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Na sinless and painless world the moral element would be lacking; the goodness would have no more significance in our conscious life than that load of atmosphere which we are always carrying about with us.
moral value or significance of a race of human beings ignorant of sin, and doing beneficent acts with no more consciousness or volition than the deftly contrived machine that picks up raw material at one end, and turns out some finished product at the other? Clearly, for strong and resolute men and women, an Eden would be at best but a fool's paradise.-Fiske.
A silence there expectant, meaning,
A thousand hearers, forward-leaning,
He saw the graves of heroes sleeping, He saw men's eyes suffused and dim; A triumph great, a nation weeping,
Found true expression there in him.
Not often in a nation's story,
Such words supreme, such manhood fine;
O-NOTHING days may be the busiest ones ☛ They are the days in which we absorb; while on the do-much days we try to make others absorb from us whatever we have in overplus: rib'bons, wisdom or cheese. If we oftener eased the strain on our eyes and minds, we should be enriched by impressions that in our usual attent and mastering attitude we refuse to heed. Americans ought to have a wholesome laziness preached to them, after three centuries of urging to gain and work, and several patriotic citizens make examples of themselves, for the public benefit, by refraining from toil.
He gave that day our grief and glory
We are thus brought to a striking conclusion, the essential soundness of which can not be gainsaid. In a happy world there must be pain and sorrow, and in a moral world the knowledge of evil is indispensable. The stern necessity of this has been proved to inhere in the innermost constitution of the human soul. It is part and parcel of the universe To him who is disposed to cavil at the world which God has in such wise created, we may fairly put the question whether the prospect of escape from its ills would ever induce him to put off this human consciousness, and accept some form of existence unknown and inconceivable! The alternative is clear: on the one hand a world with sin and suffering, on the other hand an unthinkable world in which conscious life does not involve contrast. We do not find that evil has been interpolated into the universe from without; we find that, on the contrary, it is an indispensable part of the dramatic whole. God is the creator of evil, and from the eternal scheme of things diabolism is forever excluded. Ormuzd and Ahriman have had their day and perished, along with the doctrine of special creation and other fancies of the untutored mind. From our present standpoint we may fairly ask, what would have been the worth of that primitive innocence portrayed in the myth of the Garden of Eden, had it ever been realized in the life of men? What would have been the
-Charles M. Skinner.
(OVERN the lips as they were palace
doors, the king within; tranquil and fair and courteous be all words which from that presence win.
-Sir Edwin Arnold.
MAN asked to define the essential characteristics of a gentlemanusing the term in its widest sense-would presumably reply, "The will to put himself in the place of others; the horror of forcing others into positions from which he would himself recoil; the power to do what seems to him to be right, without considering what others may say or think."-John Galsworthy.
EN will have, and must have, their
pleasures. Social reformers and tem perance agitators could not make a greater mistake than by following the example of the Puritans and tabuing all pleasures. They ought to distinguish between those that have a tendency to excess and vice, and those that are harmless and ennobling, encouraging the latter in every pos
ET me do my work each day;
Brief, so brief-the words were falling
From some Homeric yesterday.
No impulse this, no actor speaking
Of thoughts which came by happy
The man, the place, were God's own
The words are our inheritance.
A pause, a hush, a wonder growing;
self. Lift my eyes from the earth, and let me not forget the uses of the stars. Forbid that I should judge others, lest I condemn myself. Let me not follow the clamor of the world, but walk calmly in my path. Give me a few friends who will love me for what I am; and keep ever burning before my vagrant steps the kindly light of hope. And though age and infirmity overtake me, and I come not within sight of the castle of my dreams, teach me still to be thankful for life, and for time's olden memories that are good and sweet; and may the evening's twilight find me gentle still. -Max Ehrmann.
by Harrison D. Mason
sible way. And first among those that should be encour aged is music, because it is always ennobling, and can be enjoyed simultaneously by the greatest number. Its effect is well described in Margaret Fuller's private journal: "I felt raised above all care, all pain, all fear, and every taint of vulgarity was washed out of the world." That is precisely wherein
the moral power of music lies; for vulgarity is the twin sister of vice.
-Henry T. Finck.
ORSOOTH, brothers, fellowship is heaven, and the lack of fellowship is hell; fellowship is life and the lack of fellowship is death; and the deeds that ye do upon the earth, it is for fellowship's sake that ye do them. Therefore, I bid you not dwell in hell, but in heavenupon earth, which is a part of heaven and forsooth no foul part.
IVE me the money that has been spent in war, and I will clothe every man, woman and child in an attire of which kings and queens would be proud. I will build a schoolhouse in every valley over the whole earth. I will crown every hillside with a place of worship consecrated to the gospel of peace.
O Art has become foolishly confounded with education that all should be equally qualified 38
Whereas, while polish,refinement, culture and breeding are in no way arguments for artistic results, it is also no reproach to the most finished scholar or greatest gentleman in the land that he be absolutely without eye for painting or ear for music—that in his heart he prefer the popular print to the scratch of Rembrandt's needle, or the songs of the hall to Beethoven's C minor symphony. Let him have but the wit to say so, and not feel the admission a proof of inferiority.
Art happens-no hovel is safe from it, no Prince may depend upon it, the vastest intelligence can not bring it about, and puny efforts to make it universal end in quaint comedy, and coarse farce. This is as it should be-and all attempts to make it otherwise are due to the eloquence of the ignorant, the zeal of the conceited.-Whistler.
T is idle to think that, by means of words, any real communication can ever pass from one man to another. The moment that we have something to say to each other, we are compelled to hold our peace: and if at such times we do not listen to the urgent commands of silence, invisible though they be, we shall have suffered an eternal loss that all the treasures of human wisdom can not make good; for we shall have let slip the opportunity of listening to another soul, and of giving existence, be it only for an instant, to our own.
