{"1": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3545", "width": "2524", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0001.jp2"}, "2": {"fulltext": "Class J:\\nBook-\\nGoByriglitF_", "height": "3451", "width": "2456", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0002.jp2"}, "3": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3443", "width": "2209", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0003.jp2"}, "4": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3425", "width": "2534", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0004.jp2"}, "5": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0005.jp2"}, "6": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3449", "width": "2526", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0006.jp2"}, "7": {"fulltext": "THE BEGINNING OF HOME INPLUENOB", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0007.jp2"}, "8": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3455", "width": "2528", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0008.jp2"}, "9": {"fulltext": "HARACTER SKETCHES\\nFOR\\nBOYS AND GIRLS\\nOR\\nSUCCESS AND HOW TO WIN IT\\nBEING A\\nVAST TREASURY OF THE NOBLEST TRUTHS AND WISEST MAXIMS\\nFOR THE INSTRUCTION AND SELF-IMPROVEMENT OF\\nTHE YOUNG; SHOWII^G THE TRUE AIMS\\nAND OBJECTS OF LIFE\\nTOGETHER WITH A\\nGALLERY OF PORTRAITS AND BIOGRAPHIES OF SUCCESSFUL\\nMEN AND WOMEN\\nA PRACTICAL TREATISE ON HOW TO BUILD CHARACTER\\nAND WHOM TO EMULATE\\nBY Henry Davenport Northrop\\nAuthor of Charming Bible Stories, Beautiful Gems of Thought aud Sentiment, etc.\\nProfusely Embellished with Superb Engravings\\nNATIONAL PUBLISHING CO.\\n_. 239, 241 AND 243 AMERICAN STREET\\nrHILADELreiA, PA.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0009.jp2"}, "10": {"fulltext": "TWO COPIES RKCEIVED,\\nLibrary of Conere8%\\nOffice of tho\\nJAN 6- 1900\\nRegister of Copyright*\\n5106r\\nEntered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1899, by\\nJ. R. JONES\\nIn the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C.\\nA) Rights Reserved\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0CCONDCOPIC", "height": "3465", "width": "2537", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0010.jp2"}, "11": {"fulltext": "3\\nPREFACE.\\nHOW to live thf: best, the noblest, and the happiest hfe, is the all-important\\nquestion fully answered in this most comprehensive volume. The choicest\\nstores of v/isdom, the brightest thoughts of master minds, and the most\\nshining examples of the highest type of success, are gathered here for the\\ninstruction, the entertainment and practical benefit of both old and young.\\nBOOK I. Starting Right; or, the Influence of Home. A well-known\\nauthor says: It is the Home that makes the Nation. With equal truth we may\\nsay, it is the Home that makes the grandest men and women. Here is where ideal\\ncharacter is fashioned. And no work can possess greater value than the one that\\nfaithfully describes the true Home and pictures it as the sweetest type of heaven.\\nThe reader finds in these glowing pages a beautiful tribute to Parental Influence.\\nTike an angel of light appears the devoted mother, that uncrowned queen, of whom it\\nhas been truly said: The hand that rocks the cradle is the hand that rules the world.\\nThe Force of Example is vividly portrayed. Says quaint Ben Franklin None\\npreaches better than the ant, and she says nothing. The reader learns how true it is\\nthat noble examples stir us up to noble actions. This, and all the other subjects treated\\nin this volume, are so forcibly presented and so strikingly illustrated that the work\\nhas an irresistible charm to every reader.\\nIt is a book that wakes up slumbering thoughts. Its sound is that of a trumpet\\nand its watchword is Onward. It inspires in the reader a noble ambition to make the\\nmost of himself and gain a high position in the world. By striking examples from real\\nlife, the force of the great truth is illustrated, that, Just as the twig is bent, the tree s\\nincUned. The all-important lessons that should be taught in the Home, the noble\\naims that should be presented, and the masterly elements that form a model character\\nare stated in a manner that deeply interests the reader. The greatest names in history,\\nthe men and women who have achieved the most brilliant success, are here photographed\\nand held up for imitation.\\nBOOK II. The Cardinal Virtues. This part of the work describes and teaches\\nthose Great Virtues which alone can render life happy and successful. Here is an\\neloquent tribute to Charity, the praises of which are spoken in Holy Writ and sung\\nin sweetest song. Here is shown the bright side and. how essential it is to always\\nlook upon .it and make the best of our lot. Here Industry is preised and its\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0superb achievements portrayed. Here Honesty is shown to be the touchstone of\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0success.\\nEvery young person in the land should read about Truthfulness, Perseverance and\\nEconomy. These are virtues that no one can afford to ignore, and no one would wish\\ntr do so after reading what is here said concerning them.\\niii", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0011.jp2"}, "12": {"fulltext": "PREFACE.\\nHere are brilliant illustrations of Courage including that grand moral Courage^\\nwhich is the noblest type. Here the reader is taught the value of Patience, which\\nwaits and wins by waiting. Here Hope rises on the vision as the morning star heralds\\nthe coming sun. Here is an inspiring call to Self-Control. This cluster of Great Virtues\\nincludes Contentment, of which Robby Burns wrote so finely in the Cotter s Saturday\\nNight.\\nHere young men learn what can be accomphshed by Endurance. The Christian\\nvirtue of Forgiveness is pictured in the most attractive colors, and in company with it is\\nthe sister virtue of Gratitude, The brightest examples of Self-Sacrifice are gathered\\nfrom the most glowing pages of history. Heroism in Well-Doing begets a desire in\\nevery breast to perform noble deeds. Temperance and Good Health are set forth\\naccording to their merits.