Years ago, when Mr. Gladstone was in active political service, he made

some public addresses during a parliamentary recess that gave offence to

the leaders of the opposite party. They thought it necessary to

discipline him by what would be regarded as an official rebuke, when

Parliament should reassemble. He was to be convicted of breach of

courtesy and violation of constitutional rights. In due course the

reprimand was administered. A Conservative statesman of distinction was

set up to chastise the offending lion. He rejoiced as a strong man to

run a race. A splendid audience was present to see the thing done

properly, and the Conservative orator’s wife had taken with her a party

of friends to the House of Commons to aid in swelling the triumph.

Through a long speech Mr. Gladstone sat in silence. He was accused of

ignorance of English history and disregard for the English Constitution,

rightly so sacred to every Englishman. After midnight he arose to reply.

For two hours he poured forth his matchless eloquence. Not a point had

escaped him. Not a fact or a sentiment of the arraignment had been

overlooked or misplaced. He did not indulge in invective. He made no

counter charges. He emptied out his stores of history. He unfolded and

eulogized the provisions of the British Constitution. He left no

loophole of retreat for his adversaries. He overwhelmed them with the

fulness of his knowledge and his oratory, and routed them most

ignominiously. The noble lady and her friends had no occasion to

celebrate a triumph. Mr. Gladstone’s victory was largely due to his

marvellous power of early study.

My boy, be studious. You will find sometime a market for everything you

know. Be patient in your studies. If things do not seem clear, do not

give up. A dull, hazy morning often turns out a bright day. Dryden would

think for two weeks in the composition of one of his odes. There are few

things which patient labor will not enable one to accomplish.

Difficulties like spectres melt when approached. It is not one stroke of

the axe that fells the tree, or one blow of the hammer that demolishes

the rock, but the repetition. Study everything of advantage, but bend

energy and mind mostly in the line of your life work. Study for what it

will do for you. Study for what you can do for others, and never give up

study.

“_The boy that by addition grows,

And suffers no subtraction;

Who multiplies the thing he knows,

And carries every fraction;

Who well divides his precious time,

The due proportions giving,

To secure success aloft will climb,

Interest compound receiving._”

CHAPTER VIII

Be Temperate

INTRODUCTION TO CHAPTER VIII

BY GEORGE W. BAIN

Intoxicants are like anger, they make us strong,

Blind and impatient, and they lead us wrong;

The strength is quickly lost, we feel the error long.

_Crabb._

Temperance is reason’s girdle and passion’s bridle, the strength of

the soul, and the foundation of virtue.

_Jeremy Taylor._

In all the world there is not to be found an old man, who has been a

total abstainer from intoxicating liquors through all his life, who

regrets the rule he adopted and kept. Such a man was never heard to say:

“I am sorry I did not learn to love wine, whiskey, ale, beer or brandy

when I was young.” This is a very safe rule for young men, that has not

a single exception in all the wide world. On the other hand, how many

have said: “Drink has been my curse”? Take the pledge, boys, keep it,

and you will find it a jewel in nature, a comfort through life, and a

consolation in death.

[Illustration: Geo. W. Bain.]

CHAPTER VIII

BE TEMPERATE

One of the great curses, if not the greatest in our land, is

intemperance. It is productive of murder, lawlessness and crime; the

chief agency in the corruption of the ballot, legislation and

administration of the law; the voracious consumer of purity, reputation

and health, and the chief architect in establishing mad-houses, orphan

asylums, prisons and county farms. It demands and controls annually more

than a billion dollars by which bread, meat, clothing, shoes and sugar

could be purchased for the poor, and all schools and Christian missions

supported. In silver dollars this money could be laid side by side on

the equator till it formed a band around the earth, while the liquor it

purchased would fill a canal twenty feet wide, twenty feet deep and

forty-six miles long. The grain alone used by distilleries in the

manufacture of the destructive drink is fifty million bushels, enough to

furnish three hundred one-pound loaves of bread to each family in the

United States. No wonder that “ninety-nine of every hundred men,” as

John B. Gough said, “are ruined morally, intellectually and religiously

by the use of drink,” and that fifty of every hundred insane persons,

seventy-five of every hundred prisoners, and ninety-six of every hundred

tramps are made thus by this evil. Far better that every boy “touch not,

taste not.” Longfellow said:

“_It will make thy heart sore

To its very core!

Its perfume is the breath

Of the angel of death.

And the light that within it lies

Is the flash of his evil eyes.

Beware! Oh, beware!

For sickness, sorrow and care

Are all there._”

A GREAT STATESMAN’S DOWNFALL.

In one of the older colleges in Massachusetts years ago, there was a boy

of great promise, bearing an honored name, and concentrating in his own

intellect the mental power of generations of ancestors. He was a prodigy

in learning. He seized a language almost by intuition. His person was

faultless; his hair like the raven’s wing, his eye like the eagle’s. On

the day of his graduation he married a charming young lady. His

profession, the law, led him to the highest office of advocacy in the

State. He was Attorney General at an age when most students are admitted

to the bar. Suddenly, when as yet no one knew the cause, he resigned his

high appointment, giving no reasons. He was a secret drunkard. Too high

was his sense of honor, and the importance of his station, to intrust

himself longer with the destinies of society. As years rolled by he sunk

like a mighty ship in mid-ocean, not without many a lurch, many a sign

of righting once more to plow the proud seas that were destined to

entomb him forever. His lovely wife left him, and, returning to her

parents, died of a broken heart. With bowed head at the grave, he wept

bitterly on the head of a dear boy she had left behind. Friends of his,

men of talent and piety, prayed over him, and at times he would get the

better of the demon that ruled him, and again put forth his gigantic

powers. The greatest effort he exerted during this period was in an

important case before the Supreme Court of the United States. Marshall,

the patriarch of American judges, gazed with wonder on the barrister, as

burst after burst of eloquence and oratory followed. George Briggs,

member of Congress from Massachusetts, seeing his splendid portrait

hanging in a conspicuous place at Washington, inquired who it was, and

was told “that is the portrait of Talcott, the brilliant genius, the

most talented man in the United States.” In his last spasm of temperance

he wrote a beautiful tract: “The Trial and Condemnation of Alcohol.”

After a fatiguing argument before a court in the city of New York, he

was over-persuaded by a friend to take a glass of beer. It was his last

sober moment till he was in the agonies of death. Down, down he went and

never rose to assume manliness again. As the fabled phœnix is said to

rise from the ashes of its parent, one of the most noble and eloquent

advocates of temperance proved to be the son of this ruined genius.

A GREAT DELUSION.

It is a great delusion for boys to think it manly to drink. Manliness

implies strength and courage. A drunkard lacks both. He might be brutal,

but he is a coward. Manliness also implies reason, and when we consider

that liquor robs one of this, a boy shows his manliness by letting it

alone and helping others do the same. Liquor is a poison. Incorporated

in it is a deadly drug known as alcohol. Drop a little on the eye and it

destroys the sight. Sprinkle a few drops on the leaf of a plant and it

will kill it. Immerse a tadpole in it and it ceases to live. Drink it

and its action produces weakness, and its reaction nervousness. In a

word, alcohol is the devil’s best drug and the boy’s worst enemy. Said

General Harrison, “I was one of a class of seventeen young men who

graduated at college. The other sixteen now fill drunkards’ graves. I

owe all my health, my happiness and prosperity to a resolution I made

when starting in life, that I would avoid strong drink. That vow I have

never broken.”

WHAT TEMPERANCE DID FOR A MAN.

In 1812 the town of Farmington, New Hampshire, saw a poor boy. When old

enough he was bound out to a farmer. Afterward he learned a trade. He

worked well and studied evenings. A friend took an interest in him and

encouraged him to attend and speak at a political meeting. “How can I be

anything when my father is a drinking man?” he was wont to say. He

solemnly signed the pledge of total abstinence and began speech-making.

Soon the young men said: “Let us send him to the Legislature.” At every

step he did his best. Finally Massachusetts sent a petition by him to

Congress. John Quincy Adams invited him to dinner. While at dinner, Mr.

Adams filled his glass, and turning to the young man, said: “Will you

drink a glass of wine with me?” He hated to refuse, there was the

ex-President of the United States, and a company of great men. All eyes

were upon him, and so he hesitated and grew red in the face, but finally

stammered: “Excuse me, sir, I never drink wine.” The next day the whole

account came out in the Washington papers. It was copied all over

Massachusetts, and the people said: “Here is a man who stands by his

principles. He can be trusted. Let us promote him.” He was made

Congressman and Senator. Finally he became Vice-President of the

country. That farmer-boy was Henry Wilson.

When elected to this office, he gave his friends a dinner. The table was

set without one wine-glass upon it. “Where are the glasses?” asked

several of the guests, merrily. “Gentlemen,” said Mr. Wilson, “you know

my friendship and my obligation to you. Great as they are, they are not

great enough to make me forget the rock whence I was hewn and the pit

whence I was dug. Some of you know how the curse of intemperance

overshadowed my youth. That I might escape I fled from my early

surroundings. For what I am, I am indebted to God, to my temperance vow

and to my adherence to it. Call for what you want to eat, and if this

hotel can provide it, it shall be forthcoming; but wine and liquors can

not come to this table with my consent, because I will not spread in the

path of another the snare from which I escaped.” At this, three rousing

cheers rent the room for the man who had the courage to stand by his

noble convictions.

BE A TOTAL ABSTAINER.

It pays to be a total abstainer. “Abstinence,” said Bishop Spalding, “is

but negative, a standing aloof from what hinders or hurts.” The tendency

of drink is to deaden the moral sensibilities. It weakens the nerves,

impairs the brain, feeds disease and at last “bites like a serpent and

stings like an adder.” On the other hand, “temperance is a bridle of

gold, and he who uses it rightly is more like a god than a man.” Nothing

is so conducive to one’s happiness and success in life. Burdette said,

“Honor never has the delirium tremens; glory does not wear a red nose;

fame blows a horn, but never takes one.”

There is a story told of Hannibal, the great Carthaginian, who fought so

long and so successfully against the Romans, that when he was still a

boy of nine years, his father Hamilcar asked him if he would like to go

to the wars with him. The child was delighted at the thought. “Then,”

said his father, “you must swear that you will, as long as you live,

hate the Romans and fight against them.” Young Hannibal took the oath,

and all through life was the bitter enemy of Rome. He took sides with

his father and his country against the proud foes. The boy who wishes to

succeed in life must incorporate “no liquor” in his resolutions, and

under all circumstances refuse it, choosing rather to be an advocate of

ennobling temperance.

It pays to be a total abstainer, because it is right. It is not so much

a question of dollars saved or happiness promoted as a question of

right. Said Amos Lawrence, “Young men, base all your actions upon a

sense of right, and in so doing, never reckon the cost.” In the army,

drinking and treating were common occurrences. One noble captain had the

heroism to decline the oft-proffered treat. An observer asked, “Do you

always reject intoxicating liquor?” “Yes.” “Do you not take it to

correct this Yazoo water?” “Never.” “You must have belonged to the cold

water army in your youth.” “Yes, but I learned something better than

that; my mother taught me that what is right is right, and coming to

Mississippi makes no difference. It would not be right for me to accept

an invitation to drink at home, it is no more right here; therefore I

don’t drink.” Some time after an officer met a lady who wanted to see

one who had met her boy, naming his office and regiment. He told her of

the noble examples of piety which were found in the army and related the

case of the captain. She exclaimed, “That’s beautiful! That’s beautiful!

His mother must be proud of him.” “Yes, she is, and you are that

mother.” Amid grateful tears she exclaimed, “Is that my boy? Is that my

Will? It’s just like him; I knew he would do so. He was a good boy. He

told me he always would be and I knew he would.” Beautiful trust.

Excellent commendation. Would that it could be said of every boy.

It pays to be a total abstainer for the sake of those who suffer through

intemperance. The good and wise Governor Buckingham, of Connecticut,

gave as his reason for being a total abstainer, “If I indulge, I am not

safe. There is no degradation so low that a man will not sink to it, and

no crime so hellish that he will not commit it, when he is drunk. But if

it could be proved conclusively to my own mind that I could drink and

never be injured, yet I could not be certain but others, seeing me

drink, might be influenced to drink also, and, being unable to stop,

pass on in the path of the drunkard.” Were many more as considerate

there would be less drinking husbands, and less despised and taunted

children because of drunken fathers.

TWO SAD CASES.

Who would ever think of a two-dollar bill relating a sad story and

giving a pathetic warning? Yet such a bill was brought to the office of

a Temperance Union recently. Written in red ink a poor man told what

liquor had done for him, and what it would do for others. Here is what

it said, “Wife, children and $40,000 all gone. I alone am responsible.

