the sun. But when, like a sacred
-lamp in the temple, the inward light is quenched, there is no light
-outwardly, though a thousand suns should preside in the heavens.
-
-Why should body and soul be plunged into sorrow's dungeon when God sees
-fit to afflict? Is not the world as bright as of yore? Are there not
-still some happy phases to life's weary pilgrimage? We should not
-complain of oppression, but, with submission and love, perform the
-duties of life; and though sorrow and grief come, we must not let
-darkness obscure the talents which God has given to promote our own and
-others' happiness, or bury them with the brighter past, but nobly use
-them, and count all sorrow as naught in comparison with the future great
-reward of right actions. After this life of sorrow and pain, where we
-are continually weighed down with care, there is a home of perpetual
-rest, the streets of which are thronged with an angelic host, who, "with
-songs on their lips and with harps in their hands," tell neither the
-sorrow nor grief which perhaps wasted their lives. To bear the ills of
-life patiently is one of the noblest virtues, and one that requires as
-vigorous an exercise of the will as to resent the encroachments of wrong.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: DISAPPOINTMENTS.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-It is sometimes of God's mercy that men in the eager pursuit of
-ambitious plans are baffled; for they are very like a train on down
-grade—pulling on the brake is not pleasant, but it keeps the car on the
-track. We mount to heaven mostly on the ruins of our cherished schemes,
-finding in our failures our real successes.
-
-Disappointments seem to be the lot of man. From the little child with
-golden hair attempting to catch the glancing sunbeams to the old man
-who, with whitened locks and bent frame, pursues some scheme of wealth,
-disappointment is the almost inevitable consequence. Well it is for us
-that the future is veiled from our eyes, else we would weary of the
-trials and allurements that make up the sum of our existence. The child
-looks forward to manhood; his dreams are speculative; the man looks back
-to childhood, and thinks of the happy days of old. From the time he sits
-on his mother's knee, with the sunlight streaming in through the open
-window, until the last hours of life, when the sunlight glances in
-through closed shutters, he is playing with shadows.
-
-And one of the saddest thoughts that come to us in life is the thought
-that in this bright, beautiful, joy-giving world of ours there are so
-many shadowed lives. If disappointment came only to the lot of the
-sinning, even then we might drop a tear over him whose errors wrought
-their own recompense. But it is not so. The most pure lives are
-sometimes those that are the fullest of disappointments. With one it is
-the wreck of a great ambition. He has builded his ship, and launched it
-on the sea of life freighted with the richest jewels of his strength and
-manhood. Behold, it comes back to him beaten, battered, and torn by the
-fury of the gale—the wreck of a first trial.
-
-Many are disappointed because they do not look for happiness and success
-either in the right spirit or by the proper methods. There is a legend
-told of a knight who,—
-
- "In the brave days of old,"
-
-journeyed far away in search of the Holy Grail. He engaged in great
-pursuits. He sought the most arduous undertakings. But failing to seek
-in the right spirit his search and his efforts were in vain. At length,
-wearied and disappointed, he sought his native land. Here, in the work
-of daily, trifling duties, humbly seeking to do what was right, he
-unexpectedly found that for which he had so long searched. In life we
-all seek happiness and success. There is but one way in which we can
-succeed; when we admit that happiness is but a state of the mind, and
-that success is the faithful performance of known duties, then shall we
-acquire both. Though we may wander the wide world over, and gather
-wealth and fame, they will be found impotent to confer happiness, and
-life to us will seem full of disappointments; but it is so simply
-because we failed to seek for life in that spirit of quiet content which
-alone conducts us to its portals.
-
-It never yet happened to any man since the beginning of the world, nor
-ever will, to have all things according to his desires. And there never
-was any one yet to whom fortune was not at some time opposite and
-adverse. Those who risk nothing can, of course, lose nothing; sowing no
-hopes they can not suffer from the blight of disappointment. But let him
-who is enlisted for the war expect to meet the foe. It is with life's
-troubles as with the risks of the battle-field; there is always less of
-aggregate danger to the party who stands firm than to the one who gives
-way. To give way to disappointments is to invite defeat. To bravely cast
-about for means to resist them is to put them to flight, and out of
-temporary misfortune to lay the foundation of a more glorious success.
-Send disappointments to the winds; take life as it is, and, with a
-strong will, make it as near what it should be as possible.
-
-Dark and full of disappointments may be our lot, and we may not be able
-to fathom the reason for them; but if we can only bring ourselves to see
-that they are for our good, that we need their chastening influence, all
-will be well in the end. In the trials of life we must look more for
-consolation within than from without. The surest consolations of life
-are those which we thus derive from our own thoughts. For this end it
-matters not so much whether we spend time in study or toil; the thoughts
-of the mind should go out and reach after higher good. In this manner we
-may improve ourselves till our thoughts come to be sweet companions that
-shall lead us along the paths of virtue. Thus we may grow better within,
-whilst the cares of life, the losses and the disappointments lose their
-sharp thorns, and the journey of life be made comparatively pleasant and
-happy.
-
-It is generally known that he who expects much will be often
-disappointed; yet disappointment seldom cures us of expectations. It is
-human to err; so it is the lot of mortals to be disappointed, for never
-yet did error secure the end wished. It is, however, the better
-philosophy to take things calmly and endeavor to be content with our
-lot. We may at least add some rays of sunshine to our path if we
-earnestly endeavor to dispel the clouds of discontent that may arise in
-our bosom, and by so doing enjoy more fully the bountiful blessing that
-God gives to his humblest creatures. The great secret of avoiding
-disappointment is not to expect too much. Despair follows immoderate
-hopes, as the higher a body rises the heavier it falls to the ground.
-
-Time is the great consoler of the world, inasmuch as he heals our
-sorrows and trials. But time, in dashing to pieces our most cherished
-plans and brightest dreams, also brings us to many disappointments which
-in turn disappear with the passage of years. While sagacity contrives,
-patience matures, and labor industriously executes, disappointment
-laughs at the curious fabric formed by so many efforts and gay with so
-many brilliant colors, and when the artist imagines the work arrived at
-the moment of completion, brushes away the beautiful fabric, and leaves
-nothing behind.
-
-We thus see that life is, indeed, a variegated scene, full of trials and
-full of joys—bright dreams, some fulfilled, more disappointed. What is
-the lesson for us to learn from this? Perhaps the truest philosophy is
-not to expect much, to be moderate in our plans and hopes. In youth
-especially are we apt to be over sanguine. Reflect that life is full of
-disappointments, that it is vain for you to expect to escape them. But
-also learn to go forward with a brave face. You may fail, but from this
-failure you can organize future success. Because disappointed in one
-particular plan, it is no reason why you should abandon all plans, and
-settle down to the conviction that life itself is a failure. Show
-yourself a man, and rise superior to misfortune, and you will be
-rewarded by a final victory made more glorious by temporary
-discouragement, just as the sun bursting from behind the clouds lights
-up the landscape with a more glorious light because of the storms of the
-morning.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: FAILURE.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-It is a mistake to suppose that men succeed through success; they much
-oftener succeed through failure. By far the best experience of men,
-experience from which they gain the most of lasting value, is gathered
-from their failures in their dealings with others in the affairs of
-life. Such failures, for sensible men, incite to better self-management
-and greater tact and self-control, as a means of avoiding them in the
-future. Ask the successful business man, and he will tell you that he
-learned the secret of success through being baffled, defeated, thwarted,
-and circumvented, far more than from his successes. Precept, study,
-advice, and example could never have taught them so well as failure has
-done. It has disciplined and taught them what to do as well as what
-_not_ to do. And this latter is often of more importance than the
-former.
-
-Many have to make up their minds to encounter failure again and again
-before they finally succeed; but if they have pluck, the failure will
-only serve to rouse their energies, and stimulate them to renewed
-efforts. Failure in one direction has sometimes had the effect of
-forcing the far-seeing student to apply himself in another, which latter
-application has in many instances proven to be in just the line that
-they were fitted for. No one can tell how many of the world's most
-brilliant geniuses have succeeded because of their first failures.
-Failures in many instances are only means that Providence takes to work
-an otherwise too pliable disposition into one fitted to confront the
-stern duties of life. Even as steel is tempered by heat, and, through
-much hammering and changing of original form, is at last wrought into
-useful articles, so in the history of many men do we find that they were
-attempered in the furnace of trials and affliction, and only through
-failures in first attempts were at length fitted for the ultimate
-success that crowned their efforts.
-
-They are doubly in error who suffer themselves to give up the battle at
-one, or even two successive, failures. As in the military field he is
-the greater general who from defeat organizes ultimate victory, so in
-the battle of life he is the true hero who, even while smarting under
-the sting of present failure, lays his plans and summons his forces for
-a triumphant victory. We must not allow our jaundiced views to prevail
-over our knowledge of men and affairs. The world is not coming to an
-end, nor society going to destruction, because our petty plans have
-miscarried. The present failure should only teach you to be more wary in
-the future, and thus will you gather a rich harvest as the final outcome
-of your efforts.