\\nSpecial attention is called to the very practical Rules for Bodily Exercise and the\\npreservation of Health. These are fully illustrated, and this part of the volume is a.\\ncomplete handbook of athletic exercises for both sexes.", "height": "3458", "width": "2492", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0012.jp2"}, "13": {"fulltext": "CONTENTS.\\nBOOK I.\\nSTARTING RIGHT; OR, THE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\nCHAPTER I.\\nPAGI\\nJust as the Twig is Bent the Tree s Inclined I t\\nCHAPTER II.\\nThe Force of Example 3S\\nCHAPTER III.\\nThe Best Capital is Character\\nCHAPTER IV.\\nMake the Best of Yourself\\nCHAPTER V.\\nThe Royal Road to Success\\nCHAPTER VI.\\nThe School of Everyday Life 109\\nCHAPTER VII.\\nThe Path of Duty 127\\nCHAPTER VIII.\\nBe Ri/ht, then Go Ahead 143\\nBOOK 11.\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nCHAPTER IX.\\nPAGE\\nTheGreatestof These is Charity 157\\nCHAPTER X.\\nLooking on the Bright Side 179\\nCHAPTER XL\\nIndustry\\nHonesty\\nCHAPTER XIL\\nCHAPTER XIIL\\nPAGE\\nTruthfulness 225\\nCHAPTER XIV.\\nPerseverance 243\\nCHAPTER XV.\\nEconomy 25?\\nCHAPTKR XVI.\\nCourage 271\\nV", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0013.jp2"}, "14": {"fulltext": "CHAPTER XVII.\\nCHAPTER XVril.\\nHope\\nCHAPTER XIX.\\nSympathy\\nCHAPTER XX.\\nCHAPTER XXL\\nContentment\\nCHAPTER XXII.\\nCHAPTER XXIII.\\nForgiveness\\nCONTENTS.\\nPAGE\\n285\\nCHAPTER XXIV.\\nGratitude 379\\nCHAPTER XXV.\\nSelf-Sacrifice 391\\nCHAPTER XXVI.\\nDecision 403\\nCHAPTER XXVII.\\nHeroism in Well-Doing 413\\nCHAPTER XXVIII.\\nTemperance\\nCHAPTER XXIX.\\nGood Health 449", "height": "3469", "width": "2494", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0014.jp2"}, "15": {"fulltext": "LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.\\nJust as the Twig is Bent the Tree s Inclined 16\\nThe Cheerful Home Presents its Smiling Face 19\\nGrafting the Young Tree 23\\nHome is a Shelter from the Wintry Blast .29\\nThe Mother is the Child s Playmate 35\\nThe Force of Example 40\\nTo the Dear Ones at Home 44\\nMilton Dictating Paradise Lost 48\\nThe Harvest Sheaf 62\\nJohn Pounds in his Workshop 56\\nThe Best Capital is Character 61\\nWork Morn and Eve and Through the Sultry\\nNoon,\\nAnd Songs of Joy will Hail the Harvest Moon 65\\nMake the Best of Yourself 76\\nMake Haste 78\\nThe Beauties of Autumn 85\\nRoyal Road to Success 88\\nThe Sower 91\\nFootprints in the Sand 97\\nThe Soldier s Dream 101\\nThe Royal Road 105\\nManual Training School 108\\nGrandmother s Thoughts 115\\nNo Night so Dark, no Day so Drear,\\nBut we may Sing our Song of Cheer .121\\nThe Path of Duty 126\\nBe a Hero 132\\nThe Blind Man s Dutiful Child 138\\nBe Sure You are Right, then Go Ahead .142\\nCatharine of Aragon Facing Her Accusers 149\\nCharity 156\\nPeace on Earth, Good-will to Men .160\\nWaiting for Mother 166\\nGod is Dove 272\\nThe Welcome Return 378\\nA Recipe for Summer 181\\nA Song to Cheer 185\\nMerry Christmas 191\\nIndustry and Idleness 196\\nHonesty 212\\nThe First Wrong Act 218\\nKing Canute Trying to Sweep Back the Ocean 224\\nNo Virtue of More Noble Worth,\\nThan Truth, from Heaven Brought to Earth 227\\nvii\\nPAGB\\nThe Authorities of Salem Making a Charge of\\nWitchcraft 235\\nPerseverance 242\\nTeaching the Young Economy 256\\nThe Fruit Seller Counting her Money .261\\nCourage 272\\nDruids Inciting the Britons to Resist the Romans 276\\nPatience 284\\nTrue Patience 287\\nThe Last Hope 296\\nKing Richard Landing at Jaffa to Recover the\\nHoly Land 30C\\nThe Sure and Steadfast Anchor 304\\nA Visit of Sympathy 303\\nFlowers for the Sick 313\\nSelf-Control 322\\nOliver Cromwell 326\\nThe Duke of Wellington 32-!\\nContentment 335\\nTwo Homes 343\\nHeroic Endurance 348\\nThe Hardy Sailor on the Lookout 351\\nJoan of Arc Before King Charles VII 357\\nI Regret that I cannot Tell him I have Forgot-\\nten Everything 364\\nThe Reconciliation 371\\nBase Ingratitude 378\\nHymn of Thanksgiving 383\\nSelf-Sacrifice 390\\nIs Life Worth Living? 395\\nA Case of Indecision 402\\nThe Decisive Answer 407\\nHeroism in Weil-Doing 412\\nPeace and the Sword 415\\nThe Bivouac of the Dead 426\\nNature s Btverage 422\\nThanksgiving 437\\nThe Man that Blows his Own Trumpet 443\\nHealthful Exercise 448\\nHealth and Beauty 451\\nHealth-Giving Recreation 457\\nThe Slaves of Fashion 461\\nThirty-three Practical Illustrations of Athletic\\nExercises 467-477\\nOvercoming Difficulties 478", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0015.jp2"}, "16": {"fulltext": "LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS\\nFull Page Phototype Engravings\\nThe Beginning of Home Influence\\nA Mother is a Mother Still\\nH. W. Longfellow\\nEdward Everett\\nJ. G. Holland\\nBret Harte\\nR. H. Stoddard\\nGeorge Washington\\nWilliam McKinley\\nAdmiral George Dewey-\\nThomas A. Edison\\nPrince Von Bismarck\\nNapoleon Bonaparte\\nWilliam E. Gladstone\\nHenry Clay\\nDaniel Webster\\nHenry Ward Beecher\\nFrances E. Willard\\nAdelina Patti\\nJames Whitcomb Riley\\nEugene Field\\nAdmiral W. S. Schley\\nHarriet Beecher Stowe\\nAlice Cary\\nElizabeth Phelps Ward\\nS^.s .rr ^P^ kKf^.^^", "height": "3472", "width": "2513", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0016.jp2"}, "17": {"fulltext": "i ^h J\\noodard", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0017.jp2"}, "18": {"fulltext": "Georo^e Washino^ton.\\nGEORGE WASHINGTON, the first President of the United States,\\nwas born in Westmoreland Connty, Va., Febrnary 22d, 1732. His\\nancestors were of the landed gentry of Northamptonshire, Eng-\\nland. He received a careful home training and attended two local\\nschools, but was never a classical scholar.