the vessel sinking under him, and he, after handing all the rest into
the lifeboat, turning a deaf ear when they begged him to come too, and
be saved.
* * * * *
Leading another into the right path does not excuse me for continuing
in the wrong one. Neither can his reaching the goal help me to get
there while I walk in a different way.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
THE EAGLE AND THE WREN.
A WREN that came into a mountainous region where mining was carried on,
having found a deserted pit, made her nest in a hole in its side. One
hot summer day an eagle lodged on the branch of a pine tree that stood
near the pit, and spied the little wren coming up out of its mouth.
Said the eagle:
“So you are not satisfied with getting down on to the ground? You must
burrow under it to make your nest! Well, every creature finds its own
proper level; but can you see so far as that lofty crag on the top
of yonder mountain? There, up among the clouds, is where I sit with my
young, looking down on you little birds that dare not fly to the height
of our home.”
[Illustration]
The wren, overawed by the eagle’s voice, made no answer, but flew down
into the pit again.
The day grew hotter and hotter; the birds through the woods ceased
singing and the insects chirping; all nature seemed oppressed by the
heat. In the afternoon a small black cloud appeared in the west. It
rose rapidly, and soon spread over the whole sky. Then there was a
strange sound heard in the distance. It grew louder and nearer. As it
approached, tall forest trees bent over and snapped asunder, and great
branches, and heavy stones even, were seen flying through the air. It
lasted but a moment, and then all was still again.
Now, the wren, hidden in the hole in the pit’s side, had not heard the
noise of the storm; but, coming up soon afterward to hunt for a worm,
she was dismayed at the scene of desolation that met her eye. Great
trunks of trees, and rocks, were strewn over the earth, while among
them lay prostrate the eagle and her young. The young ones were dead,
and their mother, with a broken wing, in her effort to rise, was vainly
beating the ground.
“Alas!” cried the wren, “what has wrought such sad ruin? And how is it
that I have escaped, when a strong eagle has been cast down?”
“Ah!” replied the eagle, “had I been a wren with a lowly nest, like
you, instead of a proud eagle with her nest built on high, the tornado,
which you did not even hear, would have left me and mine, too,
unharmed.”
* * * * *
Persons who fill lofty stations are subject to dangers which others
know not of, and many a time, when no one suspects it, would be glad to
change places with those who envy them.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
THE TWO SAPLINGS.
TWO slender saplings were planted on the same day—one before the house
of a rich man, and the other at a poor man’s door.
The summer passed, and winter came. Then, as the rich man saw his young
tree tossed to and fro by the storm, he was afraid it would be broken;
so he went to it and built a fence around it and spread a roof over it.
But the poor man, because he had to labor out in the storm himself,
never thought of sheltering his tree.
Season followed after season; the rich man was still nursing his tree,
and, as it grew, building his fence up higher and higher. But the
poor man’s tree was left to the sunshine, the wind, and the rain.
[Illustration]
And now long years have gone; youth has fled, and age has come. The
rich man can no longer keep up his watchful care, nor the poor man go
forth to his labor. But, as they sit resting at their doors at the
close of the day, the poor man sees, towering above him, a strong oak
in its prime, spreading its protecting branches over his roof; while
the rich man sees a weak and unhealthy trunk that is already decaying
at the root, and destined hardly to outlast himself.
* * * * *
Parents who shield their children from the hardships which they ought
to bear in youth, unfit them for the hardships which they must bear in
maturer years.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
THE COG-WHEEL.
A SMALL cog-wheel in the upper part of a great printing-press came to
the conclusion that it was not turned by the steam-engine, but turned
of its own accord. Having taken up this notion, in a little while it
brought itself to believe that it drove the whole press.
“It is easy to see,” it said, “that the other wheels keep time with my
movements, going slow when I go slow, and fast when I run at greater
speed. From this it is plain that I give motion to the whole, and that
all the work of the press depends upon me.”
Then it began to boast about that work.