All have gone down my throat. When I was twenty-one I had a fortune. I

am now thirty-five years old. I have killed my beautiful wife, who died

of a broken heart; have murdered my children with neglect. When this

bill is gone I do not know how I am to get my next meal. I shall die a

drunken pauper. ’Tis my last money and my history. If this bill comes

into the hands of any man who drinks, let him take warning from my

ruin.”

When Colonel Alexander Hogeland was sitting in his room at Louisville

some years ago, a lame boy knocked at the door. Said he, “My father is

to be hung to-morrow. The Governor will not pardon him. He killed my

mother when he was drunk. He was a good father, and we were always happy

only when he drank. Won’t you go and talk and pray with him, and then

come to our house when his body is brought to us?” The Colonel did as

requested, and found that the demon drink was the sole cause of that

family’s ruin. The father was hung, and when the body was taken to the

home, he was there. Six worse than orphans were curled up on a bundle of

straw and rags, crying with a grief that would make the stoutest heart

quail. The crippled boy but fourteen years of age was the sole support

of the little family. The father’s body was brought in by two officers.

The plain board coffin was rested upon two old chairs, and the officers

hurried out of the room and away from the terrible scene. “Come,” said

the crippled boy, “come and kiss papa’s face before it gets cold;” and

all six children kissed the face of that father, and, smoothing the

brow, sobbed in broken accents, “Whiskey did it. Papa was good, but

whiskey did it.”

My boy, be temperate. Do your best to stop another such scene. Sign the

pledge. Talk against, work against, and when able, vote against the

liquor interests. “Woe to the man or boy who becomes a slave to liquor,”

said General Phil. Sheridan. “I had rather see my son die to-day than to

see him carried to his mother drunk. One of my brave soldier-boys on the

field said to me just before a battle, ‘Tell mother, if I am killed, I

have kept my promise to her. Not one drink have I ever tasted.’ The boy

was killed. I carried the message with my own lips to the mother. She

said, ‘General, that is more glory for my boy than if he had taken a

city.’”

CHAPTER IX

Be Free of the Weed

INTRODUCTION TO CHAPTER IX

BY ASA CLARK

The influence of example is always a powerful one. With such wide-spread

habits as those of tobacco smoking and chewing it is little wonder why

so many boys indulge. They see only the pleasureable side of these

habits; but it devolves upon us, from our daily experience with “the

ills that flesh is heir to” to make known to you young friend the

dangers lurking in these seductive vices. We doctors are often consulted

by victims of these habits, who are quite surprised upon stopping the

use of tobacco to find to what a degree they have become enslaved. That

the baneful effect from the use of tobacco is universally recognized is

evidenced by the fact of its prohibition in schools and naval academies,

and by the laws now in force in several of the States and also in

Germany, making it illegal to sell tobacco to any under sixteen years of

age.

Tobacco is especially injurious to those subjected to severe mental

strain or physical training, and to such as are engaged in delicate

manual work. The symptoms are many. Digestion is sometimes greatly

impaired. On the heart the effect is very noticeable. My advice to boys

is, not to use tobacco in any form.

[Illustration: Asa Clark]

CHAPTER IX

BE FREE OF THE WEED

An old monk was once walking through a forest, with a scholar by his

side. He suddenly stopped and pointed to four plants that were close at

hand. The first was just beginning to peep above the ground, the second

had rooted itself well into the earth, the third was a small shrub,

while the fourth was a full-sized tree. Turning to his young companion

he said: “Pull up the first.” The boy easily did so. “Now pull up the

second.” The youth obeyed, but not so easily. “And now the third.” The

boy had to put forth all his strength, and use both arms, before he

succeeded in uprooting it. “And now,” said the master, “try your hand

upon the fourth.” But although the lad grasped the trunk of the tree in

his arms, he scarcely shook its leaves, and found it impossible to tear

its roots from the earth. Then the wise old man explained to his scholar

the meaning of the four trials.

“This, my son, is just what happens with our bad habits and passions.

When they are young and weak, one may, by a little watchfulness over

self, easily tear them up; but if we let them cast their roots deep down

into our souls, no human power can uproot them. Only the almighty hand

of the Creator can pluck them out. For this reason, my boy, watch your

first impulses.”

ORIGIN AND POISON OF TOBACCO.

Tobacco-using is frequently the beginning and stepping-stone to other

vices. Many who have hesitated in entering a saloon or gambling place

have not done so in the use of tobacco.

The origin of tobacco is shrouded in mystery. Mezen was of the opinion

that the Chinese used it from antiquity. Dr. Lizards says it existed in

Asia from early times. Columbus in his discovery of Cuba tells how he

found the natives “carrying with them firebrands, puffing smoke from

their mouths and noses, which he supposed to be the way they had of

perfuming themselves.”

An ancient tradition relates that there was once a Mohammedan passing

along who found a viper lying in his path, almost chilled to death. In

pity the Moslem stooped, picked up the serpent, and put it into his

bosom to warm it. After a while the viper fully revived and became aware

of its situation. He said to the man, “I’m going to bite you.” “O, no!

please don’t,” said the man. “If I had not taken you up and warmed you,

you would even now have been chilled to death.” The viper replied,

“There has been a deadly enmity existing between your race and mine ever

since the world began, and by Allah, I am going to bite you.” “Very

well,” said the man, “since you have sworn by Allah I will not prevent

you, but bite me here on my hand.” He did so, and the man immediately

placed the wound to his lips and sucked the venom out and spit it on the

ground; and from the place where he spit the poison a little plant

sprang up which was—tobacco.

Though this story be not true, yet true it is that tobacco contains a

very strong poison, known as nicotine, supposed to be “the juice of

cursed Hebanon,” referred to in Hamlet. In one pound of Kentucky and

Virginia tobacco, there is, according to Dr. Kellog, an average of three

hundred and eighty grains of this poison, which is estimated to kill two

hundred and fifty people if applied in its native form. “A single leaf

of tobacco dipped in hot water,” said Dr. Coles, “and laid upon the pit

of the stomach will produce a powerful effect by mere absorption from

the surface. By being applied to a spot where the scarf skin, or

external surface of the skin is destroyed, fearful results are liable to

follow, and no man can use it without being affected by it.”

HOW TOBACCO INJURES.

Tobacco injures physically. “No less,” said Dr. Shaw, “than eighty

diseases arise from it, and twenty-five thousand lives perish annually

from it.” A young man asked Wendell Phillips if he should smoke, and

that statesman answered: “Certainly not. It is liable to injure the

sight, to render the nerves unsteady, to enfeeble the will and enslave

the nature to an imperious habit likely to stand in the way of duty to

be performed.” Many professors of leading colleges have asserted with

figures to prove that boys who begin the tobacco habit are stunted

physically and never arise to the normal bodily development.

Tobacco injures mentally. Beecher said, “A man is what he is, not in one

part, but all over.” And to have a strong mind, one needs a strong

stomach. By the use of tobacco, the stomach is outraged and the brain

becomes narcotized, “the intellect of which,” said Prof. Gause, “becomes

duller and duller until at last it is painful to make any intellectual

effort and one sinks into a sensuous or sensual animal, whose greatest

aspiration is to benumb the nerves and befog the intellect.” Such

assertions may be ridiculed, but as two and two make four, they are

facts. The French government prohibits its use by students in the public

schools. The Swiss government prohibits its sale to juniors. During the

last fifty years no user of it has graduated from Yale, Harvard or

Amherst at the head of his class. Professor Seely, of the Iowa State

Normal, said, “I have not met a pupil who is addicted to the habit who

will go through a single day’s work and have good lessons. I have had

numbers of cases in which they have remained in the same grade for four

successive years and then they were not ready to be advanced into the

next higher grade.” Dr. Herbert Fisk, of the Northwestern University,

Chicago, declared, “A somewhat careful observation of facts has

convinced us that students who get low marks do so through the use of

tobacco. Last year not one of the boys who used tobacco stood in the

first rank of scholarship. This has been the usual rule. One year, out

of thirty-three pupils in the first rank of scholarship, there was but

one user of tobacco.” Dr. Charles A. Blandchard, President of Wheaton

College, said, “Among our former students who are now physicians, the

one who has the largest income never touched tobacco. Two are now judges

of courts in large cities, with salaries of six or seven thousand

dollars. They do not and have not for years used tobacco. Other men, who

after graduation, became smokers, do not exhibit the same mental

ability. They are, some of them, very able men, but they suffer in mind

from the use of tobacco.”

Tobacco injures morally. It heads the list of vices. It is the first

step to bad companionship, lewd conversation and liquor drinking. The

latter and tobacco-using are twin habits; and do you wonder at it when

tobacco is saturated with Jamaica rum; while “plug” tobacco which is

composed of licorice, sugar, cabbage, burdock and the refuse of tobacco

leaves and other weeds, is often found nailed at the bottom of whiskey

barrels? Said Horace Greeley, “Show me a drunkard who does not use

tobacco, and I will show you a white blackbird.” Many medical witnesses

testify that tobacco using and drinking are kindred habits. When an

investigation was made in the State prison at Auburn, N. Y., some years

ago, out of six hundred prisoners confined there for crimes committed

when they were under the influence of strong drink, five hundred

testified that they began their intemperance by the use of tobacco. “In

all my travels,” said John Hawkins, “I never saw but one drunkard who

did not use tobacco.” “Pupils under the influence of the weed,” said

Professor Seely, “are not truthful, practice deception and can not be

depended upon. The worst characteristic of the habit is a loss of

personal self-respect and of personal regard for the customs and wishes

of ladies and gentlemen, especially when among strangers.”

HOW TOBACCO IS USED.

Tobacco is used in two ways, smoking and chewing. Both are filthy,

sickening habits, the latter being the more disgusting. For any boy to

chew is to exemplify bad manners doubtless influenced by bad morals. A

few years ago a call was issued from London, to the scientists of the

world to assemble for the discussion of whatever scientific subjects

might be presented, every statement to undergo rigid scrutiny. One

member said: “Tobacco is not injurious. I have chewed it for fifty

years, and my father for sixty years, without perceptible damage. All

this cry about it is nonsense.” The chairman answered: “Step forward,

sir, and let us canvass this matter thoroughly. How much do you chew?”

“I chew regularly three quids per day, of about this size,” cutting off

three pieces from his plug. One of these was given to a Russian and

another to a French chemist, with “please return the extract.” Then the

presiding officer said, “Will any young man unaccustomed to the use of

tobacco, chew this third quid before the audience? Here are four pounds

($20) to anyone who will.” A young man stepped forward. The audience was

requested to scan his looks, cheeks, eyes and general appearance, before

he took it, and closely watch its effects. He soon became pale from

sickness, then vomited and fainted before the assembly. The extract from

one quid was given to a powerful cat. He flew wildly around, and died in

a few minutes. The other extract was put upon the tongue of a premium

dog, which uttered a yelp, leaped frantically, laid down and expired.

PIPE, CIGAR AND CIGARETTE.

Smoking tobacco is used in three ways, in the pipe, cigar and cigarette.

Neither adds beauty to the face or is conducive to health. It is stated

on good authority that Senator Colfax was stricken down in the Senate

chamber as the result of excessive smoking and from that time smoked no

more. It caused the death of Emperor Frederick through cancer of the

lip, killed Henry W. Raymond, of the New York _Times_, through heart

failure, and struck President Orton and General Dakin down with

paralysis of the heart. Rousseau says, “Excessive smoking cut short the

life of the poet Berat through nervous effect.” It wielded its sceptre

over Royer Collard who died in the dawn of a most brilliant career

through his loved cigar. It produced cancer of the throat, which ended

the life of President Grant and Robert Louis Stevenson. “Out of one

hundred and twenty-seven cancers cut from the lips of persons in a short

time,” says the _Medical Times_, “nearly all were from the lips of

smokers.” What a dangerous luxuriant weed! How quaintly yet truthfully

“Billy” Bray, the Cornish miner, said: “If God intended a man to smoke,

He would have placed a chimney at the top of his head to let the smoke

out!”

Tobacco smoke is poisonous. It contains one of the deadliest vapors

known to man, which so frequently injures the throat. It has also a

poisonous oil which secretes itself in the stem of the pipe. Dr. Brodie

says that he applied two drops of this oil to the tongue of a cat, which

killed it in fifteen minutes. Fontana made a small incision in the leg

of a pigeon and paralyzed it by applying a drop of this oil. The reason

for so many pale-faced, nervous men can be traced to this cause.