\\nWhen Washington was nineteen years of age the colony was\\ndivided into military districts, and he was given, by Governor Robert\\nDinwiddle, the position of Adjutant-General with the rank of Major,\\nbeing the youngest officer of that rank in the colonies. He soon made\\nhimself conversant with military affairs. October 30th, 1753, he was\\nsent by Governor Dinwiddle as commissioner to the French commander\\non the fork of the Ohio River. He performed his mission loyally,\\nthough it entailed great suffering and danger from both French and\\nIndians. April 2d, 1754, he was made Lieutenant-Colonel, and took\\npart in the disastrous campaign against the French and their Indian\\nallies, which ended in the surrender of Fort Necessit}/.\\nThe next year we find him on General Braddock s staff, and, had\\nhis advice been followed, that General would probably have been spared\\nthe disastrous defeat which cost him his life. Washington really saved\\nthe remainder of the army from annihilation. In 1759 he married Mrs.\\nMartha Custis, a lady of rare personal charm and solid mental endow-\\nments. He was for some time a member of the Virginia Assembly, and\\ntook part in the first Colonial Congress, winning golden opinions by his\\nsteadiness and loyal faith.\\nWhile still a member of the Continental Congress, the battle of\\nLexington took place, April 19th, 1775, and Washington was chosen as\\nthe Commander-in-Chief of the forces engaged against Great Britain.\\nHe hurried to Boston, forced the British to evacuate that city, and from\\nthat time until the close of the war at Yorktown, he presented the spec-\\ntacle of a commander unwearied by defeat, not elated by victory, unmoved\\nby calumny, unspoiled by flattery at once a gentleman, a hero, a patriot,\\na Christian, and a modest man. It was only natural that Washington\\n.should be called to govern the nation he had so nobly aided to create,\\nand on the 30th of April, 1789, he was inaugurated as the first President\\nof the United States. Washington was again chosen President and\\ninaugurated Alarch 4th, 1793. He died December 14th, 1799, at\\nMt. Vernon, Virginia.\\nWashington was six feet two inches high, of stately carriage and\\naddress. He well deserved the honors thrust upon him, and was, indeed,\\nfirst in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his countrymen.", "height": "3481", "width": "2566", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0018.jp2"}, "19": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0019.jp2"}, "20": {"fulltext": "Hon. William McKinley.\\nNEARLY all of the Presidents of the United States have come from\\nhumble life. Their fortune was in themselves, and by force of\\nintellect, by industry, integrity and perseverence, they rose to the\\nhighest position in the gift of the nation. Perhaps there is no higher\\nhonor that can be conferred on any man than the Presidency of the\\nUnited States. Whoever gains this commanding position must be\\npossessed of sterling qualities. Our country has been fortunate from\\nthe very beginning in the men who have occupied the White House.\\nAmong these is William McKinley, who deserves to rank among\\nthe most illustrious of our statesmen who have filled the chair of the\\nChief Executive. He was born at Niles, Ohio, February 26th, 1844.\\nHe enlisted in the United States Army in May, 1861, as a private\\nsoldier in the Twenty-third Ohio Volunteer Infantry, and was mustered\\nout as captain of the same regiment and brevet-major in September,\\n1865. His career in the army was highly creditable to him, for\\nalthough he did not rise to a high rank, he was considered an excellent\\nsoldier, faithful to duty and brave in danger. Yet, doubtless, no one pre-\\ndicted that he would become the foremost citizen of his country.\\nHe was prosecuting attorney of Stark County, Ohio, 1869-71,\\ndisplaying conspicuous ability in his chosen profession which was that\\nof the law. He was elected to Congress in 1877, and in 1884 lost his\\nseat by vote of the House, his seat having been contested by his oppo-\\nnent. He was re-elected and sat continuously as a member of Congress\\nfrom 1885 to March 4th, 1891. During this period he distinguished\\nhimself in Congress as the author of a protective tariff bill which was\\npassed by Congress in 1890. All through his career in Congress he\\nshowed himself to be a man of marked ability, remarkably well informed,\\nstrong in debate, and at times surpassingly eloquent.\\nHe was elected Governor of his native State in 1891 and was made\\nthe candidate of the Republican Party for the Presidency in 1896. The\\ncampaign of this year was very exciting and a large vote was polled.\\nMr. McKinley was elected by a very large majority and entered upon\\nhis duties as President on the 4th of March, 1897. He at once showed\\nthat he had a masterly grasp of the political situation, was disposed to\\nkeep every promise made by his party, and very soon business, which\\nhad been in a depressed condition, began to revive.\\nIn 1898, war broke out between our country and Spain and the vast\\nresponsibilities growing out of it were borne by Mr. McKinley in a\\nmanner which commanded the admiration of his fellow countrymen.", "height": "3501", "width": "2506", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0020.jp2"}, "21": {"fulltext": "WILLIAM Mckinley\\nPresident of the United States", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0021.jp2"}, "22": {"fulltext": "Rear-Admiral George Dewey\\nTHE brilliant victory of Admiral Dewey over the Spanish fleet at\\nManila made him the most famous naval commander of modern\\ntimes. He was commander of our Asiatic squadron and on Mon-\\nday, April 25th, 1898, received news of the declaration of war between\\nour countr} and Spain. The neutrality laws would not allow him to\\nremain at Hong Kong, and leaving this port on Wednesday he sailed\\nfor Manila, the capital of the Philippine Islands.\\nHaving passed the batteries and harbor defenses under cover of\\ndarkness, on Sunday morning. May ist, lie annihilated the Spanish\\nsquadron, numbering eleven vessels, and silenced and destroyed three\\nbatteries. On Monday he occupied the navy yard, blew up six batteries,\\ncut the cable, established a blockade, and drove the Spanish forces out\\nof Cavite. The next day he swept the lower bay for torpedoes. All\\nthis was accomplished with little damage to his fleet, and just eight\\nmen wounded, while immense damage was inflicted on the enemj^ both\\nin the destruction of men and ships.