-
-Above all, do not sink into apathy and despair. Rouse yourself, and do
-not allow your best years to slip past because you have not succeeded as
-you thought you would. Is not the sun as bright, nature as smiling as
-before? Why, then, do you go about as if all hope had fled? Know you not
-that
-
- "In the reproof of chance
- Lies the true proof of men."
-
-As in the physical world, disease is but the effort nature makes to
-remove some pressing evil, so failure should be but the methods whereby
-we are enabled to eliminate those traits of character which are a
-hindrance to our lasting success. As the inventor subjects his
-production to the most rigorous tests in order that inherent defects may
-become known and, if possible, remedied, even so does Providence, in
-subjecting us to great trials, discover to us by our failures wherein we
-lack; and we are remiss in duty to ourselves do we not most earnestly
-endeavor to improve by these tests?
-
-The man who never failed is a myth. Such a one never lived, and is never
-likely to. All success is a series of efforts in which, when closely
-viewed, are to be seen more or less failures. These efforts are ofttimes
-not visible to the naked eye, but each individual heart is painfully
-conscious of how many of its most cherished plans ended only in
-failures. If you fail now and then, do not be discouraged; bear in mind
-that it is only the part and experience of every successful man. We
-might even go farther, and say that the most successful men often have
-the most failures. These failures, which to the feeble are mere
-stumbling-blocks, to the strong serve to remove the scales from their
-eyes, so that they now see clearer, and go on their way with a firmer
-tread and a more determined mien, and compel life to yield to them its
-most enduring trophies.
-
-The weakling goes no farther than his first failure; he lags behind, and
-subsides into a life of discontent and vain regrets; and so by this
-winnowing process the number of the athletes is restricted to few, and
-there is clear space in the arena for those who determinedly press on.
-There can hardly be found a successful man who will not admit that he
-was made so by failure, and that what he once thought his hard fate was
-in reality his good fortune. Success can not be gained by a hop, skip,
-and a jump, but by arduous passages of gallant perseverance, toilsome
-efforts long sustained, and, most of all, by repeated failure; for the
-failures are but stepping-stones, or, at the worst, non-attainment of
-the desired end before the time.
-
-If success were to crown your efforts now, where would be the great
-success of the future? It is the brave resolution to do better next time
-that lays the substrata of all real greatness. Many a prominent
-reputation has been destroyed by early success. Too often the effect of
-such success is to sap the energies. Imagining fame or fortune to be
-won, future efforts are remitted; relying on the fame of past
-achievements, the fact is overlooked that it is labor alone that renders
-any success certain; and so by the remission of labor and energy,
-disgrace or failure awakens him from his delusive dreams; but, alas! in
-how many instances the awakening comes too late!
-
-There is no more prolific source of repining and discontent in life than
-that found in looking back upon past mistakes. We are fond of persuading
-ourselves and others that had others acted differently our whole course
-in life would have been one of unmixed success instead of the partial
-failure that it so often appears. If we would only look on past mistakes
-in the right spirit—in the spirit of humility, and with a desire to
-learn from past errors—it would be well; but the error men make in this
-review is in attributing the failures to circumstances instead of to
-character. They see the mistakes which lie on the surface, but fail to
-trace them back to the source from whence they spring. The truth is,
-that even trifling circumstances are the occasions for bringing out the
-predominant traits of character. They are tests of the nature and
-quality of the man rather than the causes of future success or failure.
-
-None can tell how weighty may be the results of even trivial actions,
-nor how much of the future is bound up in our every-day decisions.
-Chances are lost, opportunities wasted, advisers ill-chosen, and
-disastrous speculations undertaken, but there is nothing properly
-accidental in these steps. They are to be regarded as the results of
-unbalanced characters, as much as the cause of future misery. The
-disposition of mind that led to these errors would certainly, under
-other circumstances, have led to different, but not less lamentable
-results.
-
-We see clearly in judging others. We attribute their mischances without
-compunction to the faults we see in them, and sometimes even make cruel
-mistakes in our investigation; but in reviewing our own course self
-draws a veil over our imperfections, and we persuade ourselves that
-mistakes or unfortunate circumstances are the entire cause of all our
-misfortunes. It is true that no circumstances are always favorable, no
-training perfectly judicious, no friend wholly wise, yet he who is
-always shifting the blame of his failures upon these external causes is
-the very man who has the most reason to trace them to his own inherent
-weakness or demerits.
-
-It is questionable whether the habit of looking much at mistakes, even
-of our own, is a very profitable one. It might be rendered of use were
-we only to do so in the proper spirit. Certainly the practice of
-mourning over and bewailing them, and charging upon them all the evils
-that afflict us, is the most injurious to our future course, and the
-greatest hindrance to any real improvement of character. Acting from
-impulse, and not from reason, is one of the chief causes of these
-mistakes; and if any would avoid them in the future they must test all
-their sudden impulses by the searching and penetrating ordeal of their
-best judgment before acting upon them. Above all, the steady formation
-of virtuous habits, the subjection of all actions to principles rather
-than to policy, the firm and unyielding adherence to duty, as far as it
-is known, are the best safeguards against mistakes in life.
-
-Who lives that has not, during his life, aspired to something that he
-was unable to reach? The sorrows of mankind may all be traced to
-blighted hopes; like frost upon the green leaves comes the chilling
-conviction that our hopes are forever dead. We may live, but he who has
-placed his whole mind on the attainment of some object and fails to
-reach it, life to him seems a burden—a weary burden. To youth blighted
-hopes come like the cold dew of evening upon the flowers. The sun next
-morning banishes the dew, and the flower is brighter and purer from its
-momentary affliction. Sorrow purifies the heart of youth as the rain
-purifies the growing plant. But to the man of mature years the blighting
-of cherished hopes falls with a chilling effect. 'T is hard to proceed
-as though nothing had happened—to cheerfully take up life's load, yet
-such is the course of true manhood; this is the inheritance of life—the
-test of character.
-
-Our world presents a strangely different aspect according to the
-different moods in which it is viewed. To him whose efforts have been
-crowned with success it is superlatively beautiful; to him whose life
-has known no care it appears to be filled with all manner of comfortable
-things; to those who pine in sickness and suffering, the unfortunate,
-and those whose efforts have ended only in failure, it most truthfully
-seems to be "a vale of tears," and human life itself a bubble raised
-from those tears and inflated with sighs, which, after floating a little
-while, decked, it may be, with a few gaudy colors from the hand of
-fortune, is at last touched by the hand of death, and dissolves.
-
-He who has a stout heart will do stout-hearted actions—actions which,
-however unconscious the doer may be of the fact, can not fail to have
-something of immortality in their essence—something that in all coming
-time will preserve alive their memory long after the valiant doer has
-lain in dust. Such a man will not be daunted by difficulties. Opposition
-will but serve as fuel to the fire which feeds the spirit of
-self-reliance within him, stimulating him to still greater efforts, and,
-in fact, creating opportunities for them. And though, in the nature of
-things, failure must often be his portion, still they will nerve him
-anew for the struggles of active life, and endow him with courage to
-meet the further disappointments which past experience will have taught
-him are likely to be his lot.
-
-Neither will he, in his efforts to attain some great end, to bring to
-happy accomplishment some noble work, be daunted by the reflection that
-he can never be sure of success even in enterprises springing from the
-highest motives and steadfastly pursued at the cost of all that is
-dearest. To him it will suffice that the end he has in view is the right
-one, and that if he is not destined to accomplish it eventually it must
-triumph. With prophetic eye he looks forward to the dawning of the time
-when, long after he has been called hence, posterity shall enter into
-his labor and eat of the fruit of the tree that he has planted.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: DESPONDENCY.]
-
- "The darkest day,
- Live till to-morrow, will have passed away."
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-There are dark hours that mark the history of the brightest years. For
-not a whole month in any one of the thousand of the past, perhaps, has
-the sun shone brilliantly all the time. And there have been cold and
-stormy days in every year, and yet the mists and shadows of the darkest
-hours were dissipated and flitted heedlessly away. In the wide world
-also we have the overshadowing of dark hours. There were hours of
-despondency when Shakespeare thought himself no poet and Raphael no
-painter, when the greatest wits doubted the excellence of their happiest
-efforts.
-
-But we have also bright days to offset the sad ones. Though there are
-the dark ones, when the fire will neither burn on our hearths nor our
-hearts, and all without and within is dismal and dark, there come days
-when we rejoice in the brightness of hope and prosperity. It is human
-nature to look upon only the bright and cheery scenes of life, to forget
-its trials and storms in the light of the present. But let us not forget
-that there will come other moments, when the eye will be less calm, the
-cheek less bright, and the tongue less silent; the brain will be full of
-imaginings, pensive and sad, its inmost springs less elastic and
-buoyant.