But supposing that smoking a pipe is not injurious, is it not unbecoming

a gentleman? Napoleon said, “It was only fit for sluggards.” Gouverneur

Morris, being asked if gentlemen smoked in France, replied, “Gentlemen,

sir! Gentlemen smoke nowhere!” Horace Mann when addressing the teachers

of an Ohio school, said, “The practice is unfit for a scholar or a

gentleman.”

To smoke a cigar may be considered more refined than the use of a pipe.

But whoever heard of refining a vice? Horace Greeley, when addressing a

class of young men on the subject, said, “A cigar is a little roll of

tobacco leaves with a fire at one end and a fool at the other.” At which

end should refinement begin? The cigar is more directly injurious than

the pipe because the user inhales more of the smoke, sucks the weed, and

a greater proportion of the poisonous substance is drawn into the mouth

and filtered through the system, causing dyspepsia, vitiated taste,

congestion of the brain, loss of memory, nervousness and many other

diseases.

THE CIGARETTE.

The worst of all, however, is the cigarette. Sometime ago in New York,

an Italian boy was brought before a justice as a vagrant. He was charged

with picking up cigar stumps from the streets and gutters. To prove this

the policeman showed the boy’s basket, half full of stumps, water-soaked

and covered with mud. “What do you do with these?” asked his honor. “I

sell them to a man for ten cents a pound, to be used in making

cigarettes.” This is not all. In the analysis of cigarettes, physicians

and chemists have been surprised to find opium, which is used to give a

soothing effect, and creates a passion for strong drink. The wrapper

warranted to be rice paper is manufactured from filthy scrapings of rag

pickers, and is so cheap that a thousand cigarettes can be wrapped at a

cost of two cents. By the use of this dangerous thing, thousands of boys

have been mentally and morally ruined. A distinguished French physician

investigated the effect of cigarette-smoking in thirty-eight boys

between the ages of nine and fifteen. Twenty-seven presented distinct

symptoms of nicotine poisoning. Twenty-two had serious disorders and a

marked appetite for strong drink. Three had heart affection. Eight had

very impure blood. Twelve were subject to bleeding of the nose. Ten had

disturbed sleep and four had ulceration of the mouth.

Several years ago Representatives Cockran, Cummings and Stahlnecker, of

New York, petitioned the Government to suppress cigarettes by imposing

an internal revenue tax upon them. During one year they cut clippings

from the papers concerning one hundred young men, mostly under sixteen,

who died from the effects of these murderous things, while another

hundred were consigned to insane asylums for the same cause. Because of

such harmful effects Germany has legislated against it. France, West

Point and Annapolis have closed their doors to the boy that uses it and

more than a score of States in the Union have prohibited their sale.

WHY HE FAILED.

A young man who had failed by only three points in an examination for

admission to the marine corps appealed to his representative in Congress

for assistance, and together they went to see the Secretary of the Navy,

in the hope of securing what is known as a “re-rating” of his papers.

“How many more chances do you want?” asked Secretary Long. “This is your

third time.” And before the young man had a chance to answer, the

Secretary continued, “How do you expect to get along in the world when

you smoke so many cigarettes? Your clothes are saturated with their

odor. Pull off your gloves and let me see your fingers. There, see how

yellow they are!” pointing to the sides of the first and second fingers.

Before the young man found his tongue to offer an explanation the

Secretary asked if he drank. “Only once in a while,” was his sheepish

reply. Mr. Long then invited the Congressman into his private office,

and while offering to do everything that he could added, “I am sick of

trying to make anything of these boys that are loaded with cigarette

smoke and ‘drink once in a while.’ They are about hopeless, it seems to

me.” As they left the department building the young man, half

apologizing for his poor showing, remarked, “Drinking, my father says,

is the bane of the navy.” “I guess it is,” replied the Congressman. “It

is the bane everywhere else, and I should think quite likely it would be

in the navy.”

My boy, let tobacco in any form alone. It is a dirty, dangerous,

expensive habit. It costs this country six hundred and fifty million

dollars annually. Worse than the cost, however, is the injury to body,

mind and soul. Figures cannot enumerate nor scales estimate the evil it

produces. A story is told of a giant who fell in with a company of

pigmies. He roared with laughter at their insignificant stature and

their magnificent pretensions. He ridiculed with fine scorn and sarcasm

their high-sounding threats. When he fell asleep they bound him with

innumerable threads and when he awoke he found himself a helpless

captive.

My boy, ridicule not the contents of this chapter. They are all

important. Heed the warning cry and shun the weed. Many a fair lad has

been stunted in development, lost to ambition, sunk to all appeals to

honor when once in its grasp; therefore let it alone. The God that made

your mouth made the weed, but He did not make the mouth for the tobacco,

nor the tobacco for the mouth. If addicted to it, I charge you stop

right now.

“_To do so, is to succeed—our fight

Is waged in Heaven’s approving sight—

The smile of God is victory._”

CHAPTER X

Be Persevering

INTRODUCTION TO CHAPTER X

BY MARSHALL FIELD

A boy should carefully consider his natural bent or inclination, be it

business or profession. In other words, take stock of himself and

ascertain, if possible, for what he is adapted, and endeavor to get into

that vocation with as few changes as possible. Having entered upon it,

let him pursue the work in hand with diligence and determination to know

it thoroughly, which can only be done by close and enthusiastic

application of the powers at his command; strive to master the details

and put into it an energy directed by strong common sense so as to make

his services of value wherever he is. Be alert, and ready to seize

opportunities when they present themselves. The trouble with most young

people is, that they do not learn anything thoroughly, and are apt to do

the work committed to them in a careless manner; forgetting that what is

worth doing at all is worth doing well, they become mere drones, and

rely upon chance to bring them success. There are others who want to do

that for which they are not fitted, and thus waste their lives in what

may be called misfit occupations. Far better be a good carpenter or

mechanic of any kind than a poor business or professional man.

[Illustration: Marshall Field]

CHAPTER X

BE PERSEVERING

“All things come to him who waits,” is a pretty sentiment, but practical

application hews the way. No great book was ever written at one sitting.

Edward Gibbon was twenty years composing “The Rise and Fall of the Roman

Empire,” and Noah Webster was thirty-five years in producing the

dictionary that bears his name. No great address was the result of a

moment’s inspiration. When Dr. Lyman Beecher was asked how long he was

preparing a certain speech which had electrified his audience, he

answered, “Forty years.” No great invention sprang from a dream. George

Stephenson was fifteen years making improvements on his locomotive

before he won the victory of Rainhill, and when asked by a company of

young men how they might succeed, answered, “Do as I have done;

persevere.”

“_Attempt the end, and never stand to doubt;

Nothing’s so hard but search will find it out._”

THE CHIEF FOREMAN.

One of the great manufacturing firms in Glasgow, Scotland, owes its

prosperity largely to a boy whom they engaged. The story runs that

thirty years ago a barefoot, ragged boy presented himself at the desk of

the chief partner and asked for work as an errand boy. “There’s a deal

of running to be done, and you will need a pair of shoes first,” said

Mr. Blank. The boy, with a grave nod, disappeared. He lived by doing odd

jobs in the market and slept under the stalls. Two months passed before

he had saved money enough to buy the shoes. He then presented himself to

Mr. Blank and held out a package. “I have the shoes, sir,” he quietly

said. “Oh!” the proprietor remarked, “you want a place? Not in those

rags, my lad. You would disgrace the house.”

The boy hesitated a moment and then went out without a word. Six months

passed before he returned, decently clothed in coarse but new garments.

Mr. Blank’s interest was aroused. For the first time he looked at the

lad attentively. His thin, bloodless face showed that he had stinted

himself of food in order to buy those clothes. On questioning him, the

manufacturer found to his regret that he could not read or write. “It is

necessary that you should do both before we could employ you in carrying

home packages,” he said. “We have no place for you.” The lad’s face grew

paler, but without a word of complaint he left. He now found employment

in a stable and went to night school. At the end of a year he again

presented himself before Mr. Blank. “I can read and write,” he joyfully

said. “I gave him the place,” the employer remarked, years after, “with

the conviction that in process of time he would take mine, if he made up

his mind to do it. Men rise slowly in Scotland, but to-day he is our

chief foreman.” How true as St. Paul says in Myer’s poem:

“_Let no man think that sudden in a minute

All is accomplished and the work is done;

Though with thine earliest dawn thou shouldst begin it

Scarce were it ended in thy setting sun._”

WHAT IT MEANS.

No word should be more prominent in any boy’s vocabulary than

perseverance. Industry is a good word, but one may be industrious,

without being persevering, but he cannot be persevering without being

industrious. Perseverance means persistence in any design, steadiness in

pursuit, constancy in progress. It is the bending of all energies in one

direction till the thing is accomplished. Demosthenes was a stammerer.

He would be an orator, and with pebbles in his mouth walked the seashore

articulating, until when Philip threatened to invade Athens, he with

matchless oratory so appealed to the Athenians that they cried, “Let us

fight Philip.” Fight they did, and Greece was saved. James Watt was poor

and unlettered. He sees the lid of the kettle rise and fall by the power

of steam, and from that day bends his mind and hand until in after years

he creates a steam engine. Gutenberg beholds the coarse types of

Lawrence Coster and declares he can do better. After much persecution by

superstitious persons, he shuts himself up in a cell of St. Arbogast

monastery and works early and late till he has carved lead type, made an

ink roller and built a printing press. Marcus Morton wants to be

Governor of Massachusetts. Seventeen times he runs for the position and

at last succeeds. Cyrus Field spends eleven years before he succeeds in

designing and laying the Atlantic cable. Edison makes eighteen hundred

experiments before he discovers the proper substance for the

incandescent light, and six thousand before he solves the problem of

preparing the products of the great iron mills for the blast furnace.

The boy who expects to succeed may have to try many times and face many

opposing forces, but as adverse winds aid the kite to fly, so

difficulties are usually blessings in disguise. To climb Alpine peaks

“will put to proof the energies of him who would reach the summit.”

PERSEVERANCE A NECESSITY.

Nothing guarantees success like persistency; it is more effective than

brilliancy. The faculty of sticking and hanging on when everybody else

lets go is one of the secrets of success. When Congress and the country

were excited over President Johnson’s effort to drive Mr. Stanton from

the Cabinet because he opposed the President’s policy in the South,

Charles Sumner sent the Secretary this message, “Stanton stick.” He did

so to the benefit of the nation. The boy who expects to make his mark in

the world must be a “sticker.” He must “keep everlastingly at it.” With

determination he must conquer opposition and annihilate obstacles. With

Pitt he must trample on so-called impossibilities. “Impossible is not

found in the dictionary of fools,” said Napoleon, when told that the

Alps stood in the way of his conquest. “Impossible,” cried Chatham, when

confined to his room with gout, “who talks to me of impossibilities?”

Lord Anson had sent word that it was impossible to fit out a naval

expedition within a prescribed period. “Tell him that he serves under a

minister who treads on impossibilities.” When Daniel Webster was

speaking at Bunker Hill, the crowd became so large and pressed so near

to him that he shouted: “Keep back! Keep back!” “It is impossible,”

cried some one in the crowd. The orator looked at them a moment and then

said, “Nothing is impossible at Bunker Hill.” And few things are

impossible to persevering lads.

Tamerlane was once forced to take shelter from his enemies in a ruined

building, where he sat discouraged for hours. His attention was at last

attracted by an ant that was carrying a grain of corn larger than itself

up a high wall. Sixty-nine times did the grain fall, but the insect

persevered, and the seventieth time it reached the top. That sight

instilled courage in the bosom of Tamerlane. Robert Bruce, of Scotland,

had a similar experience. On one occasion he was so harassed by the

English that he was compelled to take shelter in a barn over night. In

the morning he saw a spider climbing a beam of the roof. Twelve times in

succession did it fall but the thirteenth time it succeeded in gaining

the top. The object lesson impressed Bruce. Rising, he said: “This

spider has taught me perseverance. I will follow its example. Twelve

times I have been beaten, and the thirteenth time I may succeed.” He

rallied his forces, met and defeated Edward and was crowned king.

Christopher Columbus conceived the idea that undiscovered continents

existed west of the Atlantic, and he determined to test the truth of his

theory. He had many difficulties to contend with, such as poverty and

repeated discouragements. The Court of Portugal disappointed him, his

native city of Genoa would not render him aid, and the city of Venice

refused him. At last he laid his cause before Ferdinand and Isabella,

King and Queen of Spain, and he was about to give up and repair to

France, when the Queen sold her jewels to defray the expenses of the

expedition. Thus assisted, he turned his ships westward and started. On

board his vessel he had ignorance, superstition and mutiny to contend

with, and this continued until the cry of “Land! Land!” came from the

lookout at the top of the mast; then a new world and a glorious triumph

crowned his efforts.