\\nDewey showed that he possesses the rare capacity of combining\\nprudence with daring. His dominant qualities are courage, manliness,\\nfrankness, shrewdness, and a keen sense of honor. As a naval ofiBcer\\nhe has allways manifested the utmost confidence in himself and this has\\ninspired confidence pri the part of others. Of Green Mountain stock,\\nhe started in life with a good heritage, and from the time he graduated\\nfrom the Naval Academy in 1854 he had an honorable career.\\nDuring the Civil War he distinguished himself for bravery on many\\noccasions. He figured in the capture of New Orleans, April, 1862 did\\ngallant service at Port Hudson, March, 1863 running the batteries and\\ncapturing Fort Fisher.\\nThe frigate Mississippi was destroyed in the Mississippi river after\\na stubborn fight. Dewey was the last man to leave the sinking frigate\\nand Admiral Porter, in commenting on this incident, said It is in such\\ntrying moments that men show of what mettle they are made, and in\\nthis instance the mettle was the best.\\nDewey was promoted commodore February 20th, 1896, and on\\nJanuary 3d, 1898, assigned to the command of the Asiatic squadron.\\nMay 7th, he was promoted Acting Rear-Admiral of the United States\\nNavy by President McKinley as a reward for highlj^ distinguished\\nconduct, and Congress tendered a vote of thanks to him and his men\\nby request of the President.", "height": "3481", "width": "2455", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0022.jp2"}, "23": {"fulltext": "^;m\\nREAR ADMIRAL GEORGE DEWEY\\nThe Hero cf Manila", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0023.jp2"}, "24": {"fulltext": "Thomas A. Edison.\\nNO inventor has ever achieved greater distinction than Thomas A.\\nEdison. He is nothing less than a phenomenon in the realm of\\nscience, more especially in that part of it vi^hich relates to elec-\\ntricity. His discoveries have been the wonder of the age, and have\\nmade him famous throughout the world.\\nWe find him at the age often reading the histories of Gibbon and\\nHume, yet his biographers assert that he went to school only two\\nmonths in his boyhood. Like the vast majority of those men who have\\nleft a deep impression upon their time, he was born in poverty and\\nobscurity, being conspicuously a self-made man. His education was\\nunder the direction of his mother, yet at best was but superficial.\\nMr. Edison was born at Alva, Ohio, February nth, 1847. As\\nsoon as he was old enough to become interested in any study, he showed\\ngreat fondness for chemistry. This indicated the bent of his mind, and\\nwas a prophecy that the natural sciences would be his favorite pursuit.\\nWhile he was employed as a newsboy on a railway train, he determined\\nto learn telegraphy. Here was the beginning of that remarkable career,\\nand of those discoveries which, if they have not revolutionized the tele-\\ngraph system, have certainly promoted its efiiciency and perfected its\\ninstruments. While residing at Adrian, Mich., he opened a shop for\\nrepairing telegraph instruments and making new machinery. Subse-\\nquently, at Indianapolis, he invented his automatic repeater, which was\\ngreatly in advance of any telegraph instrument then in existence,\\nexcept the original one invented by Professor Morse.\\nIt is not too much to say that Mr. Edison s ideas have entered\\nlargely into all the electrical discoveries of recent time. He, or his\\nassistants, prompted by his original conceptions, have contributed\\nlargely to all the scientific journals of the country. His inventions\\nconsist of improvements in the electric light and the telephone. He is\\nalso the inventor of the phonograph, the quadruplex and sextuplex\\ntransmitter, the microphone, the megaphone, the kinetoscope, the\\nmimeograph, the electric pen, etc.\\nIn person Mr. Edison is rather tall, somewhat stocky, with smooth\\nface and a youthful expression. He is capable of a great amount of\\nwork and has been known to spend sixty hours consecutively in his\\nlaboratory without sleep. He bears the title of Count, which was\\nconferred upon him in Italy, in honor of his brilliant discoveries.", "height": "3481", "width": "2501", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0024.jp2"}, "25": {"fulltext": "THOMAS A. EDISON", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0025.jp2"}, "26": {"fulltext": "Prince Von Bismarck.\\nTHE dramatic career of the unique Iron Chancellor came to an\\nend Saturday, July 30th, 1898, but he will not pass out of history\\nany more than Alexander, Caesar, Peter the Great, Napoleon,\\nWashington, Lincoln or Gladstone. He was born of an old noble\\nfamily at Schonhausen, April ist, 1815, created count September i6th,\\n1865, and prince, March, 187 1. He was educated at the Universities at\\nGottingen and Griefswald, spent some time in the army and subsequently\\nsettled down as a country gentleman. In 1845 became a member of\\nthe Provincial Diet of Saxony, and of the Prussian Diet, in which his\\nfiery eloquence in defence of the old monarchical party distinguished\\nliim.\\nThough practically a Secretary of State, Bismarck always accom-\\npanied his royal master to the field of battle wearing his military uni-\\nform. Historians may question whether the Iron -Chancellor or his\\nillustrious master was the real author of German unity, but Kaiser\\nWilliam I. knew that Bismarck, and not he, remodelled the map of\\nEurope. He was a dauntless man. After the emperor s death and\\ndifferences grew up between him and the boy-emperor, William II., and\\nthe chancellor mingled freely with the Reichstag, a messenger told him\\none day that the emperor had ordered that he should not admit to his\\nhome any members of that body without the emperor s consent. Bis-\\nmarck sent back this reply Tell the emperor that I allow no one to\\ncontrol my threshold. This brought a call from the emperor himself,\\nwho asked Not when I command you as your sovereign The\\nsturdy German then declared My master s authority ends at my\\nwife s drawing-room.