-
-Despondency too long continued gives place to despair. No calamity can
-produce such a paralysis of the mind. It is the capstone of the climax
-of human misery. The mental powers are frozen with indifference, the
-heart becomes ossified with melancholy, the soul is shrouded in a cloud
-of gloom. No words of consolation, no cheerful repartee can break the
-death-like calm; no love can warm the pent-up heart, no sunbeam dispel
-the dark cloud. Time may effect a change; death will break the monotony.
-We can extend our kindness, but can not relieve the victim. We may trace
-the cause of this awful disease; God only can effect a cure. We may
-speculate upon its nature, but can not feel its force until its iron
-hand is laid upon us. We may call it weakness, but can not prove or
-demonstrate the proposition. We may call it folly, but can point to no
-frivolity to sustain our position. We may call it madness, but can
-discover no maniac action. We may call it stubborness, but can see no
-exhibition of indocility. We may call it lunacy, but can not perceive
-the incoherence of that unfortunate condition. We can properly call it
-nothing but dark, gloomy despair, an inexpressible numbness of all the
-sensibilities rendering a man happy.
-
-It is, indeed, a happy providence that has given to mankind the bright,
-shining sun of hope to dispel the gloom of despondency. We have all seen
-the sun burst from behind the clouds and light up a storm-swept
-landscape. Even so, when the hand of misfortune has darkened our
-brightest prospects and swept away our sunlit dreams of future
-happiness, has some unseen monitor inspired our drooping spirit with
-hope and bid us struggle on; and as we look forward into the future
-fancy points us to a brighter day's dawning. When the soul is often
-bowed down with the weight of its own sorrows and the heart is well-nigh
-crushed, even then some faint glimmering of a happier future steals upon
-it like a rainbow of light.
-
-It is to be feared that many do not as resolutely fight against fits of
-despondency as they might. Many fits of the blues need but to be
-resolutely contended against, and they will disappear; harbored, they
-will grow into despondency and despair. It is worth while to remember
-that fortune is like the skies in April, sometimes clouded and sometimes
-clear and favorable, and it would be folly to despair of again seeing
-the sun because to-day is stormy. So it is equally unwise to sink into
-despondency when fortune frowns, since in the common course of things
-she may be surely expected to smile again.
-
-Life is a warfare, and he who easily desponds deserts a double duty—he
-betrays the noblest property of man, his dauntless resolution, and he
-rejects the providence of God, who guides and rules the universe. There
-is but one way of looking at fate—whatever that may be, whether
-blessings or afflictions—to behave with dignity under both. We must not
-lose heart, or it will be the worse, both for ourselves and for those
-whom we love. To struggle, and again and again to renew the
-conflict—_this_ is life's inheritance.
-
-Do not, then, allow yourself to sink into despondency. Man is born a
-hero, and it is only by darkness and storms that heroism gains its
-greatest and best development and illustrations; then it kindles the
-black cloud into a blaze of glory, and the storm bears it to its
-destiny. Despair not, then. Mortifying failures may attend this effort
-and that one, but only be honest and struggle on, and it will all work
-out right in the end. Do not make the mistake, either, of supposing that
-despondency is a state of humility; on the contrary, it is the vexation
-and despair of a cowardly pride; nothing is worse; whether we stumble or
-whether we fall, we must only think of rising again, and going on in our
-course.
-
-Do your work, then; only let it be a noble one. Be faithful to your
-trust. If you have but one talent improve it; do not bury it in the
-earth because you have not ten. Toil steadily and hopefully on, for life
-is too short to admit of delay or despondency. Let those who are in
-sorrow remember that deliverance may be coming, though they see it not.
-Your days may wear more gold in the morning, and more at night, though
-the midday be full of snow. God may be gracious, though he comes to us
-robed in darkness and clothed in storms. It is a journey of release
-towards the Spring when Winter is coldest and darkest. Despondency is
-but the shadow of too much happiness thrown by our spirits upon the
-sunshiny side of life. Look up, and God will give you a song in your
-heart instead of a tear in your eye.
-
-Causeless depression of spirits is not to be reasoned with, nor can even
-David's harp charm it away by sweet discoursings. As well fight with the
-mists as with this shapeless, undefinable, yet all-beclouding,
-hopelessness. Yet we are familiar with many such instances in practical,
-every-day life. Many who have much to be thankful for are full of
-complaint. Such disposition is no less unfortunate than it is
-reprehensible. They make miserable not only their own life, but also the
-lives of those with whom they are in daily contact. No doubt the one
-given over to causeless melancholy feels a full weight of sorrow, and
-those who laugh at his grief, could they but experience it, would
-quickly be sobered into compassion. What is wanted is a firm reliance on
-Providence, and a determination to do your duty; then go forward bravely
-and cheerfully, resolutely fight against this disposition. Your life
-will be much happier.
-
-The trouble is, that many of us, when we are under any affliction, are
-troubled with a certain malicious melancholy. We only dwell and pore
-upon the sad and dark occurrences of Providence, but never take notice
-of the more benign and bright ones. Our way in this world is, like a
-walk under a row of trees, checkered with light and shade, and, because
-we can not all along walk in the sunshine, we, therefore, perversely fix
-upon the darker passages, and so lose all the comfort of the cheering
-ones. We are like froward children, who, if you take one of their
-playthings from them, throw away all the rest in spite. What a pitiable
-confession is this of human weakness! Let us, then, strive against such
-a spirit of despondency. Even when the way before us is both dark and
-dreary it still is worse than useless to give way to despondency. Think
-not that you are forsaken; you have much still to make life enjoyable.
-Energy and proper application may recover what you have lost; take
-heart; pluck up courage; give not over to despondency; by resolutely
-confronting the evils of life they will lose their force.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: FAITH.]
-
- "Faith is the subtle chain
- That binds us to the infinite; the voice
- Of a deep life within, that will remain
- Until we crowd it thence."
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Faith is the true prophet of the soul, and ever beholds a spiritual
-life, spiritual relations, labors, and joys. Its office is to teach man
-that he is a spiritual being, that he has an inward life enshrined in
-this material encasement—an immortal gem set now in an earthly casket.
-It assures man that he lives not for this life alone, but for another
-superior to this, more glorious and real. It teaches that God is a
-spirit, and seeks to worship him as such. It dignifies humanity with
-immortality. It dwells ever upon an unseen world, announcing always that
-unseen realities are eternal.
-
-A living, active faith is not only a necessity, if we would reap great
-good, but it is so founded on the nature of things that it is natural
-for men to have a faith in the promises of others. It is only from
-experience that the little child learns to distrust others. Then, there
-is the faith in one's own powers. This is as necessary a form of faith
-as any, and where not allowed to degenerate into egotism is a most
-beneficent form of faith. Its true foundation is the same as any faith;
-that is, reliance on God's promises. "As ye sow, so shall ye reap."
-Hence, relying on this, and putting forth the necessary exertions, why
-not confidently expect a fulfillment of the promise? This is the germ of
-all true self-reliance.
-
-A true faith we can somehow reach all through life, and it will bring to
-the soul a rich meed of consolation, even in the shades of life. We can
-cherish a sure hope about our future and the future of those that belong
-to us—a sunny, eager onlooking toward the fulfillment of all the
-promises God has written on our nature. We should have faith in the
-ultimate triumph of the good and the true. It is quite the fashion of
-the times to lament over the degeneracy of the present, and to think of
-the palmy day long since past. We have indeed read history to but little
-account do we not realize that the world is growing better, and feel
-confident of the ultimate triumph of the forces of good.
-
-Life grows darker as we go on, till only one pure light is left shining
-on it, and that is faith. Old age, like solitude and sorrow, has its
-revelations. It is then that we perceive the hollowness and emptiness of
-many of the bubbles we have been pursuing. Fortunate is he who in that
-hour can rest down on the promise of God with a steadfast faith. When in
-your last hour all faculty in your broken spirit shall fade away, and
-sink into inanity—imagination, thought, effort, enjoyment, all fade
-away—then will the flower of belief, which blossoms even in the night,
-remain to refresh you with its fragrance in the last darkness.
-
-Morality as a guiding light to man sometimes conduces to noble ends. It
-is sometimes so resplendent as to make a man walk through life amid
-glory and acclamation; but it is apt to burn very dimly and low when
-carried into the "valley of the shadow of death." But faith is like the
-evening star, shining into our souls, the more gloomy is the night of
-death in which they sink. Surrounded by friends and the comforts of
-life, morality appears sufficient; but when the storms of life blow upon
-us, then we see how necessary to us is a faith in God's Word and his
-promises. Its light only is capable of dispelling the gloom of our
-surroundings.