PERSEVERANCE IS REWARDED IF PATIENTLY PURSUED.

Great results are not accomplished in a moment. Sowing precedes reaping.

The wheat must first be sifted and crushed in the mill before it is

baked into bread. The railroad that runs from the Atlantic to the

Pacific coast is but numerous steel rails placed one before the other.

The President in the White House, the general in the army, the judge on

the bench, the orator on the platform reached their positions, not by a

hop-skip-and-jump manner, but by perpetual pushing and concentration of

their energies in one direction. There might have been times when these

were side-tracked and their procedure necessarily slow, but as soon as

the main track was clear, or as soon as they had cleared it, they went

forth with undaunted persistence realizing as the Italian proverb reads:

“Who goes slowly goes long, and goes far,” and contentment was not

theirs till the goal was reached. To such of like determination, in

Richelieu’s words:

“_Fail! Fail!

In the lexicon of youth, which Fate reserves

For a bright manhood, there is no such word as fail!_”

True, many persevering persons fail as men call failure, but it is only

like the tiger’s crouch before a high leap. Discovering the bounds

through a sense of such, life thenceforth turns all its capacities into

right and effective uses. “To change and to change for the better, are

two different things,” says an old German proverb. Pestalozzi, the great

educator, made several failures in early life, which he made stepping

stones to success. Washington’s military career was a series of

failures. He shared in Braddock’s defeat at Fort Duquesne. He was beaten

at Long Island, driven from New York and forced to retreat through New

Jersey and across the Delaware, when he suddenly turned like a lion at

bay, recrossed the icy stream and overwhelmed the Hessians at Trenton.

This rapid movement and his attack at Germantown first led observers

like Frederick the Great to recognize his military genius. Peter Cooper

failed in making hats, failed as a cabinet maker, locomotive builder and

grocer, but as often as he failed he tried and tried again until he

could stand upon his feet alone, then crowned his victory by giving a

million dollars to help poor boys in time to come. Horace Greeley tried

three or four lines of business before he founded the _Tribune_, and

made it worth a million dollars. Patrick Henry failed as merchant and

farmer, but resorting to law and politics was a brilliant success.

Stephen A. Douglas made dinner tables, bedsteads and bureaus many a long

year before he made himself a “giant” on the floor of Congress. Abraham

Lincoln failed to make both ends meet by chopping wood, failed to earn

his salt in the galley-slave life of a Mississippi flat-boatman; he had

not even wit enough to run a grocery, and yet he made himself the

grandest character of the nineteenth century, an emancipator of four

million slaves. General Grant failed at everything. At the age of

thirty-nine he was obscure, at forty-three his picture hung in the homes

of the grateful millions. He first learned to tan hides, but could not

sell leather enough to buy a pair of breeches, then teamed for forty

dollars a month, then entered his father’s store at Galena, Illinois, as

clerk, and to use his own words “nor had I any capacity to become one.”

Then he enlisted as a soldier, was the hero of Appomattox, and

eventually reached the highest position of honor this country can

give—the Presidency. When Daniel Webster was told that his profession of

law was overcrowded and that the chances were against him, he replied,

“Overcrowded? There is always room at the top.” The condition of affairs

is still the same. No reason can be produced why a persevering lad

cannot make his way in the world to-day as in any other day, for as the

philosopher Young declared, “Any man can do what any other man has

done.”

“_There is always a way to rise, my boy,

Always a way to advance!

Yet the road that leads to Mount Success

Does not pass by the way of Chance,

But goes through stations of Work and Strive,

Through the valley of Persevere,

And the man that succeeds, while others fail,

Must be willing to pay most dear._

“_For there’s always a way to fail, my boy,

Always a way to slide,

And the men that you find at the foot of the hill

All sought for an easy ride.

So on and up, though the road be rough

And the storms come thick and fast,

There is room at the top for the man who tries,

And victory comes at last._”

BEGIN NOW.

My boy, be persevering. Form good resolutions. They mean success,

triumph, victory. “He who resolves upon doing a thing, by that very

resolution scales the barriers to it, and secures its achievement. To

determine upon attainment is often attainment itself.” Aim high and

pursue the path accordingly. Let others be indolent and indifferent, but

press toward the goal of your ambition. As Mr. Dickens’ friend would

have us understand, “It’s dogged does it.” “Eustace,” said William

Carey, the founder of modern missions, to his wife, “if they write my

life, and say I am a genius, they will say falsely; but if they say I

can plod, they will tell the truth. Yes, Eustace, I can plod.” “Yes,

sir,” said Whitcomb Riley to one who was nearly heartbroken, because his

manuscripts were constantly returned, “through years, through sleepless

nights, through almost hopeless days, for twenty years I tried to get

into one magazine; back came my manuscripts eternally. I kept on. In the

twentieth year that magazine accepted one of my articles. I was not a

believer in the theory that one man does a thing much easier than any

other man. Continuous, unflagging effort, persistence and determination

will win. Let not the man be discouraged who has these.” “Peg away, keep

pegging away,” was Lincoln’s reply to one who wanted to know what he

intended to do concerning the cessation of the Civil War. Plan carefully

and begin planning now. When Alexander was asked how he had been able to

conquer the world, he said, “By not delaying.” Sir Robert Peel became a

great orator and statesman by practising when a boy before his father,

repeating to the best of his ability any address he heard. Kepler solved

the laws of the planetary system, and exposed the absurd notions of the

Ptolemic theory of axles and cranks by which the planets were strung

together; but it took him seventeen years from the time he began until

he met success, and then he exclaimed in his enthusiasm: “Nothing holds

me! The die is cast! The book is written to be read now or by posterity,

I care not which. It may well wait a century for a reader, since God has

waited six thousand years for an observer.”

To be wavering and dilatory is to close opportunity’s gate and not

infrequently make life unsuccessful. A young man, the son of an old

friend of Mr. Vanderbilt, once solicited his influence in aiding him to

secure a certain very desirable clerkship in a railroad office. Mr.

Vanderbilt, who liked the young man and believed in his ability, agreed

to help him. “Be here to-morrow morning at ten o’clock,” he said, “and I

will go with you to see the president of the road and say a good word

for you.” The next morning at twenty minutes _after ten_ the young man

appeared in the anteroom of Mr. Vanderbilt’s office. He was informed

that Mr. Vanderbilt had left fifteen minutes before to attend a meeting.

A few days later he called on Mr. Vanderbilt, and said, with a shade of

annoyance in his tone: “Why, Mr. Vanderbilt, I was here just after ten.”

“But the appointment was ten,” replied Mr. Vanderbilt. “It was only a

matter of fifteen or twenty minutes,” said the young man. “Well,”

answered Mr. Vanderbilt, “the twenty minutes in your case have lost you

the position, for the appointment was made the very day on which you

were to have met me. Furthermore, let me tell you, you had no right to

assume that twenty minutes of my time was of so little value that I

could afford to wait for you. Why, sir, I managed to keep two other

appointments of importance within that time.”

Be prompt. Keep in mind the words Edmond Burke wrote on a tablet for the

Marquis of Rockingham, “Remember-Resemble-Persevere.” Judson when

completing the translation of the Bible into the Burmese language said,

“Thanks be to God, I can now say I have attained.” Arago, the great

French astronomer, tells how he became so discouraged in the study of

mathematics that he almost resolved to abandon his efforts. He was just

about ready to give up when he happened to notice something printed or

written under the paper binding of his book. He unfolded the leaf, and

found it was a letter from D’Alembert, which read, “Go on, sir; go on!

The difficulties you meet will resolve themselves as you advance.

Persevere, and the light will dawn and shine with increasing clearness

upon your path.” This striking passage made an impression upon the young

mathematician’s mind which he never forgot. It was a perpetual spur to

his ambition, and came to him just in the nick of time. He resolved then

and there that he would surmount every difficulty; that he would become

a great mathematician and ere long Fame crowned him as one of the

greatest astronomers of his time. Go on, my boy! There’s not a

profession or business but

—“_Wants a lad who has no fear

Of steady, plodding work;

Who does not wait for luck or fate

Who scorns a task to shirk._

_Who slowly, surely, digs his way

Through problems hard a score,

And still has grit and courage left

To try as many more._

_Who does not wait for help to come

From fairy, witch or elf,

But laying hold on Fortune’s wheel

Turns it around himself._

_Who knows that luck is but a myth

And faith is but a name;

That Plod and Push and Perseverance

At last will win the game._”

TRIPLET MAXIMS.

Three things to do—think, live, act.

Three things to govern—temper, tongue, and conduct.

Three things to cherish—virtue, goodness and honor.

Three things to hate—cruelty, arrogance and ingratitude.

Three things to like—cordiality, goodness and cheerfulness.

Three things to delight in—beauty, frankness and freedom.

Three things to avoid—idleness, loquacity and jesting.

Three things to cultivate—good looks, good friends and good humor.

Three things to shun—Satan, sin and selfishness.

PART II

Relation to Others

CHAPTER XI

Be Dutiful

INTRODUCTION TO CHAPTER XI

BY T. T. GEER

Happy the _boy_, and happy he alone,

He, who can call to-day his own;

He who, secure within, can say

To-morrow do thy worst, for I have lived to-day.

—_Dryden._

Disobedience to parents is one of the fruitful sources from which our

Reform Schools are filled, and, afterward, as a result of which, many

young men drift into our penitentiaries. We often find fault with our

lawmakers, and sometimes justly, but it is a comforting thought, that if

all our laws, bad as some of them may be, were obeyed at all times by

everybody, there would be no inmates of our Reform Schools or

Penitentiaries, provided there should be no violation of parental

authority, as well.

Obedience to law, parental and governmental, would bring absolute

happiness to our homes and hearts as nearly as such a condition is

possible with our earthly surroundings. Let the boys remember this at

all times, and build on this foundation early in life a structure that

will always prove a valuable and invaluable investment.

[Illustration: T. T. Geer]

CHAPTER XI

BE DUTIFUL

In this second portion of our subject, we find that relationship

broadens. Instead of dealing only with ourselves, we deal with others.

Man is a social being, but is only worthy of that name as he seeks to

make society happier and better by his presence. Each day every boy is

compelled to choose between two courses of conduct, duty and

disobedience. The one, however great the cost, is accompanied by a sense

of right; the other, which demands no effort, by anguish and peril. No

boy need hesitate to be dutiful. Conscience dictates, reason approves,

and though the triumphs of genius might be more dazzling, the chances of

good fortune more exciting, yet he who heeds the counsel will profit

thereby, daring nobly, willing strongly and succeeding admirably.

TRUE TO THE LAST.

In the Museo Brobonico, at Naples, are seen the helmet, lance and

breastplate which were used by a pagan sentinel at Pompeii. It is

thought that the soldier who used them was on duty when Mount Vesuvius

began to rain burning lava upon the city. While others fled, he stood by

his post. Of Wellington it was said: “He never boasted of a higher

motive and perhaps never thought of one, than duty.” Admiral Nelson

while standing on the deck of his vessel received a mortal wound, and on

being afterward assured that the conquest was theirs, exclaimed: “Thank

God, I have done my duty,” and died. When Frederick the Great was about

to engage in the great battle of Lutzen he ordered all his officers to a

conference at which he said: “To-morrow I intend giving the enemy

battle, and the battle shall decide who are hereafter to be masters of

Silesia. I expect every one to do his duty. Now, if any of you are

cowards, step forward before you make others cowardly, and you shall

immediately receive your discharge without ceremony or reproach.” As

none stepped forward he said: “I see there is none among you who does

not possess true heroism, and who will not display it in defence of the

king, the country and himself. I will be in the front and rear, and will

fly from wing to wing; no company of my soldiers shall escape my notice,

and whomsoever I find doing his duty, upon him will I heap honor and

favor.”

WHAT DUTY IMPLIES.

“Duty” may be defined as the thing that can be done, because it is the

thing that ought to be done. To be dutiful implies a respect and

reverence for others who are placed in authority in whatever capacity,

parental, official or governmental. “It is,” said Gladstone,

“coextensive with the action of our intelligence. It is the shadow which

cleaves to us, go where we will, and which only leaves us when we leave

the light of life.” Fortunate the boy who is not an orphan, and blessed

is he who knows how to appreciate his parents. If God has been kind to

spare father and mother, every boy should be good enough to respect

them. Nothing is more unbecoming than forward or contemptuous conduct

toward them. The great proverb writer, thousands of years ago, said:

“The eye that mocketh at his father, and despiseth to obey his mother,

the raven of the valley shall pick it out, and the young eagles shall

eat it.” That is, he shall come to an untimely end. The boy who heeds

parental counsel shall be included in the promise of the first

commandment: “Honor thy father and thy mother, that thy days may be long

upon the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee.”

