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Read Ebook: Sussex Gorse: The Story of a Fight by Kaye Smith Sheila
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Ebook has 2738 lines and 150873 words, and 55 pages
Speak gently to the aged one, Grieve not the care-worn heart; The sands of life are nearly run-- Let such in peace depart!
Elderly people look back upon the friends, relatives and acquaintances of thirty, forty or fifty years ago, and say, "There are no friends now-a-days like the old friends of long ago." It is natural for them to think this way, particularly when most of the old friends are dead; but the fact is, that there are friends as true now as ever.
These are the effects of doting age, Vain doubts, and idle cares, and over-caution.
Do you seek Alcides' equal? There is none but himself.
EVIDENTLY UNSATISFACTORY.
"When I look at my congregation," said a London preacher, "I say, 'Where are the poor?' When I count the offertory in the vestry I say, 'Where are the rich?'"
ALMSGIVING.
At table, discussing with some friends the subject of raffles, Bishop Wescott said that he objected to them as part of the gambling question, and also on wider grounds. He objected to all the "side means" which were sometimes combined with sales of work for "getting money out of people." Such money, he thought, as distinct from that which is given, was not wanted nor acceptable.
What stamps the wrinkles deepest on the brow, It is to be alone, as I am now!
The following Hawaiian alphabet, consisting of twelve letters, was in use, and had been for something like a hundred years, when the compiler visited the Islands in 1886. It was given to the Hawaiians by the missionaries, viz.:
a, e, i, o, u, h, k, l, m, n, p, w.
THE AMBITIOUS MAN.
How easy it is to be amiable in the midst of happiness and success!
The sea of ambition is tempest--tost, And your hopes may vanish like--foam.
To be happy at home is the ultimate result of all ambition.
Thy father's merit sets thee up to view, And shows thee in the fairest point of light, To make thy virtues, or thy faults conspicuous.
THE QUEST OF ANCESTORS.
"Of all the notable things on earth, The queerest one is pride of birth."
A few years ago a well-known Bostonian, the descendant of an honored family, began the ancestral quest with expert assistance. All went merry as a marriage bell for a time, when suddenly he unearthed an unsavory scandal that concerned one of his progenitors. Feeling a responsibility for the misdeeds of his great-grandfather, he ordered all investigation stopped, and the disagreeable data destroyed; but he had delved too far. His genealogist had told a friend, and the secret was out beyond recall.
MERIT FROM ANCESTORS.
Were honor to be scann'd by long descent From ancestors illustrious, I could vaunt A lineage of the greatest; and recount, Among my fathers, names of ancient story, Heroes and god-like patriots, who subdu'd The world by arms and virtue. But that be their own praise; Nor will I borrow merit from the dead, Myself an undeserver.
He who constantly boasts of his ancestors, confesses that he has no virtue of his own.
Never mind who was your grandfather. What are you?
A good man's anger lasts an instant, A meddling man's for two hours, A base man's a day and night, A great sinner's until death.
Have nothing to do with men in a passion, for they are not like iron, to be wrought on when they are hot.
Anger generally begins with folly, and ends with repentance.
He who subdues his anger, conquers his greatest enemy.
A fit of anger is as fatal to dignity as a dose of arsenic to life.
It is much better to reprove, than to be angry secretly.
Catch not too soon at an offence, nor give too easy way to anger; the one shows a weak judgment, the other a perverse nature.
He who can suppress a moment's anger, may prevent a day of sorrows.
Nothing can be more unjust, or ridiculous, than to be angry with others because they are not of our opinion.
When a man grows angry, his reason flies out.
Animals are such agreeable friends--they ask no questions, they pass no criticisms.
HIS CREATURES.
The daughter of an army officer, whose life had been spent in the far west, told the following anecdote: "Indians, when they accept Christianity, very often hold its truths with peculiar simplicity.
"There was near our fort an old chief called Tassorah. One day, when I was an impulsive girl, I was in a rage at my pony, and dismounting, beat him severely. The old man stood by, silent for a moment.
"'What words have I heard from Jesus?' he said, sternly. 'If you love not your brother whom you have seen, how can you love God whom you have not seen?'
"'This horse is not my brother!' I said scornfully.
"The old man laid his hand on the brute's head and turned it toward me. The eyes were full of terror.
"'Is not God his creator? Must He not care for him?' he said. 'Not a sparrow falls to the ground without His notice.'