-
-Never yet did there exist a full faith which did not expand the
-intellect while it purified the heart, which did not multiply the aims
-and objects of the understanding while it fixed and simplified those of
-the desires and passions. Faith often builds in the dungeon and
-lazar-house its sublimest shrine, and up through roofs of stone, that
-shut out the eye of heaven, ascends the ladder of prayer, where the
-angels glide to and fro. Faith is the key that unlocks the cabinet of
-God's treasures, the messenger from the celestial world to bring all the
-supplies that we need. It converses with angels and antedates the hymns
-of glory. To every man this grace is certain that there are glories for
-him if he walks by faith and perseveres in duty. Faith is a homely,
-private capital, as there are public savings-banks and poor funds, out
-of which in times of need we can relieve the necessities of individuals;
-so here the faithful take their coin in peace.
-
-A Christian builds his fortitude on a better foundation than stoicism.
-He is pleased with every thing that happens, because he knows it could
-not have happened unless it first pleased God, and that which pleases
-him must be the best. He is assured that no new thing can befall him,
-and that he is in the hands of a Father who will prove him with no
-affliction that resignation can not conquer or that death can not cure.
-In the darkest night faith sees a star, in the times of greatest need
-finds a helping hand, and in the times of sorest trouble hears a
-sympathizing voice.
-
-Judge not a man by his outward manifestation of faith, for some there
-are who tremblingly reach out shaking hands to the guidance of faith;
-others who stoutly venture in the dark their human confidence, the
-leader which they mistake for faith; some whose hope totters upon
-crutches; others who stalk into futurity upon stilts. Faith is not an
-exotic that grows in but one clime. The snows of an eternal Winter can
-not quench its fire, neither can the glow of a tropical sun destroy its
-life and freshness. In the palace of the king or the hut of the peasant,
-in the homes of the rich or the cabins of the poor it emits its
-fragrance with equal powers to please. It is as necessary to the learned
-as to the ignorant, and comforts alike the declining years of the sage
-and him who never knew the value of education.
-
-As the flower is before the fruit, so is faith before good works. He who
-has strong faith will show his faith by his works. If he has faith in
-himself he shows it by ambitious plans, resolves, and endeavors. A true
-faith is necessary to enable us to make the most of life and its
-possibilities. We need a faith in our fellow-men. In all the ordinary
-business transactions we must exercise this virtue or accomplish
-nothing. Did you ever reflect what this world would be were all faith
-destroyed? Faith and confidence are synonymous terms. What a wilderness
-would this be were the confidence which exists between husband and wife
-destroyed or did not mutual confidence exist between the members of the
-same family circle! Home would cease to be home; family ties would prove
-to be bonds of straw; communities could not be held together; the vast
-fabric of society would dissolve, and smiling countries would once more
-be the abode of savages. Too great a confidence bespeaks a trusting
-simplicity suited only for childish years. But an utterly incredulous
-nature, refusing to believe unless supported by the evidence of his own
-senses, as certainly portrays the selfish, narrow, and bigoted nature as
-that fields of waving grain are proof positive of fertile soil, the
-shining sun, and the early and later rain.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: WORSHIP.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Prayer is the key to open the day, and the bolt to shut in the night.
-But as the sky drops the early dew and the evening dew upon the grass,
-yet it would not spring and grow green by that constant and double
-falling of the dew, unless some great shower at certain seasons did
-supply the rest, so the customary devotion of prayer twice a day is the
-falling of the early and the latter dew. But if you will increase and
-flourish in works of grace, empty the great clouds sometimes, and let
-fall in a full shower of prayer. Choose out seasons when prayer shall
-overflow like Jordan in times of harvest.
-
-Real inward devotion knows no prayer but that arising from the depths of
-its own feeling. Perfect prayer, without a spot or blemish, though not a
-word be spoken and no phrases known to mankind be uttered, always plucks
-the heart out of the earth, and moves it softly, like a censer, to and
-fro beneath the face of heaven. A good man's prayer will, from the
-deepest dungeon, climb heaven's height, and bring a blessing down.
-Prayer is the wing wherewith the soul flies to heaven, and meditation
-the eye wherewith we see God.
-
-He that acts toward men as if God saw him, and prays to God as if men
-heard him, although he may not obtain all that he asks, or succeed in
-all that he undertakes, will most probably deserve to do so; for, with
-respect to his actions toward men, however much he may fail with regard
-to others, yet if pure and good, with regard to himself and his highest
-interests they can not fail. And with respect to his prayers to God,
-though they can not make the Deity more _willing_ to give, yet they
-will, and must, make the suppliant more _worthy_ to receive.
-
-Between the humble and contrite heart and the Majesty of heaven there
-are no barriers. The only password is prayer. Prayer is a shield to the
-sword, a sacrifice to God, and a scourge to Satan. Prayer has a right to
-the word "ineffable." It is an hour of outpouring which words can not
-express—of that interior speech which we do not articulate even when we
-employ it. The very cry of distress is an involuntary appeal to that
-invisible Power whose aid the soul invokes. Our prayer and God's mercy
-are like two buckets in a well; while one ascends the other descends.
-
-For the most part, we should pray rather in aspiration than petition,
-rather by hoping than requesting; in which spirit, also, we may breathe
-a devout wish for a blessing on others upon occasions when it might be
-presumptuous to beg it. Prayer is not eloquence, but earnestness: not
-the definition of helplessness, but the feeling it; not figures of
-speech, but compunction of soul. When the heart is full, when bitter
-thoughts come crowding thickly up for utterance, and the poor common
-words of courtesy are such a very mockery, how much the bursting heart
-may relieve itself in prayer!
-
-The dullest observer must be sensible of the order and serenity
-prevalent in those households where the occasional exercise of a
-beautiful form of worship in the morning gives, as it were, the keynote
-to every temper for the day, and attunes every spirit to harmony. Family
-worship embodies a hallowing influence that pleads for its observance.
-It must needs be that trials will enter a household. The conflict of
-wishes, the clashing of views, and a thousand other causes, will ruffle
-the temper, and produce jar and friction in the machinery of the family.
-
-There is needed some daily agency that shall softly enfold the homestead
-with its hallowed, soothing power, and restore the fine harmonious play
-of its various parts. The father needs that which shall gently lift away
-from his thoughts the disquieting burden of his daily business; the
-mother, which will smooth down the fretting irritation of her unceasing
-toil and trial; and the child and domestic, that which shall neutralize
-the countless agencies of evil that ever beset them. And what so well
-adapted to do this as, when the day is done, to gather around the holy
-page, and pour a united supplication and acknowledgment to that
-sleepless Power whose protection and security are ever around their
-path, and who will bring all things at last into judgment?
-
-And when darker and sadder days begin to shadow the home, what can cheer
-and brighten the sinking heart so finely as this daily resort to the
-fatherly One, who can make the tears of the lowliest sorrow to be the
-seed-pearls of the brightest crown? The mind is thus expanded, the heart
-softened, sentiments refined, passions subdued, hopes elevated, and
-pursuits ennobled. The greatest want of our intellectual and moral
-nature is here met, and home education becomes impregnated with the
-spirit and elements of our preparation for eternity.
-
-The custom of having family prayers is held in honor wherever there is
-real Christian life, and it is the one thing which more than any other
-knits together the loose threads of a home, and unites its various
-members before God. The religious service in which parents, children,
-and friends daily join in praise and prayer is at once an acknowledgment
-of dependence on the Heavenly Father and a renewal of consecration to
-his work in the world. The Bible is read, the hymn is sung, the petition
-is offered, and unless all has been done as a mere formality and without
-hearty assent, those who have gathered at the family altar leave it
-helped, soothed, strengthened, and armored as they were not before they
-met there. The sick and the absent are remembered, the tempted and the
-tried are commended to God, and, as the Israelites in the desert were
-attended by the pillar and cloud, so in life's wilderness the family who
-inquire of the Lord are constantly overshadowed by his presence and
-love.
-
-We, ignorant of ourselves, may ask in prayer for what would be to our
-injury, which the Father denies as for our own good; so find we profit
-by losing of our prayers. Or we may even pray for trifles, without so
-much as a thought of the greatest blessings. And, with sorrow be it
-said, we are not ashamed many times to ask God for that which we should
-blush to own to our neighbors. It is by reason of the worthlessness of
-so many of our petitions that they remain unanswered. Good prayers never
-come creeping home. We are sure we shall receive either what we ask or
-what we should ask. Prayer is a study of truth, a sally of the soul into
-the infinite. No man ever prayed heartily without learning something.