\\nThere is another side to this strong man s character. His love of\\nhome, wife, and children was a marked characteristic. Always did he\\nregard himself as a providential character. Before God he was humble.\\nWriting to a friend he once said In honest penitence I perform my\\ndaily task. I, the minister of this state, am a Christian, and am resolved\\nso to act as to be able to justify myself before God.\\nBismarck was one of the most distinguished men of the century.\\nPossessed of a towering intellect, an unbending will, a masterly grasp\\nof political situations, it may with truth be said that during a large part\\nof his long and brilliant career events on the Continent of Europe\\nhappened only by his consent. At his death Emperor William paid a\\nfeeling tribute to his memory and he M^as buried with imposing cere-\\nmonies.", "height": "3481", "width": "2450", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0026.jp2"}, "27": {"fulltext": "PRINCE VON BISMARCK", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0027.jp2"}, "28": {"fulltext": "Napoleon Bonaparte.\\nTHE great French Emperor whose military genius is the most\\ndazzling of any in modern times, and whose remarkable victories\\nchanged the map of Europe, was born on the 15th of August,\\n1769, in Corsica, a French island in the Mediterranean. He was sent\\nto the military school of Brienne, 1777; became lieutenant of artillery,\\n1785 and for his services at the siege of Toulon was appointed briga-\\ndier-general of artillery, 1793.\\nAt this time war was breaking out on all sides. Austria, Prussia,\\nEngland, Holland, Spain, and Russia sent armies against France. The\\nFrench raised a million of men and bade defiance to all Europe. In\\nthe French army was this young lieutenant of artillery. When the\\nwar began he was an unknown and friendless youth, but he distin-\\nguished himself in every battle and every siege, till, in a few years, the\\nwhole world had heard of Napoleon Bonaparte. When he was twenty-\\nsix years old he conquered Italy. The next year he compelled the\\nEmperor of Austria to make peace.\\nIn 1803 Bonaparte was elected Consul of the French Republic for\\nlife. Two years afterward he was proclaimed Emperor by the name of\\nNapoleon. He had now more power than any of the ancient kings.\\nWherever he marched his conquering armies, monarchs humbled them-\\nselves before liira. He drove them from their thrones and placed his\\nown brothers and chief officers there instead.\\nBut in 1812 the spell of his success began to be broken. He\\ninvaded Russia with a vast arni}^ and penetrated to the city of Moscow.\\nThe Russians set the city on fire. Winter was coming on and the\\nFrench soldiers had nowhere to shelter themselves. They retreated\\ntoward Poland, but before they reached the frontier three-fourths of the\\narmy were destroyed. The Emperor fled homeward in a sledge and\\nreturned to Paris. He soon raised new armies and was ready to take\\nthe field again. But all the nations of Europe were now against him\\nand he suffered disastrous defeats. Having been banished to the Island\\nof Elba he remained there almost a year, but in March, 1815, he sud-\\ndenly landed again on the French coast and a new army sprang to their\\nfeet to carry his banner to victory. The nations of Europe now mus-\\ntered their armies once more and Napoleon s last battle was fought at\\nWaterloo on the i8th of June, 1815. There he was utterly overthrown\\nand France was overthrown with him. He was banished to the Island\\nof St. Helena and there died. In 1840 his remains were brought back\\nto France and deposited in a splendid mausoleum erected for them.", "height": "3481", "width": "2496", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0028.jp2"}, "29": {"fulltext": "NAPOLEON BONAPARTE.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0029.jp2"}, "30": {"fulltext": "Hon. William E. Gladstone.\\nT TILLIAM E. GLADSTONE, who Mr. Balfour, the leader of the\\nWL House of Commons at the time, said was the greatest member\\nof the greatest deliberative assembly in the world, was born\\nDecember 29th, 1809. He was of Scottish blood and English birth.\\nHis father lived to be eighty-seven years old, and when twenty years\\nold was sent by his father to Liverpool to sell a cargo of wheat. This\\nresulted in his settlement in that city, where he became a great mer-\\nchant, a member of Parliament and a baronet.\\nWilliam E. Gladstone had both a distaste and seeming incapacity\\nfor arithmetic. When fifteen he entered Eton College and stayed six\\nyears, devoting his main attention to Latin and Greek. In 1827\\nentered Oxford, where he distinguished himself in oratory. On leaving\\nOxford he thought of entering the ministry, but his father dissuaded\\nhim. He went abroad, and on his return, in 1832, was elected to Par-\\nliament as a Tory. His first speech was in favor of slavery, and con-\\ntained sentiments which he soon afterward retracted. When twenty-five\\nyears of age he was appointed Junior Lord of the Treasury, and six\\nmonths later promoted to the ofG.ce of Under Secretary for the Colonies.\\nFollowing this his party went out of power, and he devoted himself\\nmore closely to study, writing his first book, The State in its Rela-\\ntions with the Church. His eyesight being unfavorably affected by\\nthis work he went to Rome, where met and afterward married Catherine\\nGlynne, of Hawarden Castle, a woman of means and rare gifts.\\nGladstone s most wonderful triumphs in debate were in dealing\\nwith financial questions. In the discussions of the Home Rule bill his\\nremarkable versatility dazzled the eyes of the world. His broad views\\nand enthusiasm for radical progress enabled him to accomplish more\\nfor the oppressed of other lands than any other British statesman. As\\nan orator he excelled every parliamentary leader of the Victorian age\\nexcept John Bright, and in readiness and abundance of resources he\\nwas vastly his superior. Had he not been a great statesman and famous\\norator he would have been a great author. Altogether he produced\\nmore than sixty publications. Had he not been either of these he would\\nhave been a great and good man. He always found time for the exacting\\nduties of religion, and was a representative of the highest type of\\nChristian character. No taint nor stain ever tarnished his public or\\nprivate life. The nation which possesses one such man cannot perish\\nwhile he lives. Mr. Gladstone died on May i8th, 1898.", "height": "3481", "width": "2448", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0030.jp2"}, "31": {"fulltext": "HON. WILLIAM E. GLADSTONE.