WHY A BOY SHOULD OBEY HIS PARENTS.

A boy should obey his parents because God commands it. It is a law

written in our natures as well as in the Bible. General Hancock once

hastily rose from his table and exclaimed, “I left my boy on London

Bridge, and told him to wait there till I came back.” He hastened to the

spot, and there the brave boy was, and had been for several hours! Such

obedience was the groundwork of a noble character.

Obedience to parents is an evidence of Christian piety. It ought to be

prompt, cheerful and without protest. Such gives great pleasure to them,

and no less to the boy. When Epamimondas, one of the greatest generals

of Greece, conquered Sparta and delivered his own country he was greatly

applauded. “My joy,” said he, “arises from my sense of that which the

news of my victory will give my father and mother.” Disobedience

produces the keenest suffering in them, which sooner or later reacts on

the boy. “A wise son heareth his father’s instruction; but a scorner

heareth not rebuke.” “A foolish son is a grief to his father, and

bitterness to his mother.” Samuel Johnson was a disobedient lad. His

parents were poor and he had difficulties sometimes which seemed almost

insurmountable, till he passed his fifteenth year. His father was a

bookseller in Litchfield, England. On market-days he used to carry a

package of books to the village of Uttoxeter, and sell them from a stall

in the market-place. One day he was sick and Samuel was asked to go in

his place. From a silly pride he refused to comply. Fifty years after

this boy became the celebrated author and compiler of the English

Dictionary, and one of the most distinguished scholars in England, but

he never forgot his unkindness to his hard-toiling father. When he

visited Uttoxeter he determined to show his sorrow and repentance. Going

into the market-place at the time of business, he uncovered his head and

stood there for an hour in a pouring rain, on the very spot where the

book-stall used to stand. “This,” said he, “was an act of contrition for

my disobedience to my kind father.”

A boy should obey his parents because God’s law contains a reason: “That

thy days may be long upon the land.” Obedience is here shown to be

conducive to long life and prosperity. By it the boy learns

self-control, and a prompt submission as a principle of action. “Such a

boy in all probability will soon become a man of like character. He will

obey the laws of health. Entering business, he will obey the laws of

success, industry, perseverance, economy and enterprise. His powers

under full control, he also will be a law-abiding citizen in society.

Such character tends to long life and the enjoyment of the gift of God.”

OBEDIENT SONS.

When Washington was a young man he wanted to be a sailor, and his mother

gave a reluctant consent. All things were ready. The ship lay off in the

river. His trunk was in the boat which waited to take him to it. Going

to bid his mother good-bye he found her in tears. At once he ordered his

trunk returned and sent word to the ship that he would not go. “I will

not break my mother’s heart to gratify myself,” he said, and his mother

replied, “George, God has promised to bless those who honor their

parents and He will surely bless you.” Did He not do it? He lived to be

nearly seventy years of age and became not only a prosperous man, but

the first President of his country. “I was sure,” said his mother, “that

George would be a great man, because he was a good boy.”

Coming home from the hay-field, a tired and hungry youth was met by his

father at the gate and requested to go on an errand to the town, two

miles away. His first impulse was to refuse. A better thought came into

his mind, and he consented cheerfully. “Thank you,” said the father;

“you have always been good to me. I was going myself, but somehow I

don’t feel very strong.” Again the father thanked his son and turned to

the house. The son hurried away, and soon returned. As he neared the

house he saw that something unusual had occurred. The farm hands instead

of being at the barn as usual at that time of the day were standing

about the door of the house. As the son approached, one of the men

turned to him with tearful eyes and said, “Your father is dead. He fell

just as he reached the door. The words he spoke to you were the last he

uttered.” Years passed, and that son relating this incident said, “I

have thanked God over and over again for the last words of my father on

earth, ‘You have always been good to me.’”

A boy should obey his parents because of the happiness and influence

that come through it. A disobedient boy can in no wise be happy, while

he who loves his parents and seeks their pleasure will have no reason to

the contrary.

In St. Stephen’s Church, Philadelphia, one Sunday a tramp was numbered

among the worshippers. His face was seamed by the lines caused by

dissipation. His shabby clothes were in striking contrast with the

handsome attire of those in the audience. When Dr. Wood, the blind

organist, touched the keys of his instrument, and began to play a soft,

sweet melody, the man’s eyes filled with tears and he buried his face in

his hands. During the singing of the Litany he sobbed aloud, but when

Dr. McConnell in reading the commandments came to “Honor thy father and

thy mother,” the man, unable to restrain himself longer, cried, “Would

to God I had done so, I would not be where I am.”

When Charles Lamb was a lad his father sent him to the school of

Christ’s Hospital. He was very unfitted to make his way among the boys,

for he was small and delicate. There was a great dislike throughout the

school against certain articles of food; Charles was seen to gather up

the morsels left after dinner and carry them away. Persevering in this

practice two of his school fellows determined to follow him and find out

the mystery. Charles entered a large old building in Chancery Lane, went

upstairs and knocked at one of the doors at which an old man and woman

presented themselves. The boys went back and triumphantly told the

steward what they had discovered. He, being a just man, investigated the

matter and found that the old people were Charles’ parents, who had been

reduced to great need. The news went from one to another. His fellow

pupils immediately fell in love with him, the governor heard of it, and

gave relief to the parents, and presented the boy with a silver medal.

DID WHAT NAPOLEON COULD NOT DO.

In this connection a few words are not amiss regarding one’s duty to

those in authority. Honor is becoming those who are set over us at

school or work. The spirit of obedience is not so much in words as

deeds. Deeds show what we are, words what we claim to be.

On one occasion an English farmer saw a party of horsemen riding over

his farm. He had a field he was particularly anxious they should not

enter as the crop was in condition to be greatly injured by the tramp of

horses. He therefore dispatched one of the young farm hands, a lad of

about thirteen years of age, to shut the gate and on no account permit

anyone to open it. The boy went as bidden, but was scarcely at his post

when the hunters came up and ordered the gate opened. This the boy

declined to do, stating the orders he had received and his determination

to obey them. Neither threats nor bribes would move him. After a while

one of lofty dignity advanced and said in commanding tones, “My boy, do

you not know me? I am the Duke of Wellington. I am not accustomed to be

disobeyed, and I command you to open the gate that my friends and I may

pass through.” The boy lifted his cap and stood uncovered before the man

whom all England delighted to honor, and in firm tone said, “I am sure

the Duke of Wellington would not wish me to disobey the orders of my

master, who has told me to keep this gate shut, and not suffer anyone to

pass.”

Greatly surprised and pleased at this reply, the sturdy old warrior

lifted his own hat and said, “I honor the man or boy who is faithful to

his duty, and who can neither be bribed or frightened into doing wrong.

With an army of soldiers as trustworthy as that, I could conquer not

only the French but the world.” Then handing him a glittering sovereign,

the old Duke put spurs to his horse and galloped away with his

companions, while the boy ran off to his master shouting at the top of

his voice: “Hurrah! hurrah! I’ve done what Napoleon could not do. I’ve

kept back the Duke of Wellington!”

DUTIFUL TO ALL.

Society can only exist under certain regulations which pure-minded and

noble legislators have enacted, and which everyone pronounces right. It

therefore devolves upon every boy to do his part in sustaining these

laws and to have a care for those who may have no tie binding them to us

except the common tie of humanity. His motto should be, “Do unto others

as ye would that they should do unto you,” desiring in life and asking

in death no epitaph greater than that of the Earl of Shaftesbury, who,

being presented with a donkey by the coster-mongers of London said, “I

ask nothing beyond this, that with patience as great and a resignation

as unmurmuring as that of this donkey I may do my duty.”

What a phrase! “My duty.” Not my brother’s duty, or my chum’s, but _my_

duty. My duty to God, to parents, to others and to myself. When once the

son of the Czar of Russia was visiting America some years ago as a

subordinate officer of the ships of the Russian fleet, a citizen of

Philadelphia, who was entertaining the admiral in command, asked him as

to the position of the Grand Duke on board. “How is he addressed?” was

asked. “Always as ‘Lieutenant,’” was the reply. “Does he do regular duty

as an officer, on watch in his turn?” “Certainly. There is only one

difference between him and the other officers. He is always more

faithful to duty than anyone else.”

What a tribute! What was said of this royal son, may be said of every

boy. “Let us be found doing our duty, if this be the day of judgment,”

said Colonel Davenport in the legislative council of 1780 at Hartford.

An eclipse of the sun so darkened the room and surrounding country that

many thought it was the day of God’s wrath. Live such a life that no

matter when the judgment comes, you may be found doing your duty, thus

meriting the eulogy conferred upon Colonel Hutchinson: “He never

professed the thing he intended not, nor promised that he believed out

of his power, nor failed in the performance of anything that was in his

power to fulfill.” In all circumstances of life and dealings with others

“_Do noble things, not dream them all day long,

And so make life, death, and that vast forever,

One grand sweet song._”

CHAPTER XII

Be Honest

INTRODUCTION TO CHAPTER XII

BY FRANCIS E. WARREN

To be honest, as this world goes,

Is to be one picked out of ten thousand.

—_Shakespeare._

All other knowledge is hurtful to him who has not honesty and good

nature.—_Montaigne._

The best that a boy or man can do is to be honest. He will find honesty

profitable; not only will it pay in a material way, but it will bring

satisfaction with self, and will command the esteem and admiration of

all with whom he comes in contact. Without honesty of purpose and act,

there can be no substantial or lasting success either in business or any

other undertaking in life. Be honest, in order that you may be

successful and content, as well.

[Illustration: Francis E. Warren]

CHAPTER XII

BE HONEST

“Honesty is the best policy” cannot be excelled as a moral maxim. As an

aphorism it cannot be revoked. He who heeds it will avoid wrong, but he

who disregards it will cease to do right. The word is sometimes used in

a legal sense as that which is determined and enforced by law, sometimes

in a worldly way as that which looks to public opinion as its motive and

end, but Webster defines it “to be upright, just, fair in dealing with

others, free from trickishness and fraud; acting and having the

disposition to act at all times according to justice or correct moral

principles.” That boy who adheres to these, is, as Pope declared, “The

noblest work of God.”

That there are tricks in all trades is an acknowledged fact, and when

resorted to to secure advantage over another, it is nothing less than

theft, which is fraught with peril and liable to bitter remorse.

“_A little theft, a small deceit,

Too often leads to more;

’Tis hard at first, but tempts the feet

As through an open door.

Just as the broadest river runs

From small and distant springs,

The greatest crimes that men have done

Have grown from little things._”

DISHONESTY AND ITS RESULT.

At a general election in England, a candidate personally unknown to the

voters of a certain borough was asked by party leaders to do his best

for election. He belonged to a good family and was a lawyer of promise

in London. His path to success was open, as the borough belonged to his

party. When he mounted the platform to address the electors, his eyes

fell upon a board opposite, on which was scrawled with charcoal: “Forty

Pounds!” He suddenly became pale and confused, stumbled through a short

speech, and then hurriedly left the stand.

A few days later he rose to speak in another town, and again the

mysterious words written on the wall confronted him. Again he left the

platform, and that night retired from the contest for the seat in

Parliament. Not long after he disappeared from public life, and retired

to an English colony where he hid himself on a ranch. It was found that

the words referred to a theft committed in his youth, which he supposed

had been forgotten, but which had clung to him all these years. Lapse of

time had not concealed it, and when on the verge of victory, defeat

through someone’s reminder and a gnawing conscience pushed him from the

race.

EXAMPLES OF HONESTY.

Honesty is a trait of character which sets a boy off to advantage. He

has no dark shadows or corroding memories to fear. The idea that some

boys have, “Make money, honestly if you can, but if not, make it

anyway,” is wrong. Madison C. Peters says, “Capital is not what a man

has, but what a man is.” He who is honest will not take a pin from

another, would not represent an article to be what it is not, gives the

equivalent for the price paid whether seen or unseen. The boy when

exhorted to steal some fruit as no one would see him, had the right idea

of honesty when he remarked: “Yes, there would, for I should see myself,

and I don’t intend ever to see myself do a dishonest thing.”

Abraham Lincoln, when a clerk in a grocery store, made a mistake of a

few ounces when selling tea to a little girl. In the evening he walked

between two and three miles to rectify the mistake. When the State

officials of Illinois advocated the policy of repudiation of a part of

the public debt, Stephen A. Douglass was carried on a mattress from his

hotel to the meeting where the repudiation was about to be adopted. He

wrote a resolution which he offered as a substitute for the repudiation

ordinance, which carried: “_Resolved_, That Illinois will be honest,

although she never pays a cent.” Adam Clark when a boy worked in a linen

factory. In company with his master he was working in the folding room,

when one of the pieces was found short of the required number of yards.