"I never forgot the lesson. It flashed on me then for the first time that the dog that ran beside me, the birds, the very worms were His, and I, too, was one of His great family."
Kindness to animals is no unworthy exercise of benevolence. We hold that the life of brutes perishes with their breath, and that they are never to be clothed again with consciousness. The inevitable shortness then of their existence should plead for them touchingly. The insects on the surface of the water, poor ephemeral things, who would needlessly abridge their dancing pleasure of to-day? Such feelings we should have towards the whole animate creation.
THE GRACIOUS ANSWER.
The way is dark, my Father! Cloud on cloud Is gathering thickly o'er my head, and loud The thunders roar above me. See, I stand Like one bewildered! Father, take my hand, And through the gloom Lead safely home Thy child! The way is dark, my child! But leads to light. I would not always have thee walk by sight. My dealings now thou canst not understand. I meant it so; but I will take thy hand, And through the gloom Lead safely home My child! The day goes fast, my Father! And the night Is growing darkly down. My faithless sight Sees ghostly visions. Fears, a spectral band, Encompass me. O Father! Take my hand, And from the night Lead up to light Thy child! The day goes fast, my child! But is the night Darker to me than Day? In me is light! Keep close to me, and every spectral band Of fears shall vanish. I will take thy hand, And through the night Lead up to light My child! The way is long, my Father! And my soul Longs for the rest and quiet of the goal; While yet I journey through this weary land, Keep me from wandering. Father, take my hand; Quickly and straight Lead to Heaven's gate Thy child! The way is long, my child! But it shall be Not one step longer than is best for thee; And thou shalt know, at last, when thou shalt stand Safe at the goal, how I did take thy hand, And quick and straight Lead to Heaven's gate My child! The path is rough, my Father! Many a thorn Has pierced me; and my weary feet, all torn And bleeding, mark the way. Yet Thy command Bids me press forward. Father, take my hand; Then, safe and blest, Lead up to rest Thy child! The path is rough, my child! But oh! how sweet Will be the rest, for weary pilgrims meet, When thou shalt reach the borders of that land To which I lead thee, as I take thy hand; And safe and blest With me shall rest My child! The throng is great, my Father! Many a doubt, And fear and danger, compass me about; And foes oppress me sore. I can not stand Or go alone. O Father! take my hand, And through the throng Lead safe along Thy child! The throng is great, my child! But at thy side Thy Father walks; then be not terrified, For I am with thee; will thy foes command To let thee freely pass;--will take thy hand, And through the throng Lead safe along My child! The cross is heavy, Father! I have borne It long, and still do bear it. Let my worn And fainting spirit rise to that blest land Where crowns are given. Father, take my hand; And reaching down Lead to the crown Thy child! The cross is heavy, child! Yet there was One Who bore a heavier cross for thee; my Son, My well-beloved. For Him bear thine; and stand With Him at last; and from thy Father's hand, Thy cross laid down, Receive a crown, My child!
Anxiety is the poison of human life.
Beware, as long as you live, of judging men by their outward appearance.
A man's reception depends very much upon his coat.
APPEARANCES OFTEN MISUNDERSTOOD.
Sometimes our estimate of men and women On short acquaintance is very much at fault.
A gentleman and his wife--Pierrepont by name--passengers on one of the great Atlantic steamers, not knowing any of the other passengers, kept very much to themselves; he usually reading aloud to his wife, and she occupied in some needle work; for this, they were commented upon, and not very favorably, and generally were called the "stupid couple." Little did these same passengers know the true character of that gentleman and lady. An incident that occurred on board soon proved the bravery and heroism of the one, and the gentleness and self-sacrifice of the other. The captain had with him his only son, a boy of some eight summers, a great favorite of all on board from fore to aft. The little fellow, climbing on the side of the ship, somehow fell overboard. The lady happening to be on the other side of the deck, saw the child climb up, and immediately missed him. She quickly laid her hand on her husband's shoulder, looking in his eyes, and cried out, "Oh, save the boy, he has fallen overboard." In one moment he was on his feet, kicked off his canvas shoes, threw his hat on the deck, and turning his face toward the bridge, where he knew some of the ship's officers were always stationed, he called out in a voice which rang like a trumpet call over the ship, "Man overboard." Then, with a quick run and leap, he cleared the rail, and the broken twisting water of the ship's track had closed over him. He was on the surface again in a moment, and taking a glance back at the ship to know his position, stretched out into a long steady stroke in the direction where he knew the child was.
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