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0031.jp2"}, "32": {"fulltext": "Henry Clay.\\nTHIS eminent American orator and statesman was born in Hanover\\nCounty, Va., April 12th, 1777. After preparatory study of the\\nlaw he was admitted to the bar in 1797, and speedily established\\na brilliant practice in Lexington, Ky. Commencing his political career\\nin 1799, as a Democrat of the Jefferson school, Clay was elected to the\\nState Legislature in 1804, and in 1806 and 1809 sat as a Senator in\\nCongress, having been sent for short terms.\\nIn 181 1 he became a member of the House of Representatives, and\\ntowards the close of the year was elected its Speaker. Re-elected to the\\nsame position in 18 13, he resigned it in January, 1814, to proceed to\\nEurope as one of the Peace Commissioners to treat with Great Britain.\\nAfter participating in the signing of the Treaty of Ghent in December\\nof that year. Clay returned home to again assume the Speakership. In\\n1816 he supported the United States Bank charter; in 1821 he earn-\\nestly advocated the Missouri Compromise, and in 1824 was an unsuc-\\ncessful candidate for the Presidency of the Union.\\nIn 1825 Clay became Secretary of State; was elected United States\\nSenator 1831-1837, and in 1832 accepted the Presidential candidature\\nof the anti-Jackson party, only to be again defeated. In 1832-1833 he\\ncaused the passing of the Compromise Tariff supported General Har-\\nrison for the Presidency in 1840 advocated a national banking system,\\nand the distribution of the public domains among the respective States.\\nIn 1844 the National Whig Convention nominated him the third\\ntime for the Presidency, with as little success as before. He strenuously\\nopposed the acquisition of Texas, and in 1848, having been again elected\\nto the Senate, he there took a prominent part in effecting the Compro-\\nmise of 1850, which deferred for ten years the impending struggle\\nbetween the North and South on the question of slavery. He died at\\nWashington in 1852, leaving behind him a name and fame foremost in\\nthe annals of American eloquence and statesmanship.\\nHenry Clay was a poor boy, but he had what is better than riches\\na thirst for knowledge, great industry and perseverance, a character\\nthat was incorruptible and a remarkable gift of eloquence. He was a\\nself-made man and was well made, as such men are almost sure to be.\\nIn his brilliant career we see illustrated the high position with which\\nour country rewards young men of ability, who, although poor and\\nwithout personal influence in their favor, make the most of their oppor-\\ntunities, pursue their object with enthusiasm and are resolved to conquer\\nall difficulties.", "height": "3503", "width": "2467", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0032.jp2"}, "33": {"fulltext": "vir\\no^", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0033.jp2"}, "34": {"fulltext": "Daniel Webster.\\nTHIS illustrious American statesmau, jurist, and orator, was born at\\nSalisbury, N. H., in 1872, of respectable but comparatively humble\\nparentage. After receiving his rudimentary education at Exeter\\nand Boscawen academies, he entered Dartmouth College in 1797, as a\\nfreshman, and after graduating in 1801, entered upon the study of the\\nlaw at Salisbury and Boston, in which latter city he was called to the\\nbar in 1S05.\\nIn 1807 he went into practice at Portsmouth, and, after earning a\\nhigh legal reputation, was elected by the Federal party to the lower\\nhouse of Congress in 1813, where he opposed the war with England,\\nand at once rose into prominence as an able debater. Re-elected in\\n1815, he shared in the discussion of the United States Bank Charter\\nand specie payment questions. Meanwhile he had risen to the highest\\nrank in his profession as a constitutional lawyer, and also as a consum-\\nmate leader in criminal causes. In 1820 he served as a member of the\\nConvention met to revise the Constitution of Massachusetts, and in\\n1822 was re-elected to Congress, where, as chairman of the Judiciary\\nCommittee, he rendered eminent assistance in the entire revision of the\\nUnited States criminal code.\\nIn 1828, he became Senator, and in 1830, in opposing the Nullifi-\\ncation doctrine advanced by South Carolina statesmen, delivered perhaps\\nthe most splendid outburst of patriotic oratory ever heard within the\\nCongress of the American Union. In 1834 Mr. Webster became a\\nprominent leader of the Whig party, and in 1841 was appointed Secre-\\ntary of State under President Harrison, retaining the office during Mr.\\nTyler s chief magistracy.\\nThe most remarkable event of his official term was the so-called\\nAshburton Treaty with England, in settlement of the Northeast Boun-\\ndary question. Re-elected to the Senate in 1844, opposed alike the\\nadmission of Texas into the Union and the prosecution of the war with\\nMexico, and supported Henry Clay s Compromise Measures of 1850\\nin relation to the extension of slavery to new territories. In 1850 he\\nagain became Secretary of State, this time under Mr. Fillmore, and was\\nunsuccessfully nominated for the Presidency in the National Whig\\nConvention of 1852. He died October 24th, in the latter year.\\nWebster went by the name of the Godlike Daniel, a name given\\nhim on account of his commanding presence, his wonderful powers of\\nmind and his marvellous eloquence, which has probabl}^ never been\\nsurpassed in the annals of statesmanship.", "height": "3507", "width": "2470", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0034.jp2"}, "35": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0035.jp2"}, "36": {"fulltext": "Rev. Henry Ward Beecher.