“Come,” said the merchant, “it is but a trifle. We can soon stretch it

and make out the yard.” He thereupon unrolled the cloth, taking hold of

one end of it himself, and the boy the other. “Pull, Adam, pull,” he

said, pulling with all his might, but the boy stood still. The master

said: “Pull, Adam.” “I can’t,” replied the boy. “Why not?” asked the

master. “Because it is wrong.” A long argument followed, in which the

usages of the trade were strongly and variously enforced, but all in

vain. Upon this the master told him that such a boy would not do for a

linen manufacturer, and would better look out for some other employment

more congenial to his own mind. He did so, and in after years, through

hard work, became eminent as a writer and preacher.

HOW HE BECAME A MILLIONAIRE.

Years ago, in a town of Germany, a poor boy lived in an old house. He

formed this resolution: “Honesty in everything and with everybody.” The

street in which he lived was in the middle of the city, yet quiet and

retired. This boy was eager to make money; but, dearly as he loved it,

he loved honesty and integrity more. When he reached manhood, he married

a young woman of sterling character. She was beautiful and good. Their

house was neat and their furniture simple. In one of the closets was a

set of old Dresden china. Behind the china closet there was another,

which no one would ever have suspected being there. To get to it the

china had to be lifted out and the tight-fitting panels taken apart.

One night, as they were about to retire, a faint knock was heard at the

door. The young man opened it, and who should be there but the prince.

He was invited to enter. After the young man had stirred up the fire and

made things pretty comfortable, the prince told his errand. He was about

to leave his home in the city, to go he did not exactly know where. He

did not care to have any person know his whereabouts. The officers of

the government were angry with him, and he was about to leave to get out

of their way. But he had some valuable treasures which he did not wish

to carry with him; and, having heard of the integrity of this young man,

he desired to leave them in his care, offering to pay him for his

trouble. The young man declared himself pleased to accommodate his

prince. “I have it here,” said the prince, and he drew a wide girdle

from under his vest. It was double, and was held together by springs

which could not be seen. It was lined with soft wool, and in the wool

lay the treasure, a collection of the most precious and dazzling stones.

The young man closed the window shutter tight, then with his wife took

down the china from the closet, slipped aside the closely-fitting panels

and secreted the girdle in a little place under one of the shelves. Then

the panels were carefully put back, the china put in its place and the

closet doors shut. To look at it, one would never have dreamt that there

was any treasure there more than the old china. The prince thanked his

new friends, shook their hands heartily and started off.

Months and years passed. The couple worked early and late. Indeed they

had to, as by this time their family had increased and their little sons

would some day need education. After a time the French made war on the

Germans. Frankfort, the city of this family, felt it sadly. A great many

people had to flee for their lives, amongst whom were these honest

folks. The soldiers went into their house, searched and carried off

everything that was worth taking. Then the war closed, and the people

returned. Years after this the prince came back. He had heard as a

wanderer about the different countries how many of the poor of his city

had suffered. He quietly settled down in a country home, not far from

the city, and never thought of going after his treasures, supposing they

had either been stolen in the ransacking of the house, or that the young

man in whose care he had left them had used them for his own wants or

those of his family. He was not thoroughly acquainted however with the

character of him to whom he had committed his treasures. One morning

while he was at breakfast he was told that a person wished to see him on

business. The man was ordered to be conducted to his presence. Who

should it be but his old friend? The prince was as glad to see him as he

was surprised. “I came,” said the man, “to talk with you about the

treasure you left me.” “Oh, don’t mind that at all,” interrupted the

prince, “but come and take some breakfast with me. I pray, don’t mention

the affair. I am glad it was there to do you good at a time when you

must have needed it so much. Sit down and let us drink this coffee and

forget all about it.”

The man took the chair which was offered him, and as he sat down, he

said: “Believe me, Prince, your treasure is safe. The robbers went again

and again to the old china closet, and took every dish and cup away,

and, indeed, almost everything else that belonged to us, but, thanks to

God, they did not find your treasure. When we went back to our house we

found it in exactly the same spot where you saw us place it, and there

it is now. It only awaits your order to be restored to you as you gave

it.” The prince was astonished, and said, “Really, my friend, I scarcely

believed that such virtue was to be found anywhere. But I see now that a

man’s integrity may stand the hardest trial. You have taught me to have

a better opinion of human nature.”

A few days later the prince called at the house and received his girdle

without a stone missing. So delighted was he that not only did he reward

him liberally, but everywhere he went he told the story. He did not

think that all the presents he could give him would reward him

sufficiently, so he wished to make him famous. He succeeded. The world

heard the tale, and the humble man soon became the friend of princes and

nobles. His sons were educated in the same principles of honesty and

integrity, and the whole commercial world learnt to honor his name. At

this day the families are scattered about in the greatest cities of

Europe and are able to control the wealth of nations. Their possessions

are immense. That poor boy was no other than Rothschild, and his sons

and grandsons have been and still are the world’s greatest bankers.

BE EMINENT IN HONESTY.

My boy, be honest. Nothing is safer, more honorable or right. As such it

is better than might and worth more than gold. It hurts no man, but

wields an influence that commands the admiration of man and God.

When Longfellow was seventeen years of age he wrote to his father:

“Whether nature has given me any capacity for knowledge or not, she has,

at any rate, given me a very strong predilection for literary pursuits,

and I am almost confident in believing that, if I can ever rise in the

world, it must be by the exercise of my talent in the field of

literature. Whatever I study ought to be engaged in with my soul, for _I

will be eminent in something_.”

It is possible, practical, yea, absolutely necessary for any boy who

would be eminent in any vocation to be first of all eminent in honesty

or purpose in dealing with himself and others. Lowell was built on the

Merrimac river. Dams and canals were constructed to conserve the water

power. At that time there was no competent engineer in America, so a

young Englishman by the name of Francis was brought over. After looking

over the work done, he went to the directors of the company and said,

“Gentlemen, you must rebuild Lowell and the works.” “We can’t do that,”

was the answer, “we have spent large sums and must take a risk.” “Then,

gentlemen,” said Francis, “here is my resignation.” The directors after

thinking of the awful flood that had swept that valley years before,

reconsidered and rebuilt under the young man’s direction. One year later

a flood came and the town and works stood the test. Honesty always does.

CHAPTER XIII

Be Just

INTRODUCTION TO CHAPTER XIII

BY A. S. ZOOK

“Be just,” is a mandate from the Court of Conscience. The law of that

forum is the “Golden Rule:” “All things whatsoever ye would that men

should do unto you, do ye even so unto them.”

If you would be just, never change the venue of your cases from the

forum of your conscience, even though you might, outside the vicinage of

conscience, be the winner every time. Venue changes from one civil forum

to another, often brand the taker as a coward. Frequently it happens in

the business world and in social trials, if one shies around the court

of conscience in selecting his tribunal, he may win a verdict that will

bear no scrutiny thereafter in the Court of Error, Supreme on High!

Be just to self, unmarred by vice; just to parents as admonished by the

words: “Honor thy father and thy mother;” just to brother and sister,

and thus respect the home that sent you forth. The animals that serve us

nobly should be treated justly. Shame and indignation rest upon the one

who harshly treats the noble horse.

Justice rules the throttle of the heart of him who glides along the way

of life, and teaches him to render unto man his proper dues at every

station on the journey.

[Illustration: A. S. Zook]

CHAPTER XIII

BE JUST

Archbishop Abbot of Canterbury when preaching the funeral sermon of Lord

Buckhurst, did not dwell on his merits as a statesman, or his genius as

a poet, but upon his virtues as a man in relation to the ordinary duties

of life. “How many rare things were in him,” said he, “one of which was

justice.” The first and most essential exercise of love toward other

persons is respect of their rights. It is a virtue that will govern

one’s thoughts, engineer one’s actions, influence one’s life, and

command the universal esteem of mankind.

To be just means to deal fairly with others. It is conformity to the

principle of right, truthfulness to promise, faithfulness to engagement

and trustworthiness in every capacity. True, it is not always done. In

business, wrong methods, short measures, false weights are often used.

In society misrepresentation seems to hold an important part, but no boy

need resort to such measures, for he can succeed without them.

JUSTNESS POSSIBLE AND PROFITABLE.

When Athens was governed by the thirty tyrants, Socrates was summoned to

the Senate Chamber and ordered to go with others whom they named, to

seize one Leon, a man of rank and fortune whom they determined to slay

that they might enjoy his estate. This commission Socrates positively

refused. “I will not willingly,” said he, “assist in an unjust act.” One

of the tyrants sharply replied, “Dost thou think, Socrates, to talk in

this high tone, and not suffer?” “Far from it,” replied he, “I expect to

suffer a thousand ills, but none so great as to do unjustly.”

Percy tells of a Persian king who desired a little salt to season some

venison while on a hunting expedition. One of his attendants went to a

neighboring village and took some by force. The king, suspecting the

theft, ordered that he should immediately go and pay for it, saying:

“This is a small thing in itself, but a great one as regards me, for a

king ought always to be just, because he is an example to his subjects,

and if he swerves in trifles he will become dissolute. If I cannot make

all my subjects just in the smallest thing, I can at least show them

that it is possible for me to be so.”

THE INJUSTICE OF A MOORISH KING.

Injustice in word or deed, however small, is a crime, which may benefit

the doer for a time, but which will eventually pain him more than him to

whom it is done. “If thou hadst,” said Carlyle, “all the artillery of

the world marching at thy back in the support of an unjust thing, it

would not be a success. If the thing is not just thou hast not

succeeded.” A Moorish king desired to purchase a piece of ground from a

woman who preferred to keep it. Thereupon the king seized it and built

upon it a pavilion. The poor woman complained to the cadi and he

promised to do all in his power to make it right. One day, while the

king was in the field, the cadi came with an empty sack and asked to

fill it with the earth on which he was treading. Having obtained leave

he filled the sack, and then requested the king to complete his kindness

by helping him load it on his horse. The monarch laughed, and tried to

lift it, but soon let it drop, complaining of its great weight. “It is

however,” said the cadi, “only a small part of the ground thou hast

wrested from one of thy subjects; how then wilt thou bear the weight of

the whole field, when thou shalt appear before the great Judge laden

with thine iniquity?” The reproof was severe. The conscience of the king

troubled him now like a rawhide lash, and he restored the field to its

owner, together with the pavilion and the wealth it contained.

TO WHOM TO BE JUST.

When William the Conqueror left the shores of France eight centuries

ago, to make conquest of England, the figure-head of the royal galley in

which he sailed, and which led the fleet, was a golden boy pointing the

way across the channel to England and to victory. Significant the

symbol! What the future will be depends on the boys of the present, and

if they point with justness toward themselves and others, it will mean

the ushering in of a golden era.

In being just, every boy should love himself to that extent to deal

honorably with every faculty of his nature, giving it due authority in

the government of his conduct. He should not allow his affections to be

loose, his will to run haphazard like a clock without a pendulum, or his

appetite to be always gratified, like the voracious whirlpool of

Niagara, but with self-respect he should make them subservient to his

better nature. In his early political days, President Garfield was urged

to do some doubtful political action. He replied: “It is impossible, I

must eat and sleep and live constantly with James A. Garfield; and I am

bound to have his good opinion of my conduct, even if I must forfeit

that of everybody else.”

“Here, sir, clean my boots,” said a British officer to Andrew Jackson,

who, when a boy of thirteen was captured in the Revolutionary War. “I am

a prisoner of war, sir, and I look for such treatment as I am entitled

to.” The officer flew into a rage, and, drawing his sword, aimed a blow

at the boy’s head. To ward it off Andrew raised his arm and the sharp

blade cut the flesh to the bone. Years after when Andrew was President

of the United States he would point to it as an evidence of the

officer’s injustice to him, when the rules of war acknowledged that he

was simply exercising justness to himself.

Every boy should also be just to others. “Do unto others as ye would

they should do unto you” is a good motto. Following this, what a

delightful world this would be. Better wages would be given, the poor,

crime and criminals would decrease; less trickery would be associated

with business, and a better standard in measuring one’s conduct would be

used.

