A few paternal acres bound,
Content to breathe his native air
In his own ground.
374
Since we have loaves, let us look not for cakes.
375
To be content with little is difficult; to be content with much—impossible.
376
If thou hast but little, make it not less by murmuring.
377
Contentment will make a cabbage look as fair as a palace.
378
May we never murmur without a cause, nor have cause to murmur.
379
He that is rich need not live sparingly, and he that can live sparingly need not be rich.
380
I have little, and seek no more:
They are but poor, though much they have,
And I am rich with little store;
They poor, I rich; they beg, I give;
They lack, I have; they pine, I live.
381
And wealth and power were to me sent,
How infinitely poor I'd be
Without content.
382
Is it possible to find perfect contentment? Some one once said:—"The secret of perfect contentment is, that there isn't any."
383
"It is a great blessing to possess what one wishes," said one to an ancient philosopher, who replied, "It is a greater blessing still, not to desire what one does not possess."
384
Contentment is a pearl of great price, and whoever procures it at the expense of ten thousand desires, makes a wise and happy purchase.
385
He that deserves nothing should be content with anything.
386
He is a wise man who does not grieve for the things which he has not, but rejoices for those which he has.
387
When the well is dry, then we all know the worth of water.
388
Forwardness
and Reserve.
389
Conversation.—To please others we should talk on subjects they like and that interest them; avoid disputes, seldom ask questions, and never let them see that we pretend to be better informed than they are.
390
The first ingredient in conversation is truth, the next good sense, the third good humor, and the fourth wit.
391
Conversation is the music of the mind; an intellectual orchestra, where all the instruments should bear a part, but where none should play together.
392
Never argue in society; if any person differs from you, bow, and turn the conversation.
393
In conversation overbear.
394
One of the best rules in conversation is, never say a thing which any of the company can reasonably wish had been left unsaid.
395
Conversation.—As it is the mark of great minds to say many things in a few words, so it is that of little minds to use many words to say nothing.
"So much they talked, so very little said."
396
To say nothing charmingly is a great gift.
397
Conversation.—In general those who nothing have to say contrive to spend the longest time in doing it.
398
With thee conversing, I forget all time.
399
It is better to turn back than to go astray.
400
He who converses with no one, learns nothing.
401
As rust corrupts iron, so envy corrupts man.
402
Corporations have no souls:—Lord Chancellor Thurlow said, "that corporations have neither bodies to be punished, nor souls to be condemned; they therefore do as they like."
403
Of an unmeasurable length: they spread
Ev'rywhere; and the dew that drops from thence
Hath infected some chairs and stools of authority.
404
The thatched cottage where one is merry, is preferable to a palace where one weeps.
405
Good counsel never comes too late.
406
From a safe port 'tis easy to give counsel.
407
He that winna be counselled canna be helped.
408
In many counsellors there is safety.
409
And 'tis that, that crowns a welcome.
410
The countenance is frequently more expressive than the tongue.
411
A pleasing countenance is no slight advantage.
412
A smiling countenance indicates courtesy, joy, good humor and happiness.
413
The character of a man's native country is as strongly impressed on his mind as its accent is on his tongue.
414
RURAL LIFE.
The fact that the following verses are heard to-day proves their "convenience," to say the least, for they were written by William Livingston in 1747:——
From noise remote, and ignorant of strife,
Far from the painted belle and white-gloved beau,
The lawless masquerade, and midnight show,
From lapdogs, courtiers, garters, stars,
Fops, fiddlers, tyrants, emperors, and czars!
415
THE COUNTRY.
The glimpse of a green pasture, how they cheer
The citizen, and brace his languid frame.
Even in the stifling bosom of the town;
A garden, in which nothing thrives, has charms
That soothe the rich possessor.
And are these not all proofs that man immured
In cities, still retains his inborn inextinguishable
Thirst of rural scenes, compensating his loss
By supplemental shifts the best he may?
416
LOVE OF COUNTRY.
Who never to himself hath said,
"This is my own—my Native Land!"
Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned
As home his footsteps he hath turned
From wandering on a foreign strand?
If such there breathe, go—mark him well;
For him no minstrel raptures swell;
High though his titles, proud his name,
Boundless his wealth as wish can claim—
Despite those titles, power and pelf,
The wretch, concentred all in self,
Living, shall forfeit fair renown,
And, doubly dying, shall go down
To the vile dust from whence he sprung,
Unwept, unhonored, and unsung.
417
The wise men of Greece were asked which was the best governed country. Clemenese replied, "the people who have more respect for the laws than the orators."
418
He who loves not his country, can love nothing.
419
A great deal of talent is lost to the world for the want of courage.
420
Life is not so short but that there is always time enough for courtesy.
421
The courtesy with which I receive a stranger, and the civility I show him, form the background on which he paints my portrait.
422
Courtesy on one side, never lasts long.