\\nTHIS distinguished American minister and writer, a son of Dr. Lyman\\nBeecher, was born in Litchfield, Conn., on the 24th of June, 1813.\\nHe appears to have given in childhood but little promise of dis-\\ntinction. But even while a boy he proved that, if he did not inherit\\nthe eloquence, he inherited at least something of the controversial\\nability of his father. A forward schoolboy among the elder scholars\\nhad got hold of Paine s Age of Reason, and was flourishing largely\\namong the boys with objections to the Bible. Henry privately looked\\nup Watson s Apolog3% studied up the subject, and challenged a debate\\nwith the big boy, in which he came off victorious by the acclamation of\\nbis schoolfellows. This occurred when he was about eleven years old.\\nHe manifested at this period little inclination for severe study, but\\nbad conceived a passionate desire to go to sea. His father adroitly used\\nthis desire to induce him to commence a course of mathematics with a\\nview to qualify himself to become a naval officer. He applied himself\\nenergetically to his new studies, with his face to the navy, and Nelson\\nas his beau ideal. But not long afterwards there occurred in that\\nsection of the country a religious revival, and young Beecher, with\\nmany others, was powerfully impressed. The result was that the naval\\nscheme was abandoned, and his thoughts were directed to the pulpit as\\nhis natural and proper sphere.\\nAfter going through the preparatory studies, he entered Amherst\\nCollege, where he graduated in 1834 and soon after he commenced the\\nstudy of theology at Lane Seminary, under the direction of his father.\\nHe began his ministerial course at Lawrenceburg, Indiana, but removed\\nsoon after to Indianapolis. In 1847 became pastor of Plymouth\\nChurch (Congregational) in Brooklyn, where he gathered around him\\nan immense congregation. He was also one of the most popular writers\\nand most successful lecturers in America. His success as a public\\nspeaker was due not so much to what is popularly termed eloquence as\\nto a flow of racy and original thought, which, though often enlivened\\nwith flashes of quaint humor, was not without an undercurrent of deep\\nmoral and spiritual earnestness.\\nIn 1850 Mr. Beecher published a volume of Lectures to Young\\nMen. He was one of the originators of The Independent (to which\\nhe was for nearly twenty years a prominent contributor), favored the\\nFree-Soil movement in 1852, and actively supported the Republican\\nparty in 1856 and i860. In the Civil War he was among the most\\nzealous and efiicient champions of the government. Died March 8, 1887.", "height": "3513", "width": "2486", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0036.jp2"}, "37": {"fulltext": "J^\u00c2\u00a3...^y?yrs^ YUOeju^i^^", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0037.jp2"}, "38": {"fulltext": "Frances E. Willard.\\nIN every walk of life where it is possible for woman to display her\\ntalents, her success has been conspicuous. Our country has ever}^\\nreason to be proud of those members of the gentler sex who have\\ncommanded attention in authorship, sometimes in business, especially\\nin works of reform, and whose influence has always been upon the side\\nof good morals, higher education, and the development of the noblest\\nwomanhood.\\nWhile our progress as a nation has been rapid and such as to draw\\nthe wondering attention of the world, it is not all due to soldiers or\\nstatesmen. Our history could not be correctl}^ written without mention\\nof those women who, in the walks of private life, and frequently in\\nmore public spheres, have made their influence felt and have been\\nleaders of thought and public opinion.\\nOne of our most distinguished American women is the subject of\\nthis sketch. No one was more widely known or universally respected.\\nShe possessed talents of an unusual order, a warm and earnest spirit,\\nuntiring energy, the ability to influence others, and seemed to be lacking\\nin none of those qualities essential to successful achievement.\\nMiss Willard was known throughout the country for her devotion\\nto the cause of reform, especially that branch of it embraced in temper-\\nance work. She attended meetings and conventions, and lectured in\\nevery part of the land, and was always received with the attention due\\nto her position and character and the worthy objects she sought to pro-\\nmote. She was eloquent in the best sense of the term, very fluent in\\nspeech, possessed of unusual tact, and was heard by multitudes who\\nwere in the habit of affirming that they did not care to hear a woman\\nspeak in public.\\nIt may be truthfully said that her career exhibits all those elements\\nwhich go to make one independent, aggressive, and progressive likewise.\\nThroughout her life she never thrust herself into notice, but simply\\nembraced the opportunities open to her, and entered the field of useful-\\nness when she heard the call for service. She was born in Churchville^\\nN. Y., September 28th, 1839, was educated at Milwaukee and the\\nNorthwestern Female College at Bvanston, 111., from which she gradu-\\nated in 1859. She became Professor of Natural Science there in 1862,.\\nand was principal of Genesee Wesleyan Seminary in 1866-67. Miss\\nWillard died in the early part of 1898, greatly lamented by a host of\\nadmirers and friends throughout the country.", "height": "3514", "width": "2470", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0038.jp2"}, "39": {"fulltext": "^fRANCES E. WILLARD.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0039.jp2"}, "40": {"fulltext": "Adelina Patti.\\nAdelina Patti was born at Madrid, April 9, 1843, In early youtb\\nshe came to America with her parents and studied music with, her\\nbrother-in-law, Maurice Strakosch. She first appeared in New York,\\nNov. 24, 1859, and her voice at once attracted attention. In 1861 she\\nappeared in London in La Somnambula. She took the town by\\nstorm and became the prime favorite of the day. Since then she has\\nmaintained her rank and is to-day the most popular operatic star living.