-
-It is for the sake of man, not of God, that worship and prayer are
-required. Not that God may be rendered more gracious, but that man may
-be made better, that he may be confirmed in a proper sense of his
-dependent state, and acquire those pious and virtuous dispositions in
-which his highest improvement consists. When we pray for any virtues we
-should cultivate the virtue as well as pray for it. The form of your
-life, every petition to God, is a precept to man. Our thoughts, like the
-waters of the sea, when exhaled toward heaven lose all their bitterness
-and saltness, and sweeten into an amiable humanity, until they descend
-in gentle showers of love and kindness upon our fellow-men.
-
-God respecteth not the arithmetic of our prayers, how many they are; nor
-the rhetoric of our prayers, how neat they are; nor the geometry of our
-prayers, how long they are; nor the music prayers, how melodious they
-are; nor the logic prayers, how methodical they are: but the divinity of
-our prayers, how heart-sprung they are—not gifts, but graces prevail in
-prayer. We should pray with as much earnestness as those who expect
-every thing from God, and act with as much energy as those who expect
-every thing from themselves.
-
-It is possible to have a daily worship which shall be earnest,
-vivifying, tender and reverential, and yet a weariness to nobody. Only
-let the one who conducts it _mean_ toward the Father the sweet obedience
-of the grateful child, and maintain the attitude of one who goes about
-earthly affairs with a soul looking beyond and above them to the rest
-that remaineth in heaven. It is not every one who is able to pray in the
-hearing of others with ease. The timid tongue falters, and the thoughts
-struggle in vain for utterance. But who is there who can not read a
-psalm or a chapter or a cluster of verses, and kneeling repeat in
-accents of tender trust the Lord's prayer? When we think of it that
-includes every thing.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: RELIGION.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Religion is the moral link that binds man most closely with his God—the
-spiritual garden where the creature walks in companionship with his
-Maker. This sentiment is the highest that man is capable of cherishing,
-since it binds him to a being fitted as no other being is to impart to
-the soul the highest moral grandeur that created beings can enjoy. It is
-the upper window of the soul, which opens into the clear, radiant light
-of God's eternal home. Its influence in every department of the mind is
-salutary and holy; no faculty can rise to its most exalted state without
-the sanctifying power of this sentiment. Neglect it not; the highest
-beauties of your souls, the finishing touch of your character, the
-sweetest charm of your life, will be given by due attention to this,
-your first and last duty.
-
-If men have been termed pilgrims, and life a journey, then we may add
-that the Christian pilgrimage far surpasses all others in the following
-important particulars: In the goodness of the road; in the beauty of the
-prospect; in the excellence of the company, and in the rich rewards
-waiting the traveler at the journey's end. All who have been great and
-good without Christianity would have been much greater and better with
-it. True religion is the poetry of the heart; it has enchantment, useful
-to our manners; it gives us both happiness and virtue.
-
-True religion hath in it nothing weak, nothing sad, nothing constrained.
-It enlarges the heart, is simple, free, and attractive. It enables us to
-bear the sorrows of life, and it lessens the pangs of death. It is the
-coronet by token of which God makes you a princess in his family and an
-heir to his brightest glories, the sweetest pleasures, the noblest
-privileges, and the brightest honors of his kingdom. It is a star which
-beams the brighter in heaven the darker on earth grows the night.
-
-When the rising sun shed its rays on Memnon's statue it awakened music
-in the heart of stone. Religion does the same with nature. Without
-religion you are a wandering star. You are a voiceless bird. You are a
-motionless brook. The strings of your heart are not in tune with the
-chords which the Infinite hand sweeps as he evolves the music of the
-universe. Your being does not respond to the touch of Providence, and if
-beauty and truth and goodness come down to you like angels out of heaven
-and sing you their sweetest songs, you do not see their wings, nor
-recognize their home and parentage.
-
-True religion and virtue give a cheerful and happy turn to the mind,
-admit of all real joys, and even procure for us the highest pleasures.
-While it seems to have no other object than the felicity of another life
-it constitutes the chief happiness of the present. There are no
-principles but those of religion to be depended on in cases of real
-distress, and these are able to encounter the worst emergencies and to
-bear us up under all the changes and chances to which our life is
-subject. The difficulties of life teach us wisdom, its vainglories
-humility, its calumnies pity, its hopes resignation, its sufferings
-charity, its afflictions fortitude, its necessities prudence, its
-brevity the value of time, and its dangers and uncertainties a constant
-dependence upon a higher and all-protecting power.
-
-All natural results are spontaneous. The diamond sparkles without
-effort, and the flowers open naturally beneath the Summer rain. Religion
-is also a natural thing—as spontaneous as it is to weep, to love, or to
-rejoice. There is not a heart but has its moments of longing—yearning
-for something better, nobler, holier, than it knows now; this bespeaks
-the religious aspiration of every heart. Genius without religion is only
-a lamp on the outer gate of a palace. It may serve to cast a gleam of
-light on those that are without, while the inhabitant sits in darkness.
-
-Religion is not proved and established by logic. It is, of all the
-mysteries of nature and the human mind, the most mysterious and most
-inexplicable. It is of instinct, and not of reason. It is a matter of
-feeling, and not of opinion. Religion is placing the soul in harmony
-with God and his laws. God is the perfect supreme soul, and your souls
-are made in the image of his, and, like all created things, are subject
-to certain mutable laws. The transgression of these laws damages your
-souls—warps them, stunts their growth, outrages them.
-
-You can only be manly or attain to a manly growth by preserving your
-true relations and strict obedience to the laws of your being. God has
-given you appetites, and he meant that they should be to you a source of
-happiness, but always in a way which shall not interfere with your
-spiritual growth and development. He gave you desires for earthly
-happiness. He planted in you the love of human praise, enjoyment of
-society, the faculty of finding happiness in all of his works. He gave
-you his works to enjoy, but you can only enjoy them truly when you
-regard them as blessings from the great Giver to feed, and not starve,
-your higher nature. There is not a true joy in life which you are
-required to deprive yourself of in being faithful to him and his laws.
-Without obedience to law your soul can not be healthful, and it is only
-to a healthful soul that pleasure comes with its natural, its divine,
-aroma.
-
-Some well-meaning Christians tremble for their salvation, because they
-have never gone through that valley of tears and of sorrow which they
-have been taught to consider as an ordeal that must be passed through
-before they can arrive at regeneration. We can but think that such souls
-mistake the nature of religion. The slightest sorrow for sins is
-sufficient if it produces amendment, but the greatest is insufficient if
-it do not. By their own fruits let them prove themselves, for some soils
-will take the good seed without being watered by tears or harrowed up by
-afflictions.
-
-There are three modes of bearing the ills of life—by indifference,
-which is the most common; by philosophy, which is the most ostentatious;
-and by religion, which is the most effectual. It has been said,
-"Philosophy readily triumphs over past or future evils, but that present
-evils triumph over philosophy." Philosophy is a goddess whose head is,
-indeed, in heaven, but whose feet are upon earth; attempts more than she
-accomplishes and promises more than she performs. She can teach us to
-hear of the calamities of others with magnanimity, but it is religion
-only that can teach us to bear our own with resignation.
-
-Whoever thinks of life as something that could exist in its best form
-without religion is in ignorance of both. Life and religion is one, or
-neither is any thing. Religion is the good to which all things tend;
-which gives to life all its importance, to eternity all its glory. Apart
-from religion man is a shadow, his very existence a riddle, and the
-stupendous scenes around him as incoherent and unmeaning as the leaves
-which the sibyl scattered in the wind.
-
-We are surrounded by motives to religion and devotion if we would but
-mind them. The poor are designed to excite our liberality, the miserable
-our pity, the sick our assistance, the ignorant our instruction, those
-that are fallen our helping hand. In those who are vain we see the
-vanity of the world, in those who are wicked our own frailty. When we
-see good men rewarded it confirms our hopes, and when evil men are
-punished it excites our fears. He that grows old without religious
-hopes, as he declines into age, and feels pains and sorrows incessantly
-crowding him, falls into a gulf of misery, in which every reflection
-must plague him deeper and deeper.
-
-It is the property of the religious spirit to be the most refining of
-all influences. It has been termed the social religion, and society is
-as properly the sphere of all its duties, privileges, and enjoyments as
-the ecliptic is the course of the earth. No external advantage, no
-culture of the tastes, no habit of command, no association with the
-elegant, or even depths of affection can bestow, that delicacy and that
-grandeur of bearing which belong only to the mind which has experienced
-the discipline of religious thought and feeling. All else, all
-superficial aids to etiquette, manner, and refinement as expressed in
-look and gesture, is but as gilt and cosmetic.
-
-Your personal value depends entirely upon your possession of religion.
-You are worth to yourself what you are capable of enjoying, you are
-worth to society the happiness you are capable of imparting. A man whose
-aims are low, whose motives are selfish, who has in his heart no
-adoration of God, whose will is not subordinate to the supreme will, who
-has no hope, no tenable faith in a happy immortality, no strong-armed
-trust that with his soul it shall be well in all the future, can not be
-worth very much to himself. Neither can such a man be worth very much to
-society, because he has not that to bestow which society most needs for
-its prosperity and happiness.