423
Men dream in courtship, but in wedlock wake.
424
Courtship and Marriage.—"Their courtship was carried on in poetry." Alas! many a pair have courted in poetry, and after marriage lived in prose.
425
Courtship may be said to consist of a number of quiet attentions, not so pointed as to alarm, nor so vague as not to be understood.
426
Covetousness.—A young man once picked up a sovereign lying in the road. Ever afterward, in walking along, he kept his eye fixed steadily upon the ground in hopes to find another. And in the course of a long life he did pick up, at different times, a goodly number of coins, gold and silver. But all these years, while he was looking for them, he saw not that the heavens were bright above him, and nature beautiful around. He never once allowed his eye to look up from the mud and filth in which he sought his treasure; and when he died—a rich old man—he only knew this fair earth as a dirty road to pick up money as you walk along. Thus you see the desire of having is the sin of covetousness.
427
The coward only threatens when he is secure.
428
The hand that rocks the cradle rules the world.
429
Credit, like a looking-glass, broken once, is gone, alas!
430
He who doesn't take care of his credit will soon have none to take care of.
431
There are two directly opposite reasons why some men cannot get credit—one is because he is not known—the other because he is.
432
THE CRITIC.
Before a picture on the wall:
"You call this art? Now see that fly,
It is not natural at all.
Is far too large—who ever saw
A fly like that, so limp and dead,
And wings that look as if they—pshaw!"
He waved his hand, when lo! the fly
Flew from the picture. "Ah! some dust,"
The critic said, "was in my eye."
Some one has said that finding fault is done on a smaller capital than any other business, and it is a very fascinating business, too, for people of—small calibre.
433
Save censure; critics all are ready-made.
434
The culture of a man is like the changing of raw material into the manufactured article. The uncultured man is comparatively helpless and worthless.
435
Its spirit, and before its altar knelt?
436
Our thoughts, our morals, our most fixed belief
Are consequences of our place of birth.
D
437
Daughter.—To a father waxing old nothing is dearer than a daughter; sons have spirits of higher pitch, but less inclined to sweet endearing fondness.
438
BEREFT OF AN ONLY DAUGHTER.
Is heavy with its grief: the streams of sorrow,
Choked at the source, repress my faltering voice.
I have no words to speak; mine eyes are dimmed
By the dark shadows of the thoughts that rise
Within my soul. If such the force of grief
In an old hermit parted from his nursling,
What anguish must the stricken parent feel
Bereft forever of an only daughter!
That lurks beneath thine eyelid, ere it flow
And weaken thy resolve; be firm and true—
True to thyself and me, the path of life
Will lead o'er hill and plain, o'er rough and smooth,
And all must feel the steepness of the way,
Tho' rugged be thy course, press boldly on.
To those above thee. Should thy wedded lord
Treat thee with harshness, thou must never be
Harsh in return, but patient and submissive.
Be to thy menials courteous, and to all
Placed under thee considerate and kind:
Be never self-indulgent, but avoid
Excess in pleasure; and, when fortune smiles
Be not puffed up. Thus to thy husband's house
Wilt thou a blessing prove, and not a curse.
439
Another bright day:
Think wilt thou let it
Slip uselessly away?
440
He mourns the dead who lives as they desire.
441
One of the Fathers said: "That there is but this difference between the death of old and young men,—that old men go to death, and death comes to young men."
442
THE REPROOF OF A FOOL.
There was a certain nobleman who kept a fool, to whom he one day gave a staff, with a charge to keep it till he should meet with one who was a greater fool than himself. Not many years after, the nobleman fell sick, even unto death. The fool came to see him: his lord said to him—"I must shortly leave you." "And whither are you going?" said the fool. "Into another world," replied his lordship. "And when will you come again? Within a month?" "No." "Within a year?" "No." "When then?" "Never." "Never!" said the fool, "and what provision hast thou made for thy entertainment there, whither thou goest?" "None at all." "No!" said the fool, "none at all! Here then, take my staff; for with all my folly, I am not guilty of any such folly as this."
443
The divinity who rules within us, forbids us to leave this world without his command.
444
When a man dies, they who survive him, ask what property he has left behind. The angel who bends over the dying man, asks what good deeds he has sent before him.
445
Happy is, or ought to be, the man who owes nothing.
446
If you would avoid paying debts, avoid incurring them.
447
For all things ripen only to decay.
448
DECISION.
To-morrow, and the next more dilatory;
The indecision brings its own delays,
And days are lost lamenting over days.
Are you in earnest? Seize this very minute,
What you can do, or dream you can, begin it.
Boldness has genius, power and magic in it.
Only engage, and then the mind grows heated,—
Begin,
And then the work
Will be completed.
449
Let him that hath done the good office conceal it; let him that hath received it disclose it.
450
NOBLE DEEDS.