There once lived in Marseilles an elderly man who was considered a

miser, because he carried on a flourishing business, yet never seemed to

spend any more than he could help. He lived alone in one room, dressed

poorly and never allowed himself any luxuries. People pointed the finger

of scorn at him on the street, children mocked him as he passed, yet he

never resented their unkindness. At last he was missed. Search being

made, he was found dead in his room. In his hand was a paper. It proved

to be a will by which the whole of his great fortune was given to

provide the city of Marseilles with free and pure water for the use of

all. For this object he had spared and saved and suffered shame and

abuse, that the very people who had ill-treated him might be given this

blessing for which they suffered. He had been unjustly criticised,

because the people did not understand his motive. How much better to

speak and act justly! Cruel words wound, cruel actions crush. They may

not be the most severe, but as a mouse can trouble an elephant, a gnat

worry a lion, a flea disgust a giant, so these little unjust words and

works make life unpleasant to those to whom they are done. Better employ

Maximilian’s motto, “Let justice be done though the heavens fall,” for

such will finally triumph for good.

REWARD OF JUSTICE.

To be just on all occasions demands concentration of one’s moral powers,

as the capture of a strong city sometimes demands the forces both of

land and sea. It is easy to be just to a friend, but one cannot afford

to be otherwise to an enemy. Justice knows no class or caste. Thus the

Egyptians represented it as a human form without hands or eyes,

indicating that he accepted no bribes, knew no difference between friend

or foe, was not influenced by fear or favor, but decided every case on

its merits.

A MEMORIAL OF JUSTICE.

During the reign of Frederick, king of Prussia, there was near Potsdam a

mill which interfered with a view from the window of his palace. Annoyed

by this inconvenience to his favorite residence the king sent to inquire

the price for which it would be sold. “For no price,” was the reply of

the sturdy Prussian. In a moment of anger, Frederick gave orders that

the mill be torn down. “The king may do this,” the miller quietly

remarked, folding his arms, “but there are laws in Prussia,” and

forthwith he commenced proceedings against the monarch. The court

decided that the king must rebuild the mill, and pay besides a large sum

of money as compensation for the injury which he had done. He was very

mortified on learning this, but instead of disdaining the order, turned

to his courtiers and said, “I am glad to find that just laws and upright

judges exist in my kingdom.” Years after, the proprietor of the mill,

having been reduced in circumstances, wrote to the king, stating if his

majesty now entertained a similar desire to obtain possession of the

property, it would be very agreeable to him in his present embarrassed

circumstances, to sell the mill. The king immediately wrote the

following reply:

“_My dear Neighbor_,—

“_I cannot allow you to sell the mill. It must remain in your

possession as long as one member of your family exists, for it belongs

to the history of Prussia. I lament, however, to hear that you are in

circumstances of embarrassment, and forthwith enclose a check large

enough to arrange your affairs. Consider me always_

“_Your affectionate neighbor_,

“FREDERICK WILLIAM.”

My boy, be just. You can if you will, and there is no reason in all the

varied activities and experiences of life, why you should not.

“_To thine own self be true,

And it must follow as the night the day

Thou canst not then be false to any man._”

Do not be just from a mercenary idea, for that is only another form of

injustice. But be just because it is right, and right makes men, and men

are the great need of the hour.

“_Poise then, the cause in Justice’s equal scales,

Whose beam stands sure, whose rightful cause prevails._”

CHAPTER XIV

Be Kind

INTRODUCTION TO CHAPTER XIV

BY GEORGE T. ANGELL

Whenever a brave, kind word needs to be said, say it; whenever a brave,

kind act needs to be done, do it. Always feed the song birds, but spare

their nests; sprinkle ashes in icy streets, that men and horses may not

fall; put the blankets that have blown off the horses on again, and tuck

them under the harness; protect the useful toad, and avoid treading on

the useful and harmless worm.

“_Be kind to dumb creatures, nor grudge them your care;

God gave them their life, and your love they must share;

And He who the sparrow’s fall tenderly heeds,

Will lovingly look on compassionate deeds._”

In our “Band of Mercy” we have a pledge which every boy should heed,

which will make him not only happier but better and more merciful in all

the relations of life. “I will try to be kind to all harmless, living

creatures, both human and dumb, and will try and protect them from cruel

usage.” Do this, my boy, and you will be happy in the doing.

[Illustration: George T. Angell]

CHAPTER XIV

BE KIND

The story is related of a king who had a boy in whom he took great

delight. He gave him beautiful rooms to live in, with rich pictures and

books, and servants to wait on him wherever he went. He also provided

teachers who were to impart knowledge to him of things which would make

him good and great; but with all this the young prince was unhappy. He

wore a frown wherever he went, and was always wishing for something he

did not have. At length one day a magician came to court. He saw the

scowl on the boy’s face, and said to the king, “I can make your son

happy and turn his frowns into smiles, but you must pay me a large sum

for telling him the secret.” “All right,” said the king, “whatever you

ask I will give.” The price was agreed upon and paid, and the magician

took the boy into a private room. He wrote something with a white

substance on a piece of paper, then gave the boy a candle, and told him

to light it, hold it under the paper, and see what he could read. He

then departed. The boy did as he had been told and the white letters

turned into a beautiful blue. They formed these words, “Do a kindness to

some one every day.” The prince was very much impressed with these words

and undertook to put them into practice, and this resulted in his

becoming very popular and useful in the realm.

KINDNESS AND UNKINDNESS.

Few words are greater in the English language than kindness. It is as

mighty as it is gentle. Few things cost so little, yet benefit so much.

But unkindness always arises from a heart inclined more or less to be

cruel. Because of this the memory of Nero has been treated with contempt

for ages. When a boy, he delighted in torturing flies by pulling off

their legs, and then watching them struggle to get away. When he became

emperor he burnt the Christians in his gardens, and wished that all the

Romans had but one neck that he might cut off their heads at one blow.

Thoreau, on the other hand, is revered for his gentle, loving

disposition. Though an ardent naturalist he seldom if ever inflicted

death for the sake of the furtherance of his scientific observations.

About the year 1845 he took to the woods near Walden Pond,

Massachusetts, and built a house, to the surprise of the raccoons and

squirrels. But the animals soon learned that he meant them no harm. He

would lie down on a fallen tree, or on the edge of a rock, and at his

call they would come to him. Even the snakes would wind around his legs,

and the squirrels would hide their heads in his waistcoat. The fish in

the river knew him, and would allow him to lift them from the water. He

could pull a woodchuck out of his hole by its tail. Rabbits and birds

paid no heed whatever to him while he sat and watched them or plied his

work by chopping trees and raising vegetables, and when he built his

house over the nest of a woodmouse, which at first became alarmed, it

soon became so tame as to pick the crumbs at his feet and nibble the

cheese in his hand.

THE BRAVEST ARE THE TENDEREST.

Some years ago, General David S. Stanley was laying out the route for a

great railroad across the plains. There were two thousand men,

twenty-five hundred horses and mules, and a train of two hundred and

fifty wagons heavily laden. One day the general was riding at the head

of the broad column, when suddenly his voice rang out: “Halt!” A bird’s

nest lay on the ground directly in front of him. In another moment the

horses would have trampled on the nestlings. The mother bird was flying

about and chirping in the greatest anxiety. But the brave general had

not brought out his army to destroy a bird’s nest. He halted a moment,

looked at the little birds and then gave the order: “Left oblique!” Men,

horses, mules and wagons turned aside and spared the home of the

helpless bird. Years after, those who crossed the plains saw a great

bend in the trail, which was the bend made to avoid crushing the bird’s

nest.

George Stephenson, when a boy, would never rob a bird’s nest, because,

as he used to tell his companions: “It grieves the old bird.” One day

when his genius was changing the face of the earth by the railway

engine, he went to an upper room of his house and closed a window. It

had been open a long time because of the intense summer heat, but now

the weather was becoming cooler, and Mr. Stephenson thought it would be

well to shut it. Two or three days later he chanced to observe a bird

flying against it with all its might as if trying to break it. His

curiosity was aroused. He went at once and opened the window and as he

did so the bird flew straight to one particular spot in the room, where

Stephenson saw a nest. The poor bird looked at it and then fluttered to

the floor, broken-hearted and almost dead. The great man drew near.

There sat the mother bird, and under her wings four tiny ones, all dead.

Tenderly he lifted the exhausted bird from the floor and carefully tried

to revive it, but it speedily died. In its beak was a worm it had long

struggled to bring to its home and little ones, and as Mr. Stephenson

looked, he wept.

The brave Colonel John Sobieski thought the unwanton killing of birds

nothing short of murder. Speaking of one of his hunting trips he said,

“Sauntering leisurely along under tall elms, I heard a bird singing, and

looking up, I saw a wee bit of a bird perched upon a lofty limb, singing

very sweetly. Without a moment’s thought, and without the slightest idea

that I could hit so small a mark, I up and banged away. I saw some

feathers fly, and the little songster came dropping down from branch to

branch, and fell at my feet. I stooped down and picked it up. It was a

tiny little thing, not much bigger than my thumb, of a yellowish-green

color, as beautiful as it could be. Then, like a flash, the thought came

to me, ‘What a contemptible deed I have done. Here was one of God’s

beautiful creatures that had just as much right to existence as I, and

its life, doubtless, was as sweet to it as mine was to me, and at that

very moment that it was singing its beautiful songs to make the world

more pleasant and glorious, I had brutally shot it to death.’ I

carefully buried it among the leaves, and then promised myself that I

would never again wantonly destroy life. I regard this the greatest

crime I ever committed.”

DUMB ANIMALS.

Sometimes boys are unkind to dumb animals, teasing them for sport or

imposing on them for gain. Few animals show more fidelity and attachment

to us than the dog and horse. What warnings the former gives! How

faithfully he watches by day and night! With what cheerful alacrity the

“Shepherd” goes for the cattle and the “Mastiff” protects the home! How

many lives have been saved from a watery grave by the “Newfoundland,” or

from a snowy one by the “St. Bernard!”

Walter Scott tells of a dog which saved his master from being burned

alive. The dog of Montargis vainly defended his master against the

enemy, but successfully led to the discovery of the murderer. A pet

spaniel saved the life of William the Silent by scratching his face,

when asleep. A body of Alva’s Spanish troops surprised Dutch William’s

camp, and though his guards perished, he effected his escape by mounting

a horse. In the excavation of the buried city of Herculaneum, the

skeleton of a dog was found stretched over that of a boy twelve years of

age, which he endeavored to save from death by suffocation or fire. All

that remained to tell the story of its fidelity was a collar with an

inscription that told how on three occasions it had saved the life of

its master, once from the sea, once from robbers, and once from wolves.

Of the horse many beautiful and pathetic stories are related. It is said

they never forget a road once traveled, and are very loving in their

attachment. During the Peninsular war a trumpeter of French cavalry was

killed. Many days after the engagement, his body was found, guarded by

his faithful charger, which had stayed by its dead master, protecting

his body. When found, the poor horse was in a sad condition; so great

was its grief, that even after the trumpeter had been buried it required

great persuasion to be prevailed upon to eat.

Some animals can take their part, as many a boy, through lacerated

fingers and severe wounds and bruises, knows. But there are many which

cannot, yet every one is entitled to and appreciates kindness. “There

is,” as Ruskin said, “a flash of strange light through which their life

looks out and up to our great mystery of command over them, and claiming

the fellowship of the creature, if not of the soul.”

“I WAS THAT BOY.”

Boys should be kind to one another. Unkind acts are lasting as indelible

ink; they are like letters written in lemon-juice, which become legible

when brought before the fire; they stir the heart, awaken memory, and

distress the soul. A prominent lawyer who became attorney general of

Missouri relates that while in Governor Steward’s office, a convict was

brought in from the penitentiary to receive a pardon at the Governor’s

hands. The convict was a steamboat man, with the rough manners of his

class. Looking at him the Governor became greatly affected. Then he

signed the document which restored the man’s liberty, but before handing

it over said, “You will commit some crime, I fear, and will soon be back

in prison.” The man protested that such a thing should never again

happen. “You will go back to the river and be a mate again, I suppose?”

asked the Governor. The man said that was his intention. “Well, I want

you to pledge me your word that when you are mate again you will never

take a billet of wood, and drive a poor sick boy out of his bunk to help

load your boat on a stormy night.” The man promised that he never would,

and in surprise asked the Governor why he desired such a pledge.

“Because,” answered he, “some day that boy may become Governor, and you

may want him to pardon you for some crime. One stormy black night, many

years ago you stopped your boat on the Mississippi to take on a load of

wood. There was a boy on board working his passage from New Orleans to

St. Louis, but he became sick and was lying in his bunk. You had enough

men to do the work, but you went to that sick boy, drove him to the deck

with blows and curses, and kept him toiling like a slave till the load

was complete. I was that boy. Here is your pardon. Never again be guilty

of so brutal an act.” The prisoner took the pardon, covered his face and

went out, ashamed of his conduct, and greatly affected by the charity of

one who showed mercy when he could have had revenge.

“YOU CALLED ME BROTHER.”