[Illustration]
“Look,” it said, “at that great sheet of white paper. It is laid
on my feed-board blank and meaningless, but comes out from under my
cylinder covered with the clearest print. It is a newspaper, which is
distributed by tens of thousands over the land. At other times I print
books. Some are learned ones, for scholars to read; some are children’s
books filled with pictures, and of these last I assert that nothing
made of paper and ink can be more beautiful. But it is all my work,
neither could it possibly be done without me, as I will now prove by
holding back for a moment the entire press.”
Saying which, the wheel turned a little on its side, thus hindering
the one next to it. But just at that moment the pressman, stepping up
and seeing some derangement in its movement, stopped the press. Then,
calling to a boy, who was covered with printer’s ink from head to foot,
“Run quickly,” he said, “to the store-room and bring me another
cog-wheel.”
No sooner had the boy brought it than the pressman, slipping off the
old wheel, put the new one in its place.
“Take this,” he said, handing the old one to the boy, “and throw it on
the scrap-heap.”
In another moment the press was running again at full speed.
* * * * *
Because some good work prospers in our hands we presently think
ourselves the author of it, forgetting that we are only instruments
appointed to carry it on, and that there are many others who are ready,
if need be, to take our place.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
THE PLOUGH AND THE MOWING-MACHINE.
A FARMER, having bought a new mowing-machine, brought it home and put
it in the barn where his plough was housed, waiting for the opening of
spring.
When the mower, in its bright paint and glossy varnish, saw the soiled
and toil-worn plough, it said, with a scornful look:
“Why am I placed in such low company?”
[Illustration]
“You think yourself better than I am,” said the plough, “but where
would you be without me? If I did not first turn up the soil for the
planting, you would never be wanted for the mowing. You only finish
where I have begun, and on my work your very existence depends.”
* * * * *
We sometimes look down on those who are not only our equals in
usefulness, but whose honest labor has helped to make us better off
than themselves.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
FAT AND LEAN.
A STRONG fat ox stood with his eyes half shut, chewing the cud, while
his driver heaped up a heavy load of stone on the cart he was yoked to.
A neighbor, who chanced to be riding by on a fast but very lean horse,
stopped to speak to the man. The horse, on being held in, began to paw
the ground, as if impatient to go on, then, looking around scornfully
at the ox, said:
“What do you stand there chewing the cud for now?”
“Why shouldn’t I?” asked the ox. “What harm does it do?”
“When I’m in harness,” replied the horse, “I like to work, and not go
to sleep.”
“I have to do my share of work,” said the ox; “there’s no doubt about
that. If you’ll wait till I get the word, you’ll see how I pull. When I
come to a heavy hill, I stop chewing the cud; but as soon as I come to
a level place, I begin again. For even while I’m at work I take all the
comfort I can.”
“‘Comfort’!” exclaimed the horse. “Is that your aim? Mine is to pass
every other team on the road.”
“Ah, well!” said the ox, “that sounds very fine,
But just look at your ribs, and then look at mine!”
* * * * *
He who cannot be happy as long as he sees another more fortunate or
successful than himself, whatever else he may gain, will never know
peace and content.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
HALF EMPTY AND QUITE FULL.
IN a quiet, lonely spot, beside a mountain-road, a half barrel stood
partly sunk in the ground. A small wooden trough resting on its rim led
the water from a spring that was hidden a little way back in the woods.
The water was for ever running into it, yet the half barrel was never
full. Its hoops were loosened, its joints opened, and much of the pure
stream that it received escaped, trickling down its sides and sinking
into the earth. But while it was never full, except perhaps once or
twice in a summer, when there fell such a flood of rain as overcame all
its leaks and openings, neither was it ever quite empty; for, although
it was a poor leaky vessel at best, it had never quite fallen to
pieces.
[Illustration]
A few miles beyond this spot, on that mountain-road, stood what looked
to be the other half of the same barrel. A trough exactly similar to
the first led a stream of water into it, but this half barrel, compact
and tight, was always full to the brim ready to spare some of its
refreshing contents to the tired traveller, who, after he had quenched
his own thirst, unreined his horse and allowed him to sink his mouth
deeply into it and drink.
* * * * *
Some men, retaining their gracious gifts, are ever ready to impart to
those who need; while others, suffering the loss of theirs, are ever in
need themselves.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
THE SNAKE.