-
-Christianity teaches the beauty and dignity of common and private life.
-It makes it valuable, not for the cares from which it frees us, but for
-the constant duties through which we may train the soul to perfect
-sympathy with the design of the Creator. It shows that the humblest lot
-possesses opportunities which require the energies of the most exalted
-virtues to meet and satisfy. It impresses upon us the solemn truth that
-life itself, however humble its condition, is always holy; that every
-moment has its duty and its responsibility, which Christian strength
-alone, the crown of power, can do and bear. It teaches that the simplest
-experience may become radiant with a heavenly beauty when hallowed by a
-spirit of constant love to God and man.
-
-Another of the lessons of Christianity is that of the inestimable worth
-of common duties as manifesting the greatest principles. It bids us to
-attain perfection, not striving to do dazzling deeds, but by making our
-experience divine. It shows us that the Christian hero will ennoble the
-humblest field of labor, that nothing is mean which can be performed as
-a duty, but that religion, like the touch of Midas, converts the
-humblest call of duty into spiritual gold.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: GOD IN NATURE.]
-
- The day is Thine, the night also is Thine;
- Thou hast prepared the light and the sun;
- Thou hast set all the borders of the earth;
- Thou hast made Summer and Winter.
-
- —PSALMS.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-The height of the heavens should remind us of the infinite distance
-between us and God, the brightness of the firmament of his glory,
-majesty, and holiness, the vastness of the heavens and their influence
-upon the earth, of his immensity and universal providence. Hill and
-valley, seas and constellations are but stereotypes of divine ideas,
-appealing to and answered by the living soul of man. The works of nature
-and the works of revelation display religion to mankind in characters so
-large and visible that those who are not quite blind may in them see and
-read the first principles and most necessary parts of religion, and from
-thence penetrate into those infinite depths filled with the treasures of
-wisdom and knowledge.
-
-God writes the Gospel not in the Bible alone, but on trees and flowers
-and clouds and stars. All nature, in short, speaks in language plain to
-be understood of the majesty and power of its Author. Nature is man's
-religious book, with lessons for every day. Nature is the chart of God,
-marking out all his attributes. A man finds in the production of nature
-an inexhaustible stock of materials upon which he can employ himself
-without any temptation to envy or malevolence, and has always a certain
-prospect of discovering new reasons for adoring the sovereign Author of
-the universe. What profusion is there in his work! When trees blossom,
-there is not simply one, but a whole collection of gems; and of leaves,
-they have so many that they can throw them away to the winds all Summer
-long. What unnumbered cathedrals has he reared in the forest shades,
-vast and grand, full of curious carvings, and haunted evermore by
-tremulous music; and in the heavens above, how do stars seem to have
-flown out of his hand faster than sparks out of a mighty forge!
-
-These insignia of wisdom and power are impressed upon the works of God,
-which distinguishes them from the feeble imitation of men. Not only the
-splendor of the sun, but the glimmering light of the glow-worm, proclaim
-his glory. God has placed nature by the side of man as a friend, who
-remains always to guide and console him in life; as a protecting genius,
-who conducts him, as well as all species, to a harmonious unity with
-himself. The earth is the material bosom which bears all the races.
-Nature arouses man from the sleep in which he would remain without
-thought of himself, inspires him with noble designs, and preserves thus
-in humanity activity and life.
-
-The best of all books is the book of nature. It is full of variety,
-interest, novelty, and instruction. It is ever open before us. It
-invites us to read, and all that it requires of us is the will to do it;
-with eyes to see, with ears to hear, with hearts and souls to feel, and
-with minds and understandings to comprehend. Infinite intelligence was
-required to compose this mighty volume, which never fails to impart the
-highest wisdom to those who peruse it attentively and rightly, with
-willing hearts and humble minds. Nature has perfection, in order to show
-that she is the image of God; and defects, in order to show that she is
-only his image.
-
-The study of nature must ever lead to true religion; hence let there be
-no fear that the issues of natural science shall be skepticism or
-anarchy. Through all God's works there runs a beautiful harmony. The
-remotest truth in his universe is linked to that which lies nearest the
-throne. It has been said that "an undevout astronomer is mad." With
-still greater force might it be said that he who attentively studies
-nature and fails to see in her ways the workings of Providence must,
-indeed, be blind. Who the guide of nature, but only the God of nature?
-In him we live, move, and have our being. Those things which nature is
-said to do are by divine art performed, using nature as an instrument.
-Nor is there any such divine knowledge working in nature herself, but in
-the guide of nature's work.
-
-Examine what department of nature that we will, we are speedily
-convinced of an intelligent plan running throughout all the works, which
-eloquently proclaims a divine author. In the rock-ribbed strata of the
-earth we can read as intelligently as though it were written on
-parchment the story of the creation. And what so interesting as this
-rock-written history of the world slowly fitting for mankind? Read of
-the coal stored away for future use; of whole continents plowed by
-glaciers, and made fertile for man. Think of the æons of ages that this
-earth swung in space, all the types of creation prophecying of the
-coming of man! Who can ponder these o'er without coming to the belief of
-an author and finisher of all this glory? Thus does a devout study of
-nature discover to us the God of nature.
-
-Go stand upon the heights at Niagara, and listen in awe-struck silence
-to that boldest, most earnest, and most eloquent of all nature's
-oracles! And what is Niagara, with its plunging waters and its mighty
-roar, but the oracle of God—the whisper of his voice is revealed in the
-Bible as sitting above the waterfloods forever! Or view the stupendous
-scenery of Alpine countries, and there, amid rock and snow, overlooking
-the valleys below, we feel a sense of the presence of Divinity. Or,
-wandering on ocean beach, watching the play of the waves, or listening
-to the roar of the breakers, our hearts are impressed with a sense of
-the power and majesty of God. In short, wherever we contemplate the vast
-or wonderful in nature, there we experience a religious exaltation of
-spirit. It is the soul within us placing itself _en rapport_ with the
-soul of nature, the great first cause.
-
-Go stand upon the Areopagus of Athens, where Paul stood so long ago. In
-thoughtful silence look around upon the site of all that ancient
-greatness; look upward to those still glorious skies of Greece, and what
-conceptions of wisdom and power will all those memorable scenes of
-nature and art convey to your mind, now more than they did to an ancient
-worshiper of Jupiter and Apollo! They will tell of Him who made the
-worlds, "by whom, through whom, and for whom are all things." To you
-that landscape of exceeding beauty, so rich in the monuments of departed
-genius, with its distant classic mountains, its deep, blue sea, and its
-bright, bending skies will be telling a tale of glory that the Grecian
-never learned; for it will speak to you no more of its thousand
-contending deities, but of the one living and everlasting God.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: THE BIBLE.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-The Bible is a book whose words live in the ear like music that can
-never be forgotten, like the sound of church-bells, which the convert
-hardly knows how he can forego. Its felicities often seem to be things
-rather than mere words. It is a part of the national mind, and the
-anchor of national seriousness. The memory of the dead passes into it;
-the potent traditions of childhood are stereotyped in its verses. The
-power of all the griefs and trials of man is hidden beneath its words.
-It is the representative of his best moments, and all that has been
-around him of the highest and best speaks to him out of his Bible.
-
-The Bible is the oldest surviving monument of the springtime of the
-human intellect. It reveals to us the character and intellect of our
-great Creator and Final Judge. It opens before us the way of salvation
-through a Redeemer, unveils to our view the invisible world, and shows
-us the final destiny of our race. God's Word is, in fact, much like
-God's world, varied, very rich, very beautiful. You never know when you
-have exhausted all its merits. The Bible, like nature, has something for
-every class of minds. Look at the Bible in a new light, and straightway
-you see some new charm. The Bible goes equally to the cottage of the
-poor man and the palace of the king. It is woven into literature, and it
-colors the talk of the street. The bark of the merchant can not sail to
-sea without it. No ship of war goes to the conflict but the Bible is
-there. It enters men's closets, mingling in all the grief and
-cheerfulness of life.
-
-The Bible is adapted to every possible variety of taste, temperament,
-culture, and condition. It has strong reasoning for the intellectual. It
-takes the calm and contemplative to the well-balanced James, and the
-affectionate to the loving and beloved John. Not only is this book
-precious to the poor and unlearned, not only is it the consoler of the
-great middle class of society, both spiritually and mentally speaking,
-but the scholar and the sage, the intellectual monarch of the age, bow
-to its authority.