He wrote a book, its title now forgot;
He ruled a city, but his name is not
On any tablet graven, or where rust
Can gather from disuse, or marble bust.
He took a child from out a wretched cot,
Who on the state dishonor might have brought,
And reared him to the Christian's hope and trust.
The boy to manhood grown, became a light
To many souls, preached for human need
The wondrous love of the Omnipotent.
The work has multiplied like stars at night
When darkness deepens; every noble deed
Lasts longer, than a granite monument.
451
"He wishes well" is worthless, unless the deed go with it.
452
Deformed.—Mock not at those who are misshapen by nature. He that despiseth them despiseth God that made them.
453
Away with delay! it always injures those that are prepared.
454
Do not delay: the golden moments fly!
455
True delicacy, that most beautiful heart-leaf of humanity, exhibits itself most significantly in little things.
456
Nothing prevents our being natural so much as the desire to appear so.
457
Remember that your dependents have seldom a full power of replying to you; and let the recollection of that make you especially considerate in your dealings with them.
458
Honorable descent is in all nations greatly esteemed; besides, it is to be expected that the children of men of worth will be like their fathers.
459
Think on the means, the manner, and the end.
460
The desires of man increase with his acquisitions.
461
DESTINY.
Only a signal shown and a distant voice in the darkness:
So on the ocean of life we pass and speak one another,
Only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence.
462
INSCRIPTION FOR A SUN-DIAL.
Divides the future from the past:
Before it sleeps the unborn hour
In darkness, and beyond thy power:
Behind its unreturning line,
The vanished hour, no longer thine:
One hour alone is in thy hands—
The Now on which the shadow stands.
463
RISE ABOVE YOUR DIFFICULTIES.
Not till after the death of a member of Parliament, a prominent county magistrate, the owner of large estates, and an active, public-spirited man in all local and national matters, was it known by those who had not seen him, that it was but the misshapen block of a man that had lived this active, manly life.
He was born with neither legs nor arms. After his death his story was told: how he resolved, when but a boy, to act and live as did other boys, without regard to his horrible misfortune; how he persisted in studying every book, in learning every game, in joining in every amusement possible to him, with his companions. How, to the last year of his life, he held himself to be as responsible as other men, and bravely paid every tithe of duty to God and to his fellows.
Even in lesser matters in life he pressed to the front. He was the most genial, witty guest at social dinner tables. Strapped to his horse, he hunted foxes in Yorkshire, or tigers in India, and with his brothers made long journeys in other parts of the world. Everywhere his cheerfulness and gaiety gave new life to duller souls.
Is there no lesson for us all in the life of this gallant gentleman?
464
Dr. Roux, the celebrated French physician, said: "The greater part of preparation for the digestion of food takes place in the mouth."
465
"Studied gestures or well-practiced smiles."
466
We have all met with a great many disappointments, and if we live much longer, shall likely meet with many more.
467
So full of frost, of storm, and cloudiness.
468
Or carry smiles and sunshine in my face,
When discontent sits heavy at my heart.
469
Discontent is a man's, and a woman's, worst enemy.
470
DISCONTENT.
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?
471
Be discreet in all things, and so render it unnecessary to be mysterious about anything.
472
Thy friend has a friend, and thy friend's friend has a friend;—be discreet.
473
Woe unto him that increaseth that which is not his!
474
No man's disposition will alter, say what we may.
475
Shut not thy purse-strings always against distress.
476
Meritest not to be called by the name of man.
477
It is better occasionally to be deceived in people than for one to be always distrustful.
478
In times of danger, only,—not before:
The danger past, both are alike requited;
God, is alas!—forgotten, and the doctor—slighted.
479
Did you never observe that dogs have not the power of comparing? A dog will take a small bit of meat as readily, when both are before him.
480
THE FAITHFUL DOG.
Long kept by wars, and long by tempests tost,
Arrived at last, poor, old, disguised, alone,
To all his friends, and ev'n his queen, unknown:
Chang'd as he was with age, and toils, and cares,
Furrow'd his rev'rend face, and white his hairs,
In his own palace forc'd to ask his bread,
Scorn'd by those slaves his former bounty fed,
Forgot of all his own domestic crew;
The faithful dog alone his master knew!
Unfed, unhous'd, neglected, on the clay
Like an old servant, now cashier'd he lay;
And, tho' e'en then expiring on the plain
Touch'd with resentment of ungrateful man,
And longing to behold his ancient lord again.
Him, when he saw—he rose, and crawl'd to meet,
'Twas all he could, and fawn'd, and kiss'd his feet,
Seized with dumb joy: then, falling by his side,
Own'd his returning lord, look'd up, and died.
481
Food remains for three days in the stomach of the dog, because God knew that his food would be scanty.
482
If you are in doubt whether to write a letter or not—don't! The advice applies to doubts in life besides that of letter writing.
483
And make us love the good we oft might win,
By fearing to attempt.