A BEAUTIFUL and harmless little garter-snake was gliding across the
road, when a man who happened to be passing seized a club and struck it
a crushing blow. As it writhed in agony it turned to its assailant and
said:
“Why do you kill me?”
“Do you suppose,” replied the man, “I will let anything in the form of
a snake live, when I know there are venomous copperheads in this very
woods?”
“And are there no men,” asked the snake, “that are revengeful and
dangerous, and would you destroy all men for their sake?”
* * * * *
Let us not be prejudiced against a whole family for the faults of one
member of it, or be unable to see any merit in a thing because it is
not wholly free from defect.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
RICH AND POOR.
TWO men were neighbors—one rich, the other poor—and both of them had
children of whom they were fond. The children of the rich man received
many costly presents of such things as young people prize, but the
children of the poor man had only their food and clothing, and that of
the plainest sort.
Years passed by. Both families grew up like young trees in an orchard,
and in due season began to display the fruits of their training, when
the rich man, meeting his poor neighbor one day, said to him:
“I have been watching your children, and I notice they appear to feel
as though they could never see enough of you or do enough for you.
It is not so with mine. I wonder if you can tell the secret of this
difference?”
[Illustration]
“Perhaps it lies here,” replied the poor man: “As I am unable to draw
my children to me by what I can give them, I have to try and accomplish
it by what I can do for them. To this end I am careful about four
things—viz.: To be as sparing as I can of my censure when they do
wrong; to be as liberal as I can of my praise when they do right; to
take an interest in whatever interests them; and to let them see that I
deny myself to supply their needs as far as I can.”
“I see,” replied the rich man, “wherein our plans have differed: you
have worked for what I have tried to buy. I gave of my money, you of
what costs more—forbearance, consideration, and love. So I have been
shut out of my children’s hearts, while you have gained an entrance
into yours. I thank you for the lesson you have taught me, and purpose,
though I begin late, to profit by it.”
* * * * *
We cannot buy affection at any price, or retain it by the mere tie of
kindred, however close. We must secure it in each case by deserving it,
and hold it by continuing to deserve it from day to day.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
THE HAWK AND THE CHICKEN.
A HAWK, as it soared on high, seeing a young chicken in the field
below, rapidly descended, and seized it in his talons.
“Alas!” said the chicken, “I have no power to struggle, or any hope of
saving myself by resisting you in any way. But I pray you listen to me.
I am yet young, hardly grown, and am just beginning to enjoy roaming
through the fields by myself. Do not cut off my days. I beg you out of
pity to spare my life.”
“What you say may be all true,” said the hawk. “I don’t pretend to know
whether it is, or is not; all I do know is that I am hungry, and that
you are the only food provided for me. I can’t go into any reasonings
behind that.”
[Illustration]
Saying which, he dug his talons deeper into the flesh of his victim,
and, carrying it off, devoured it on a neighboring tree.
At this a horse that was feeding in the meadow below, and had heard the
birds speaking, said to himself:
“As I don’t wear feathers or fly with wings, I won’t presume to judge
those who do. But, as for me, I know it is my duty to earn my living by
honest labor and let other people alone.”
* * * * *
What may be lawful for others who are living under different conditions
from ourselves, affords us no excuse for ever departing from the strict
course of mercy and justice.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
THE SERVANT’S MONEY.
A CERTAIN king sent a message to one of his servants who lived in a
distant part of his kingdom, bidding the servant come to him, and
promising that henceforth all his wants should be supplied in the
king’s palace.
The servant, overjoyed at the message, prepared at once to obey it;
but, being a poor man who through long years of saving and pinching had
come to set great store by small possessions, it went very hard with
him to leave behind such things as he could call his own—the little
house he lived in, with the plot of ground around it, and the few
rude implements with which he tilled the soil. As it was impossible,
however, to take them with him, he sold them for what he could get
(which was not much); and then, packing up his clothes in divers
parcels and hiding his little store of money among them, he started on
his journey.
The first part of this, which led through well-tilled fields and among
people whom he knew, was very pleasant. Many who were his friends came
out, as he passed by, to meet him, begging him to stop and rest a while
in their houses. And when it happened to be toward evening, he went in
and supped and lodged with them.
