COURAGE The philosopher Kant held himself to his habits so precisely that people set their watches by him as he took his daily walk. We may be equally constant amid worldly vicissitudes, but only a man of true courage is. We should respect the good name of other people, and should safeguard our own by a high sense of honor. At the close of the Civil War a representative of an insurance company offered Robert E. Lee the presidency of the firm at a salary of $50,000 a year. Lee replied that while he wished to earn his living, he doubted whether his services would be worth so large a sum. "We don't want your services," the man interrupted; "we want your name." "That," said Lee, quietly, "is not for sale." He accepted, instead, the presidency of a college at $1500 a year. ◄OOD name in man and woman, dear my lord, GOOD name in man Is the immediate jewel of their souls: Who steals my purse steals trash; 'tis something, nothing; 'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands; But he that filches from me my good name Robs me of that which not enriches him, And makes me poor indeed. William Shakespeare. SWELLITIS A certain employer of large numbers of men makes it a principle to praise none of them, not because they are undeserving, and not because he dislikes to commend, but because experience has taught him that usually the praise goes to the head of the recipient, both impairing his work and making it harder for others to associate with him. A good test of a man is his way of taking commendation. He may, even while grateful, be stirred to humility that he has not done better still, and may resolve to accomplish more. Or imitating the frog who wished to look like an ox, he may swell and swell until-figuratively speaking-he bursts. OMEBODY said he'd done it well, And presto! his head began to swell; In size a balloon could scarcely match it; "Good work," somebody chanced to say, HE was the chap who made things hum! This is a fact that is sad to tell: It's the empty head that is bound to swell; It's the light-weight fellow who soars to the skies, A big man is humbled by honest praise, And tries to think of all the ways To improve his work and do it well; But a little man starts of himself to yell! Joseph Morris. CARES To those who are wearied, fretted, and worried there is no physician like nature. When our nerves are frazzled and our sleep is unrefreshing, we can find no better antidote to the clamorous grind and frenzy of the city than the stillness and solitude of hills, streams, and tranquil stars. That man lays up for himself resources of strength who now and then exchanges the ledger for green leaves, the factory for wild flowers, business for brook-croon and bird-song. The foolish fears of what may happen, Among the clover-scented grass, Among the new-mown hay; Among the husking of the corn Where drowsy poppies nod, Where ill thoughts die and good are born, Out in the fields with God. Elizabeth Barrett Browning. FAITH Any one who has ridden across the continent on a train must marvel at the faith and imagination of the engineers who constructed the road-the topographical advantages seized, the grades made easy of ascent, the curves and straight stretches planned, the tunnels so carefully calculated that workmen beginning on opposite sides of a mountain met in the middle-and all this visualized and thought out before the actual work was begun. Faith has such foresight, such courage, whether it toils actively or can merely bide its time. HE tree-top, high above the barren field, THE Rising beyond the night's gray folds of mist, Rests stirless where the upper air is sealed To perfect silence, by the faint moon kissed. But the low branches, drooping to the ground, Sway to and fro, as sways funereal plume, While from their restless depths low whispers sound: "We fear, we fear the darkness and the gloom; Dim forms beneath us pass and reappear, And mournful tongues are menacing us here." Then from the topmost bough falls calm reply: And in her bosom rosy Dawn is borne. So Life stands, with a twilight world around; "Hush, hush! The Dawn breaks o'er the Eastern sea, From "Poems," Houghton Mifflin Co. Edward Rowland Sill. he omilles PLAYING THE GAME We all like the good sport-the man who plays fair and courteously and with every ounce of his energy, even when the game is going against him. LIFE is a game with a glorious prize, If we can only play it right. It is give and take, build and break, Do you wilt and whine, if you fail to win Do you sneer at the man in case that he can Do you take your rebuffs with a knowing grin? Does your faith hold true when the whole world's blue? Get into the thick of it-wade in, boys! As you plunge with a cry, "I shall do or die," Anonymous. |