-
-To multitudes of our race it is not only the foundation of their
-religious faith, but it is their daily practical guide as well. It has
-taken hold of the world as no other book ever did. Not only is it read
-in all Christian pulpits, but it enters every habitation, from the
-palace to the cottage. It is the golden chain which binds hearts
-together at the marriage altar; it contains the sacred formula for the
-baptismal rite. It blends itself with our daily conversation, and is the
-silver thread of all our best reading, giving its hue, more or less
-distinctly, to book, periodical, and daily paper. On the seas it goes
-with the mariner as his spiritual chart and compass, and on the land it
-is to untold millions their pillar cloud by day and their fire column by
-night.
-
-In the closet and in the streets, amid temptation and trials, this is
-man's most faithful attendant and his strongest shield. It is our lamp
-through the dark valley, and the radiator of our best light from the
-solemn and unseen future. Stand before it as before a mirror, and you
-will see there not only your good traits, but your errors, follies, and
-sins, which you did not imagine were until you thus examined yourself.
-If you desire to make constant improvement, go to the Bible. It not only
-shows the way of all progress, but it incites you to go forward. It
-opens before you a path leading up and still onward, along which good
-angels will cheer you, and all that is good will lend you a helping
-hand.
-
-There is no book so well adapted to improve both the head and the heart
-as the Bible. It is a _tried_ book. Its utility is demonstrated by
-experience; its necessity is confessed by all who have studied the wants
-of human nature; it has wrung reluctant praise even from the lips of its
-foes. Other books bespeak their own age; the Bible was made for all
-ages. Uninspired authors speculate upon truths before made known, and
-often upon delusive imaginations; the Bible reveals truths before
-unknown, and otherwise unknowable. It is distinguished for its exact and
-universal truth. Time and criticism only illustrate and confirm its
-pages. Successive ages reveal nothing to change the Bible representations
-of God, nothing to correct the Bible representation of human nature.
-Passing events fulfill its prophecies, but fail to impeach its
-allegations.
-
-The Scriptures teach us the best way of living, the noblest way of
-suffering, and the most comfortable way of dying. A mind rightly
-disposed will easily discover the image of God's wisdom in the depths of
-its mysteries, the image of God's sovereignty in the commanding majesty
-of its style, the image of his unity in the wonderful harmony and
-symmetry of all its parts, the image of his holiness in the unspotted
-purity of its precepts, and the image of his goodness in the wonderful
-tendency of the whole to the welfare of mankind in both worlds. We
-should use the Scriptures not as an arsenal, to be resorted to only for
-arms and weapons, but as a matchless temple where we delight to
-contemplate the beauty, the symmetry, and the magnificence of the
-structure, and to increase our awe and excite our devotion to the Deity
-there proclaimed.
-
-The cheerless gloom which broods over the understandings of men had
-never been chased away but for the beams of a supernatural revelation.
-Men may look with an unfriendly eye on that system of truth which
-reproves and condemns them; but they little know the loss the world
-would sustain by subverting its foundations. We have tried paganism, we
-have tried Mohammedanism, we have tried Deism and philosophy, and we can
-not look upon them even with respect. The Scriptures contain the only
-system of truth which is left us. If we give up these, we have no others
-to which we can repair.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: FUTURE LIFE.]
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-There are two questions, one of which is the most important, the other
-the most interesting that can be proposed in language: Are we to live
-after death? and if we are, in what state? These are questions confined
-to no climate, creed, or community. The savage is as deeply interested
-in them as the sage, and they are of equal import under every meridian
-where there are men.
-
-Among the most effectual and most beautiful modes of reasoning that the
-universe affords for the hope that is within us of a life beyond the
-tomb there is none more beautiful or exquisite than that derived from
-the change of the seasons, from the second life that bursts forth in
-Spring in objects apparently dead, and from the shadowing forth in the
-renovation of every thing around us of that destiny which divine
-revelation calls upon our faith to believe shall be ours. The trees that
-have faded and remained dark and gray through the long, dreary life of
-Winter clothe themselves again with green in the Spring sunshine, and
-every hue speaks of life. The buds that were trampled down and faded
-burst forth once more in freshness and beauty, the streams break from
-the icy chains that held them, and the glorious sun himself comes
-wandering from his far-off journey, giving warmth to the atmosphere and
-renewed beauty and grace to every thing around, and every thing we see
-rekindles into life.
-
-At all times and in all places men have contemplated the questions of
-death and immortality. The one is a stern reality from which they know
-there is no escaping. Every day they see friends and acquaintances
-drooping and dying. Their pleasure drives are interrupted by the funeral
-cortege of strangers. There is not a soul but what in reflective moments
-has pondered the question of immortality. If they see clearly under the
-guiding light of Christianity the future is full of hope to them. It
-matters but little their present surroundings. If poverty and pain be
-their lot, they know that rest will come to them later. Those who do not
-possess this pleasing hope of immortality feel at times a painful
-longing, a vague unrest. Philosophize as they will, the future is dark
-and uncertain, and there are times when they would willingly give all
-could they but see a beacon light or feel the strong assurance of faith
-that they would live again.
-
-Surely, there is tenable ground for this hope! It can not be that earth
-is man's only abiding place. It can not be that our life is a bubble
-cast up by the ocean of eternity to float for a moment upon its surface,
-and then sink into nothingness and darkness forever. Else why is it that
-the high and glorious aspirations, which leap like angels from the
-temples of our hearts, are forever wandering abroad satisfied? Why is it
-that the rainbow and the cloud come over us with a beauty that is not of
-earth, and then pass off and leave us to muse on their faded loveliness?
-Why is it that the stars which hold their festival around the midnight
-throne are set above the grasp of our limited faculties, and are forever
-mocking us with their unapproachable glory? Finally, why is it that
-bright forms of human beauty are presented to the view, and then taken
-from us, leaving the thousand streams of affection to flow back upon our
-hearts? We are from a higher destiny than that of earth. There is a
-realm where the rainbow never fades, where the stars will be spread out
-before us like the islands on the bosom of the ocean, and where the
-beautiful beings that here pass before us like visions will remain with
-us forever.
-
-As death approaches and earth recedes do we not more clearly see that
-spiritual world in which we have all along been living, though we knew
-it not? The dying man tells us of attendant angels hovering around him.
-Perchance it is no vision. They might have been with him through life.
-They may attend us all through life, only our inward eyes are dim and we
-see them not. What is that mysterious expression, so holy and so
-strange, so beautiful yet so fearful, on the countenance of one whose
-soul has just departed? May it not be the glorious light of attendant
-seraphs, the luminous shadow of which rests awhile on the countenance of
-the dead?
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: TIME AND ETERNITY.]
-
- "Why shrinks the soul
- Back on herself, and startles at destruction?
- 'T is the divinity that stirs within us;
- 'T is heaven itself that points out an hereafter,
- And intimates eternity to man.
- Eternity, thou pleasing, dreadful thought!
- Thro' what variety of untried being,
- Thro' what new scenes and changes must we pass?
- The wide, the unbounded prospect lies before me;
- But shadows, clouds, and darkness rest upon it."
-
- —ADDISON.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Alas! what is man? Whether he be deprived of that light which is from on
-high, or whether he discards it, he is a frail and trembling creature,
-standing on time, that bleak and narrow isthmus between two eternities;
-he sees nothing but impenetrable darkness on the one hand, and doubt,
-distrust, and conjecture still more perplexing on the other. Most gladly
-would he take an observation as to whence he has come, or whither he is
-going; alas! he has not the means; his telescope is too dim, his compass
-too wavering, his plummet too short; nor is that little spot, his
-present state, one whit more intelligible, since it may prove a
-quicksand that may sink in a moment from his feet. It can afford him no
-certain reckonings as to that immeasurable ocean on which he must soon
-spread his sail—an awful expedition, from which the mind shrinks from
-contemplating. Nor is the gloom relieved by the outfit in which the
-voyage must be undertaken. The bark is a coffin, the destination is
-doubt, and the helmsman is death. Faith alone can see the star which is
-to guide him to a better land.
-
-The hour-glass is truly emblematical of the world. As its sands run out
-at the termination of a given period, so it shows that all things must
-have an end. It shows that man may devise—may even execute—but that
-erelong time, that restless destroyer, comes, and mows all before him,
-and leaves naught but a wreck, a barren waste behind him. Surely all
-will give credence to this who watch the daily dying of cherished hopes,
-of delightful anticipations. The flame burns brightly at first, but it
-soon fluctuates, and finally dies without restriction.