But after leaving this part of the country he came to a bleak and
lonely region abounding in rocks and caves. Here, as he was pressing
on, hoping to get through it safely, some robbers rushed out from their
hiding-place upon him. Hastily looking through the bundles with which
he was loaded, and finding they were made up of old worn-out clothes,
they refused to take them. But, in making the search, they spied his
money, and, seizing it, quickly disappeared.
[Illustration]
When the poor man saw them hurrying away with his treasure—which,
small as it was, represented his lifelong labors—his grief overcame
him, and he sat down and wept. But, presently recovering himself, he
said:
“Shall I stay here crying in this wilderness, when I am sent for by the
king?”
Then he rose up from the ground, and pursued his way without further
interruption, though with a heavy heart and faltering step, until he
came to the gates of the king’s palace. There he found many others
assembled from different parts of the kingdom, who had also come at the
king’s command—some of them poor like himself, some rich; and they all
waited for the day when the gates should open.
But while they were waiting for this what was his surprise to see the
poor draw forth their pence, and the rich their silver and gold, and
throw them away! For they had been told they would have no need of
them within the gates, and that until they had parted with them they
could not enter. So they all cast their money from them, whether it
was little or much, and it lay scattered over the ground, with none to
gather it. Neither was the servant any poorer than the richest of them,
though he had been robbed of all. Then he said to himself, “How foolish
was I to set such store by, and grieve so much after, what was of no
real value!”
[Illustration]
And after that, with nothing except the garments that they wore (and
even these had been given them), he and all who waited with him entered
joyfully into the palace-gates.
* * * * *
It is of little account what we lose by the way if we keep that which
alone has any value at the end of our journey.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
FUTURE GREATNESS.
TWO young colts, each by the side of its mother, were at pasture in
adjoining fields. The mother of one, coming to the dividing fence, and
putting her head over it, said to her neighbor:
“Just look at the color of my colt! Was there ever a lovelier bay?
Before another spring has passed over his head I expect to see him in
the stable of some millionaire. You know what a rage there is among
rich men for fast horses. Now, look at the points in my colt—his long,
clean limbs, his deer-like shape, his full eye and broad nostril. I am
as certain of his speed as if he had just been around the track and I
heard the time-keeper calling out:
“‘Two minutes ten and a half seconds!’”
“I have been looking at your colt,” replied the other, “and admit
he promises well; but what do you think of the little roan on this
side the fence? Now, I wouldn’t care to have him in a millionaire’s
stable, or put him there, if I could, by a wish. Those rich men think
of nobody but themselves, and keep fine horses only to swell their own
importance. Then they are speculators, to a man; there’s no telling how
long they’ll keep their money. Let that go, and their horses go with
it, to the jockey and the race-course, to be abused and betted on and
driven to death.
“No; I would rather see my colt in the hands of some grand, rich
lady—the gem of her stable, her daily companion and pet. And is he not
made for it? Look at his round, short body, so plump and easily kept;
his strong, arched neck, and his beautiful thick mane and tail. And
mark my words: it won’t be long before all that I predict about him
comes true. In fact, I think I know who the lady is already. She drives
by here in her barouche with liveried coachman and footman, each with a
bouquet in his buttonhole, and as she passes I can see her looking over
the fence.”
[Illustration]
Here we will imagine that several years have suddenly vanished, and we
are again visiting the fields where the above interview took place.
One of them is being ploughed, and a stout roan horse is stepping
briskly in front of the furrow; the other field its owner is clearing
of stones, and a young bay is hauling out a heavy cart-load of them.
Both horses are strong and willing helpers on the farm, earning an
honest living, valued and well cared for by their masters, and far
better off than they would be if left to the heedless servants of the
fashionable lady or the proud millionaire.
* * * * *
What weakness and folly do we often show in the secret expectations we
cherish concerning those who are to come after us! And how well it is
for them that the shaping of their destinies is not in our hands!
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
THE OLD MAN’S WATCH.