And again, I doubt whether anything in the world can beautify a soul more spontaneously, more naturally, than the knowledge that somewhere in its neighborhood exists a pure and noble being whom it can unreservedly love.
When the soul has veritably drawn near to such a being, beauty is no longer a lovely, lifeless thing that one exhibits to the stranger, for it suddenly takes unto itself an imperious existence, and its activity becomes so natural as to be henceforth irresistible.-Maeterlinck,
is the prime secret of the Open Road that you are to pass nothing, reject nothing, despise nothing upon this earth. As you travel, many things both great and small will come to your attention; you are to regard all with open eyes and a heart of simplicity. Believe that everything belongs somewhere; each thing has its fitting and luminous place within this mosaic of human life. The Road is not open to those who withdraw the skirts of intolerance or lift the chin of pride. Rejecting the least of those who are called common or unclean, it is (curiously) you yourself that you reject de de
N its heart the world cares for little
but play; but in its life it does hardly anything but work, for the world has forgotten that the reason of its work is— play. The natural man works that he may play works that he may love and dream, and know while he may the wonders and joys of the strange and lovely world which for a short space he is allowed to inhabit; the unnatural man plays that he may work. So unnatural indeed have we become that not only have we forgotten our dreams, but we have actually grown ashamed of them.
Proverbially there is nothing of which an Englishman is so much ashamed as his emotions. To suspect him of sentiment is to imply insult, to surprise him in tears is to commit a mortal offense. Laughter he still retains, but too often for the unworthy purpose of laughing at other people's emotions, and ridiculing beautiful things he no longer understands. England indeed is the Siberia of emotions. Let us all escape from Siberia.
-Richard Le Gallienne.
HE law should be loved a little be
cause it is felt to be just; feared a little because it is severe; hated a little because it is to a certain degree out of sympathy with the prevalent temper of the day; and respected because it is felt to be a necessity.-Emile Fourget.
The night has a thousand eyes,
fruit-trees begin to show; the blood is
HE love of dirt is among the earliest of passions, as it is the latest. Mud-pies gratify one of our first and best instincts. So long as we are dirty we are pure. Fondness for the ground comes back to a man after he has run the round of pleasure and business, eaten dirt, and sown wild-oats, drifted about the world and taken the wind of all its moods. The love of digging in the ground (or of looking on while he paysanother to dig) is as sure to come back to him as he is sure, at last, to go under the ground and stay there. To own a bit of ground, to scratch it with a hoe, to plant seeds, and watch their renewal of life-this
And the day but one,
Yet the light of the bright world
With the dying sun.
The mind has a thousand eyes,
And the heart but one,
-Francis W. Bourdillon
is the commonest delight of the race, the most satisfactory thing a man can do. When Cicero writes of the pleasures of old age, that of agriculture is chief among them
olive-covered hills of Tivoli, Horace had a sunny farm: it was in sight of Hadrian's villa, who did landscape-gardening on an extensive scale, and probably did not get half as much comfort from it as Horace did from his more simply tilled acres. We trust that Horace did a little hoeing and farming himself, and that his verse is not all fraudulent sentiment. In order to enjoy agriculture you do not want too much of it, and you want to be poor enough to have a little inducement to work moderately yourself. Hoe while it is Spring and enjoy the best anticipations. It is not much matter if things do not turn out well.
To dig in the mellow soil-to dig moderately, for all pleasure should be taken sparingly-is a great thing. One gets strength out of the ground as often as one touches it with a hoe. Antæus was no doubt an agriculturist; and such a prize-fighter as Hercules could n't do anything with him till he got him to lay down his spade and quit the soil. It is not simply potatoes and beets and corn and cucumbers that one raises in his well-hoed garden; it is the average of human life. There is life in the ground; E have committed the Golden Rule
it goes into the seeds; and it also, when it is stirred up, goes into the man who stirs it. The hot sun on his back as he bends to his shovel and hoe, or contemplatively rakes the warm and fragrant loam, is better than much medicine. The buds are coming out on the bushes round about; the blossoms of the
-Charles Dudley Warner.
to memory; let us now commit it to life
We have preached Brotherhood for
those odd moments? Thomas A. Edison, for instance, was hammering away at a telegraph-key when he was telegraph-operator on a small salary. He did n't neglect the by-product, the odd moments. He thought, and planned, and tried between messages. And he worked out, as a by-product of his telegraph job, all the inventions that
And this I hate-not men, nor flag nor
But only War with its wild, grinning
God strike it till its eyes be blind as
N these days, much of the
And all its members tremble with
Oh, let it hear in its death agony
And on its head
Descend the venomed curses of its sons
Had dyed the daisies red.
If Mr. Armour neglected making the hair rope, or selling the pigtails, it would make a big difference in his dividends The point for the reader is this: The individual man does not manufacture, as a rule. But we are, all of us, dealers in time Ꮽe ᏭO
Time is the one thing we possess. Our success depends upon the use of our time, and its by-product, the odd moment o
Each of us has a regular day's work that he does in a routine, more or less mechanical, way. He does his clerking, his writing, his typewriting, or whatever it may be, so many hours per day. And that ends it.
But what about the by-product, the odd moments? Do you know that the men that have made great successes in this world are the men that have used wisely
have given him. millions, and given to the inhabitants of the world thousands of millions' worth of dollars in new ideas. Benjamin Franklin in his story of his life shows an endless number of such efforts along the lines using the odd moments. In a hundred different ways he managed to make the extra hours useful and productive.
What a man does in his odd moments is not only apt to bring him profit; it is apt also to increase his mental activity o The mind craves a change, and it often does well the unusual thing, out of the routine
Letting well enough alone" is a foolish motto in the life of a man who wants to get ahead. In the first place, nothing is