No matter if he lost sometimes, He's got th' stuff in him that climbs, James W. Foley. From "Tales of the Trail," E. P. Dutton & Co. A HERO If defeat strengthens and sweetens character, it is not defeat at all, but victory. HE sang of joy; whate'er he knew of sadness He kept for his own heart's peculiar share: For dreams were his, and in the dawn's fair shining, Fell when the days grew dark; And though contending long dread Fate to master, He turned with such a smile to face disaster From "Poems," Florence Earle Coates. WILL "I can resist anything but temptation,” says a character in one of Oscar Wilde's plays. Too many of us have exactly this strength of will. We perhaps do not fall into gross crime, but because of our flabby resolution our lives become purposeless, negative, negligible. No one would miss us in particular if we were out of the way. I WELL for him whose will is strong! He suffers, but he will not suffer long; For him nor moves the loud world's random mock, That, compass'd round with turbulent sound, II But ill for him who, bettering not with time, Recurring and suggesting still! He seems as one whose footsteps halt, And o'er a weary sultry land, Far beneath a blazing vault, Sown in a wrinkle of the monstrous hill, The city sparkles like a grain of salt. Alfred Tennyson. FABLE To be impressed by a thing merely because it is big is a human failing. Yet our standard of judgment would be truer if we considered, instead, the success of that thing in performing its own particular task. And quality is better than quantity. The lioness in the old fable was being taunted because she bore only one offspring at a time, not a numerous litter. "It is true," she admitted; "but that one is a lion.” TH HE mountain and the squirrel And the former called the latter "Little Prig"; "You are doubtless very big; But all sorts of things and weather Must be taken in together, To make up a year And I think it no disgrace If I'm not so large as you, I'll not deny you make A very pretty squirrel track; Talents differ; all is well and wisely put; If I cannot carry forests on my back, Neither can you crack a nut." Ralph Waldo Emerson. WHEN DUTY HEN Duty comes a-knocking at your gate, He will depart only to come once more And bring seven other duties to your door. Edwin Markham, From "The Gates of Paradise, and Other Poems," PRAYER FOR PAIN "The thief steals from himself. The swindler swindles himself," says Emerson. Apparent gain may be actual loss; material escape may be spiritual imprisonment. Any one may idle; but the men who are not content unless they climb the unscalable mountains or cross the uncharted seas or bear the burdens that others shrink from, are the ones who keep the heritage of the spirit undiminished. I Do not pray for peace nor ease, Nor sorrow: No suppliant on servile knees Lean flame against lean flame we flash, O, Fates that meet me fair; Blue steel against blue steel we clash— But Thou of deeps the awful Deep, Thou Breather in the clay, Grant this my only prayer- Oh keep My soul from turning gray! For until now, whatever wrought Against my sweet desires, My days were smitten harps strung taut, My nights were slumbrous lyres. And howsoe'er the hard blow rang Upon my battered shield, Some lark-like, soaring spirit sang And through my soul of stormy night I asked no odds-I fought my fight- |