AN old man and a young one were walking together over a rough and hilly
road. Said the old man:
“Though I detain you by being unable to keep up with your rapid step,
yet, in spite of this feeble frame, I am feeling in spirit as young as
you. Perhaps you can hardly believe this?”
“I can believe it if you say so,” replied the young man, “but confess
that when I look at your snowy locks and your bent form, I cannot
understand it.”
“Stop a moment,” said the old man, drawing out his watch and exposing
its works to view. “You see that, like myself, this watch has seen
its best days. Its case shows wear, and so do its works. These little
cog-wheels do not fit into each other as closely as they once did, and
they are growing farther apart, by wear, every day. But now look at the
mainspring, where it lies, here, coiled up by itself. It shows no wear.
The same power and elasticity it has had all along remain in it still.”
“I see,” replied the other; and, becoming so interested in the watch as
to forget it was being used only as an illustration, he continued: “Why
do you not have the rest of the works repaired?”
“Your question is natural,” said the old man. “So I might have these
worn-out works repaired, but not this worn-out body. Neither do I
desire it. It will soon have done its work and lasted out its appointed
time here. But in another state of being the immortal part—the
mainspring, so to speak—will live on, clothed with a new body as
immortal as itself. It is this that still remains as vigorous as ever,
and makes me feel, in spirit, as young as yourself.”
* * * * *
As we advance in years we are conscious of that within us which does
not grow old, but which, having learned that this world cannot satisfy,
grows weary of it, and peers anxiously into the next.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
THE TEACHER.
I DREAMED that I had started on a journey, and as I trudged along the
path alone a man carrying a mirror, stopped me, saying:
“I want to speak with you.”
I replied: “From whence do you come, and what may your calling be?”
He answered: “I come from beyond that steep hill in front of you which
you have yet to climb; and I am a teacher, teaching by the things that
I show in my mirror.”
Then he held his mirror up before my eyes and told me to look. I
obeyed, and saw a ship tossed in a storm. The sails were blown to
pieces, the boats were broken, the deck was swept by the waves, and
the ship was ready to sink. Then I saw the master come to the side,
and stand there pouring oil from a vessel in his hand on the angry
waters. And presently, although the storm continued to rage over the
rest of the ocean, the ship seemed to be rocked in a little basin that
was calm.
Said the teacher: “Gentleness overcomes where resistance would be in
vain.”
He held up the mirror again, and I saw two stone-cutters at work
dressing a great block of granite. On the wall above them was a clock.
Now, one of the men stood with his back to the clock, so that he could
not see it, and his arm dealt strong and rapid blows on the stone,
seeming never to tire. But the other man stood facing the clock, and
was constantly lifting up his eyes to it; and I noticed that his arm
was raised slowly and feebly, as if losing its strength, and his face
wore an expression of weariness.
The teacher said: “He who does not set his heart on his task, but on
the rest that comes after it, makes poor work for his employer and long
hours for himself.”
Again he held the mirror up, and I saw a vine planted in the ground,
with branches growing out of each side. Now, the vine was as if it
were made of glass, so that I could see the sap running from the stalk
into the branches. And as it did this they all put forth leaves and
blossoms. But suddenly, as I looked, the sap ceased to flow into one
of the branches. Then the buds and blossoms fell from it to the earth,
and the branch withered and died before my eyes.
[Illustration]
Said the teacher: “It is not what the branch gives, but what it
receives, that makes it of value in the vineyard.”
He held up the mirror again, and I saw a man with a lantern leading
a company that followed him on a dark and narrow path. But presently
he closed his eyes, and, as he did so, stumbled and fell. Then one of
his followers seized the lantern from his hand and led the others in
safety, but the one who had fallen did not return again.
The teacher said: “Even the guide who points out the way must tread
carefully, or he may step aside and be lost.”
Again he held up the mirror, and I saw a great fire burning—not near,
but, as it were, in a far-off abyss. In it were being consumed what
I had always looked upon as the greatest works of men. And those of
my own works in which I had taken the greatest pride were also being
devoured by the flames. Only a few of the deeds that had seemed to me
of lesser value, but that had been done for love (the love of One who
first loved me), stood unconsumed in the fire.
And the teacher said: “Behold true and false immortality.”
[Illustration]