My boy, be kind. “If a man would have friends, he must show himself

friendly.” “A little thought and a little kindness,” said Ruskin, “are

often worth more than a great deal of money.” Of Cornelius Vanderbilt it

was said, “He was a man of the utmost kindliness, who treated all, of

whatever station, with courtesy, and age with deference.” Julian Ralph

writing of General Wade Hampton said, “He was a gentleman; and the

qualities of mercy, kindliness and protection to the lowly were strong

in his blood.” It is kindness in the heart, on the lips and at the

finger-tips, which wins the affection not only of beasts and birds, but

also of men, women and children.

Be kind in voice. No member has more power of good or evil. A single

word may sting like an adder, or soothe like oil. It can thrill to

action, drive to madness, or lead to despair. It can cut the heart like

sorrow, or cheer like sunshine. Look out for your words. Take care of

the tones. It is not always so much what one says as the manner in which

it is said. Elihu Burritt wisely remarked, “There is no one thing that

love so much needs as a sweet voice, to tell what it means and feels.

One must start in youth, and be on the watch night and day, at work and

play to get and keep a voice that shall speak at all times the thoughts

of a kind heart.”

During the famine in Russia when thousands were reduced to the verge of

starvation, Count Tolstoi passed a beggar on the street corner.

Stretching out his gaunt hands, the miserable creature asked for alms.

Tolstoi felt in all his pockets for a coin to bestow upon him. He turned

his pockets inside out, but to no purpose. His money had already been

spent in charity and he had nothing. Taking the beggar’s hand in both of

his, he said: “Do not be angry with me, brother, I have nothing with

me.” The gaunt face lighted up, the man lifted his bloodshot eyes, his

blue lips parted in a smile. “But you called me brother; that was a

great gift,” he said. Yes, kind words, gentle words, sympathetic words

are cheap. They cost nothing, but profit greatly. They are like oil to

machinery. They disarm anger and are a tonic to the disheartened.

Therefore

“_Keep a watch on your words, my boy,

For words are wonderful things;

They are sweet like the bees’ fresh honey,

Like bees, they have terrible stings;

They can bless like the warm, glad sunshine,

And brighten the lonely life;

They can cut in the strife of anger,

Yes, cut like a two-edged knife._”

ONLY A SHILLING.

Be kind in act. Hands are deaf and dumb, but they should be the

instruments of a tender heart, having a soft touch. Gladstone, with an

empire on his shoulders, found time to leave Parliament and carry

flowers to a little sick crossing-sweeper. A small girl selling

chestnuts arrested the attention of a young man who gave her a shilling.

Years after a poor man called upon a rich bank director to ask for a

position as messenger. The director’s wife recognized him as he passed

out. She learned his business with her husband and said with

earnestness, “Give him the situation.” “Why?” he asked. The wife told

the story how he had given her the shilling. The husband was pleased to

favor his wife and that night the man received a note as he sat by his

sick wife. Opening it, he exclaimed: “Good news, wife! We shall not

starve; here is a promise of a situation.” His wife called his attention

to something that fell upon the floor. It was a fifty pound note folded

in a paper bearing the inscription, “In grateful remembrance of the

shilling which a kind stranger bestowed on a little girl selling

chestnuts twenty years ago.”

Be kind, my boy. There is a magic charm connected with it. So thought

William Cowper, who said he would not trust a man who would with his

foot crush a worm. So thought the private secretary of President

Lincoln, when he found him in the Capitol grounds trying to put a little

bird back to the nest from which it had fallen. So thought George Dana

Boardman, who could not enjoy the so-called sports of hunting and

fishing, because of the suffering they wrought upon the innocent and

helpless. Ah, my lad, just as Androcles extracted the thorn from the

lion’s paw, and was afterwards defended by that lion, kindness seldom

goes unrecompensed. It gives satisfaction to the donor and comfort to

the donee.

“_You never can tell when you do an act

Just what the result will be;

But with every deed you are sowing a seed,

Though its harvest you may not see.

Each kindly act is an acorn dropped

In God’s productive soil;

Which you may not know, yet the tree shall grow

And shelter the brows that toil._”

CHAPTER XV

Be Generous

INTRODUCTION TO CHAPTER XV

BY GEN. THOMAS J. MORGAN

God blesses still the generous thought

And still the fitting word he speeds,

And truth, at His requiring taught,

He quickens into deeds.

—_Whittier._

One of the noblest traits which a boy can cultivate in his relations

with his fellows is that of generosity. He is a mean fellow who is

always thinking and planning for himself only and seeking to get the

advantage of others. A noble-hearted, manly boy thinks of the welfare of

those around him, and is always ready to lend a hand to those that are

in need. Deeds of generosity tend to develop a character which everybody

admires. Generosity pays; it begets self-respect; enlarges a boy’s views

and sympathies, and brings him into delightful relationship with kindred

minds. If you have anything especially good don’t fail to share it with

others who have less, or none. Be generous.

[Illustration: T. J. Morgan]

CHAPTER XV

BE GENEROUS

During one of his wars Napoleon captured two British sailors and

confined them in a prison in central France. The men escaped and made

their way to Boulogne on the sea coast, without being discovered. For a

long time they could get no further. The love of home and liberty at

length grew too strong to be resisted, and they resolved to take chances

on their departure. With no other tools than their knives the Englishmen

made a boat of small pieces of wood. It was a leaky affair when

completed, and in order to make it float they had to cover it with some

old scraps of sail. Sure of being shot if discovered, and with every

chance of being drowned if they reached the open sea, they decided to

attempt to cross the stormy English Channel in their rickety skiff. In

the afternoon before they were to make the effort they saw an English

frigate within sight of the coast, and hastened to launch the crazy

craft and tried to reach the vessel. Some French soldiers discovered

them, and, leaping into a boat, soon brought them back. The captors were

very much astonished at the daring of the sailors, and soon the news of

their adventure spread throughout the camp, and the wonderful courage of

the two men was the subject of general remark. At length the episode

came to the ears of Napoleon. The great soldier was always attracted by

a bold deed, and went to look at the boat in which the sailors had

started. After seeing it he was more impressed than ever, and had the

Englishmen brought before him. “Is it really true,” he said, “that you

thought of crossing the sea in this?” “Sire,” said one of them, “if you

doubt it, give us leave to go and see us depart.” “I will,” exclaimed

the emperor. “You are brave men. I admire courage wherever I meet it.

You are at liberty. But you need not risk your lives. I will put you

aboard an English ship. When you reach London, tell your countrymen how

I admire bravery, even in an enemy.” He gave the sailors money and saw

that they were well treated. The French officers were very much

astonished, for the captives had been condemned to death, but Napoleon’s

generosity granted their freedom, and with it a safe conduct to their

homes.

WHAT IT MEANS.

What Napoleon was in this instance every boy can be. Generosity is a

beautiful characteristic of a noble soul. As the hands of a clock tell

the hour of time, generosity bespeaks heart-felt love and sympathy. And

“_The truly generous is the truly wise;

And he who loves not others lives unblest._”

This word “generous” was once supposed to apply to nobility of descent,

but now it applies to nobility of character. It is used in several ways,

yet all fit and depend on each other as joists fit in mortises. Some one

has defined the word as greatness of mind. Mind, that which Seneca calls

“the proper judge of man,” “that which makes,” as Shakespeare said, “the

body rich.” But _greatness_ of mind is much more significant. It is like

a large number before a cipher. It is, as Johnson said: “Great in great

things and elegant in little things.”

“If there is a boy in school,” says Horace Mann, “who has a club foot,

don’t let him know you ever saw it. If there is a boy with ragged

clothes, don’t talk about rags in his hearing. If there is a lame boy,

assign him to some part of the game that does not require running. If

there is a hungry one, give him part of your dinner. If there is a dull

one, help him to get his lessons. If there is a bright one, be not

envious of him, for, if one boy is proud of his talents and another is

envious of them, there are two great wrongs and no more talent than

before. If a larger or stronger boy has injured you, and is sorry for

it, forgive him. All the school will show by their countenances how much

better it is than to have a great fuss. And remember Him who said: ‘Love

your enemies,’ ‘bless them which curse you.’”

MEANNESS AND INJUSTICE.

As the North Pole is the opposite to the South Pole, so generosity

stands over against selfishness. It glories in the right but scorns the

wrong. “What can I do for you, madam?” asked President Jackson of an

early caller at the White House. “Mr. President,” replied the visitor,

“I am a poor widow and keep a boarding-house on E Street. Mr. H. has

boarded with me for several months, but declines to settle his account.

He receives a good salary as a clerk in the Treasury Department, but I

cannot collect any money of him.” “Why not?” “He won’t pay it, sir.”

“How much does he owe you, madam?” “Nearly $200.” “What is his salary?”

“Almost $2,000 a year.” “That is a fair income,” said the President,

thoughtfully, “he ought to live on that.” “He has paid me nothing for

five months, sir. I need the money and came to ask your advice how to

get it.” “He admits his indebtedness?” “Yes, sir, but he avoids me, on

pay days, and I can get no satisfaction from him, after repeated

solicitations.” “He must pay you, madam.” “I hope he can be made to. I

can ill afford to lose it.” “Go to him,” said Jackson, “and get his note

at thirty days for the full amount and interest.” “His note, sir! It

wouldn’t be worth a penny.” “Get his note,” repeated the President, “and

come to me again. We shall see how much it will be worth.” The widow

withdrew. “I must have some kind of settlement of our account to-day,”

she said to the delinquent boarder at noon, “if you cannot pay me cash

you must give me your note at thirty days for the full amount and

interest.” “Note? Certainly,” replied the clerk, carelessly, “I’ll give

you half a dozen notes if that will do you any good. What are you going

to do with it?” he continued, as he handed her the paper, without the

slightest intention of paying it at maturity. “Collect it,” replied the

landlady, firmly. “Hope you’ll have a good time and be successful at

it,” said H., smiling sarcastically. “I certainly shall,” said the

widow. “This note squares our account in full. You will please find

other accommodations, Mr. H., from to-day.” Mr. H. left as requested,

and next morning the widow called on the President a second time. “Good

morning, madam,” said he, “did you get the note?” “Oh, yes, sir. He was

very ready. But he laughed at me for being so easily satisfied with his

mere promise to pay.” “Well, madam,” said the President, as he took the

note and wrote boldly across the back, “Andrew Jackson,” “put this in

the Washington Bank for collection. You’ve got a good endorser, at all

events. The note will be paid at maturity. Good morning, madam.”

In due time the landlady notified H. that his note for $200 was due at

the bank, on a certain day, but he only smiled. “But that note will

surely be paid,” said the widow, confidently, “for I’ve got a good man’s

name on the back of it.” “Have you, indeed?” asked the clerk, with a

chuckle. “Who was fool enough to endorse my note for $200?” Merely out

of curiosity to see who the fool was, he called at the bank the day the

note was due. But he did not laugh when he read the endorsement. He

could not afford to let that name go to protest, so he paid the note at

once. Three days later he received the following letter:

_Treasury Department.

Washington, D. C._,

....183..

_Mr. L. H._——

_Sir_:

_Your services as clerk in the —th auditor’s office will not be

required after this date. By order of the President._

_Yours, etc._,

...............

_Secretary, etc._

LIBERALITY.

The word generous is now generally used for liberality. Hon. Chester

Kingsley, who has given freely of his means to benevolent objects, tells

how when a boy he used to pray God to give him “a hand to get and a

heart to give.” Such a prayer was far-reaching. It meant co-operation of

hand and heart, a hand to be industrious, a heart to be charitable. Here

is a lesson for every boy. Train the hand to make an honest dollar, the

heart to consecrate it to noble purpose and the mind to learn discretion

in giving.

If there is one thing that creates happiness more than another, it is

making some one else happy.

“_True happiness (if understood)

Consists alone in doing good._”

So wrote the poet Thomson. “It is more blessed to give than to receive,”

said the most liberal Giver of the ages. One needs to give to keep the

heart open, to give without looking for returns, though such giving,

like the dove of Noah’s ark, always comes back in due season with the

olive leaf of reward.

LEGEND AND FACT.

A poor fatherless boy, according to a German legend, had gathered in the

woods a dish of strawberries. Returning home, a venerable old man

startled him by calling out, “My lad, let me have thy full dish and thou

take my empty one.” Pity for the old man’s weakness and helplessness

overcame the boy’s reluctance to part with his berries, and he made the

exchange. Soon he filled the empty dish and returned with it to his

mother, to whom he told the story of his adventure. “Ah, happy are we,

my child,” she exclaimed, “the dish is pure gold.” Though simple the

story, it illustrates this profound truth, that the simplest and freest

gifts return to us in richer and more acceptable favors. Then