-
-We must, some time or other, enter on the last year of our life; fifty
-or one hundred years may yet come, and the procession may seem
-interminable, but the closing year of our life must come. There are many
-years memorable in history, as in them died men of renown; but the year
-of our death will be more memorable to us than any. Eighteen hundred and
-fifteen was a memorable year, for in that Waterloo was fought; but there
-will be a more memorable year for us—the year in which we fight the
-battle with the last enemy. That year will open with the usual
-New-year's congratulations; it will rejoice in the same orchard
-blossoming, and the sweet influences of Spring. It will witness the
-golden glory of the harvest, and the merry-makings of Christmas. And yet
-to us it will be vastly different, from the fact that it will be our
-closing year. The Spring grass may be broken by the spade to let us down
-to our resting-place; or, while the Summer grain is falling to the
-sickle, we may be harvested for another world; or, while the Autumnal
-leaves are flying in the November gale, we may fade and fall; or, the
-driving sleet may cut the faces of the black-tasseled horses that take
-us on our last ride. But it will be the year in which our body and soul
-part—the year in which, for us, time ends and eternity begins. All
-other years fade away as nothing. The year in which we were born, the
-year in which we began business, the year in which our father died, are
-all of them of less importance to us than the year of our death.
-
-It is only when on the border of eternity that the fleeting period of
-life is comprehended. Human life, what is it? It is vapor gilded by a
-sunbeam—the reflection of heaven in the waters of the earth. In youth
-the other world seems a great way off, but later we feel and realize
-that it is close at hand. We come, like the ocean wave, to the shore,
-but scarcely strike the strand before we roll back into forgetfulness,
-whence we came.
-
-In the light of eternity, how vain and foolish appear the contentions
-and strifes of mankind! Addison most beautifully expresses this thought
-in these lines: "When I look upon the tombs of the great every emotion
-of envy dies; when I read the epitaph of the beautiful every inordinate
-desire forsakes me; when I meet with the grief of parents upon a
-tombstone my heart melts with compassion; when I see the tombs of the
-parents themselves I reflect how vain it is to grieve for those we must
-quickly follow; when I see kings lying beside those who deposed them,
-when I see rival wits placed side by side, or the holy men who divided
-the world with their contests and disputes, I reflect with sorrow and
-astonishment on the frivolous competitions, factions, and debates of
-mankind."
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: THE EVENING OF LIFE.]
-
- "Old age, serene and bright,
- And lovely as a Lapland night,
- Shall lead thee to thy grave."
-
- —WORDSWORTH.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-There is a beauty in age. The morning of life may be glowing with the
-expectations of youth; the noon may be fruitful in endeavors and works;
-but the evening of life is the time of calm repose and holy meditation.
-When young and standing where the glow of youthful hopes irradiates the
-future how natural to lay out brilliant plans! to form ambitious
-resolves! How easy it seems to achieve any wished-for thing! Wealth,
-fame, or any temporal good—surely we can attain them! Experience soon
-shows us the futility of these hopes and plans. Before many milestones
-are passed in the journey of life we learn that God, in his wisdom, has
-so apportioned trial and suffering that it matters little the external
-surroundings; to all it is full of work and anxieties and painful
-scenes, and that it is in struggling against these that the best
-development of power is acquired.
-
- [Illustration: Engraved & Printed by Illman Brothers.
- "THE EVENING OF LIFE."
- "Man's portion is to die"]
-
-It is no wonder that when once confronted by the stern realities of life
-we should lose sight of the dreams of youth. Manhood's days are the days
-of reflection, of judgment, a wise adaptation of means to the end
-desired, and, if but used aright, we need have little occasion for
-regret that childhood's days are passed. We are no longer children; we
-are men and women. We are no longer engaged in childish dreams; we are
-up and doing what God has assigned to us. This is the period of life
-that we would most willingly see prolonged. But time stops not in his
-rapid flight. In vain our protests. The sun as swiftly descends to its
-setting as it rose to its noon. The form that so rapidly matured into
-one of grace, strength, and manly attributes of character, is bowed by
-the weight of years. The elasticity of youth gives way to the measured
-step and careful tread of age, and on the head time sprinkles his snow.
-
-It is now that the thoughts of man should assume their most valued
-characteristics. They can muse over the events of past years. They can
-contemplate the mysteries of the future. The most momentous period of
-life is about at hand—that time when they will exchange this life for
-another. What age can there be more important than this? It is natural
-for youth to regard old age as a dreary season—one that admits of
-nothing that can be called pleasure, and very little that deserves the
-name even of comfort. They look forward to it as in Autumn we anticipate
-the approach of Winter, forgetting that Winter, when it arrives, brings
-with it much of pleasure. Its enjoyments are of different kinds, but we
-find it not less pleasant than any other season of the year.
-
-In like manner age has no terror to those who see it near; but
-experience proves that it abounds with consolations, and even with
-delights. The world in general bows down to age, gives it preference,
-and listens with deference to its opinions. Such reverence must be
-soothing to age, and compensate it for the loss of many of the
-enjoyments of youth. "The true man does not wish to be a child again."
-In individual experience how many have wished to live again the past?
-Could we return, and carry with us our present experience, all would
-wish to do so, but to go over the same old round we are afraid that the
-number of those whose life has been so happy that they would wish to
-live it over again is exceedingly small. Your present experience will
-remain with you through life. And hence, old age, as devoid of pleasure
-as it may appear to us now, we will find that when the passage of years
-brings us to that point we will not willingly exchange it for any of the
-stages of life gone by.
-
-As there is nothing unlovely in age, when once at its threshold, so
-death, when viewed in the right spirit, is found to be but the pleasant
-transition stage to a more glorious and perfect life. From the days of
-Plato to the present men have doubted and wondered as to the questions
-of immortality and its nature. But none have approached the question in
-the right spirit but what always the result has been the same.
-Revelation and analogical reasoning both point to the same glorious
-hope. What, then, shall we view it with terror? Ought we not to look
-forward to it longingly as the final triumph of a well-lived life?
-Though success and fortune may have been ours here, are they any thing
-more or less than the accidental circumstances surrounding an ephemeral
-existence? In the light of eternity does it make any great difference
-whether that existence was passed surrounded with the comforts of wealth
-or struggling for the necessities of life?
-
-We are all equal in death; the king and the peasant, the rich and the
-poor are all alike in this respect. Surely, that which is thus the
-common lot of humanity must be for the common good. The universal dread
-of death is, then, the effect of erroneous habits of thought. It is the
-entrance to the harbor. We fear not the peaceful rest within. We can not
-do better, then, than to cultivate cheerful thoughts in regard to age
-and death. The one is the beautiful closing scene of earthly life, the
-other the entrance to life immortal.
-
-[Illustration]
-
- _He who died at Azan sends
- This to comfort all his friends._
-
- Faithful friends! _It_ lies, I know,
- Pale and white and cold as snow;
- And ye say, "Abdallah's dead!"
- Weeping at the feet and head.
- I can see your falling tears,
- I can hear your sighs and prayers;
- Yet I smile and whisper this—
- "_I_ am not the thing you kiss:
- Cease your tears and let it lie;
- It _was_ mine, it is not 'I.'"
- Sweet friends! what the women lave,
- For its last bed of the grave,
- Is but a hut which I am quitting,
- Is a garment no more fitting,
- Is a cage, from which at last,
- Like a hawk, my soul hath passed.
- Love the inmate, not the room—
- The wearer, not the garb—the plume
- Of the falcon, not the bars
- Which kept him from the splendid stars;
-
- Loving friends! Be wise, and dry
- Straightway every weeping eye:
- What ye lift upon the bier
- Is not worth a wistful tear.
- 'Tis an empty sea-shell—one
- Out of which the pearl has gone;
- The shell is broken—it lies there;
- The pearl, the all, the soul is here.
- 'T is an earthen jar, whose lid
- Allah sealed, the while it hid
- The treasure of his treasury,
- A mind that loved him; let it lie?
- Let the shard be earth's once more,
- Since the gold shines in his store!
-
- Allah glorious! Allah good!
- Now thy world is understood;
- Now the long, long wonder ends;
- Yet ye weep, my erring friends,
- While the man whom ye call dead,
- In unspoken bliss, instead,
- Lives and loves you; lost, 't is true,
- By such a light as shines for you;
- But in the light ye can not see
- Of unfulfilled felicity—
- In enlarging paradise
- Lives a life that never dies.
-
- Farewell, friends! Yet not farewell
- Where I am ye, too, shall dwell.
- I am gone before your face,
- A moment's time, a little space;
- When ye come where I have stepped
- Ye will wonder why ye wept;
- Ye will know, by wise love taught,
- That here is all and there is naught.
-
- Weep awhile, if ye are fain—
- Sunshine still must follow rain;
- Only not at death—for death,
- Now I know, is that first breath
- Which our souls draw when we enter
- Life, which is of all life center.
-
- Be ye certain all seems love,
- Viewed from Allah's throne above;
- Be ye stout of heart, and come
- Bravely onward to your home!
- _La Allah illa Allah!_ yea!
- Thou Love divine! Thou Love alway!
-
- _He that died at Azan gave
- This to those who made his grave._
-
-[Illustration: THE END]
-
-
-
-
-
-End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Golden Gems of Life, by
-S. C. Ferguson and E. A. Allen
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