\\nNot only is she an unexampled vocalist, but her acting is such as would\\nplace her in the first rank, were she not gifted with song.\\nThe parts which she sings are numerous, and her Lucia in the\\nBride of Lammermoor, Violetta and Zerlina are equally famed.\\nIt was, however, as Rosina in II Barbiere de Seviglia that she\\nshowed her comic powers. In 1863 she attempted the part of Ninetta\\nin La Gaza Ladra and gained a signal triumph. In 1864 she sang\\nMargherita in Gounod s Faust and in 1867 Juliet in Romeo\\nand Juliet. In May, 1868, she was married at the Roman Catholic\\nChurch, Chapham, to the Marquis de Caux, but the marriage proved\\nso stormy that a divorce was obtained. In the early part of 1870 Patti\\nvisited Russia, where she met with an enthusiastic reception, receiving\\nfrom Alexander II. the Order of Merit, and the appointment as First\\nSinger of the Imperial Court.\\nUpon her return to America a few years ago she was received with\\ngreat eclat, and sang to overflowing houses, over the whole country.\\nThe extortionate prices demanded for seats seemed to increase rather\\nthan diminish the desire to hear her, and during the few years she\\nstarred here she accumulated a fortune. Patti is the Queen of Song,\\nand no other cantatrice, with the single exception of Jenny Lind., has\\never gained a fame so world-wide and a popularity so universal.", "height": "3510", "width": "2470", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0040.jp2"}, "41": {"fulltext": "ADELINA PATTJ.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0041.jp2"}, "42": {"fulltext": "James Whitcomb Riley.\\nANEW generation of writers has come forward, with characteristics\\nwidely different from those of their predecessors in the field of\\nliterature. Their writings are more distinctively American\\nperhaps it would be more appropriate to say West-American. There\\nis a breeziness about them an off-hand dash a disregard of conven-\\ntionalities which we do not discover among such men as Irving, Bryant,\\nLongfellow and others, who may be said to have created our literature\\nand stamped it with their genius. Both fiction and poetry have taken\\non what may be called a new style. The aim to entertain, to present\\nthe humorous side of things, to make a quick, even though superficial\\nimpression, is very apparent.\\nIt would be unjust, however, to deny unusual merit to the new\\nclass of authors. They are splendidly endowed. To brilliant native\\ntalent many of them add great industry, a profound knowledge of\\nhuman nature, and of what is demanded by the popular taste.\\nJames Whitcomb Riley has been given the title of the Hoosier\\nPoet of America. This is partly owing to the State in which he was\\nborn and lives. He has been a contributor for some years to current\\nliterature, showing in his writings so much of pith and pungency,\\ntogether with a healthful moral tone, that his productions have been\\nwidely read and enjoyed.\\nHe was born in Greenfield, Indiana, in 1852. In his boyhood he\\noften accompanied his father, who was an attorney, as he went from\\nplace to place transacting his business, and thus early came into con-\\ntact with the world, which has so much to do with the education and\\ndevelopment of the young mind.\\nFor a time he was connected with a theatrical troupe, and showed\\nsome aptitude for revising and adapting plays. He also began to show\\na talent for song-writing and improvising lines on the spur of the\\nmoment, thus indicating that he had a ready wit, and not merely the\\nkind which is studied up and manufactured for the occasion.\\nOver the name of Benjamin F. Johnson, of Boone, he began,\\nabout the year 1875, to contribute verses in the Hoosier dialect to the\\nIndianapolis papers. These attracted considerable attention, suggesting\\nan interesting field of literature, which he resolved, sooner or later, to\\noccupy. It was evident that dialect poems were relished by the public,\\nand as these were written upon subjects near at hand, and such as\\nappealed to the popular heart, Mr. Riley found himself growing in\\nfavor, and from that day has continued in active literary work.", "height": "3497", "width": "2470", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0042.jp2"}, "43": {"fulltext": "JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0043.jp2"}, "44": {"fulltext": "Eucrene Field.\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a055\\nON the fourth day of November, 1895, there was many a sad home in\\nthe city of Chicago and throughout America. It was on that day\\nthat Eugene Field, the most congenial friend young children ever\\nhad among the literary men of America, died at the early age of forty-\\nfive. The expressions of regard and regret called out on all sides by\\nthis untimely death, made it clear that the character in which the public\\nat large knew and loved Mr. Field best was that of the Poet of Child\\nLife. What gives his poems their unequaled hold on the popular\\nheart is their simplicity, warmth and genuineness. This quality they\\nowe to the fact that Mr. Field almost lived in the closest and fondest\\nintimacy with children. He had troops of them for his friends and it\\nis said he wrote his child-poems directly under their suggestions and\\ninspiration.\\nHis association with his fellow-workers was equally congenial. No\\nman who had ever known him felt the slightest hesitancy in approaching\\nhim. He had the happy faculty of making them always feel welcome.\\nIt was a common happening in the Chicago newspaper office for some\\ntramp of a fellow, who had known him in the days gone by, to walk\\nboldly in and blurt out, as if confident in the power of the name he\\nspoke Is Gene Field here I knew Gene Field in Denver, or I\\nworked with Gene Field on the Kansas City Times. These were\\nsufficient passwords and never failed to call forth the cheery voice from\\nField s room That s all right, show him in here, he s a friend of mine.\\nEugene Field was born in St, Louis, Missouri, September 2d, 1850.\\nPart of his early life was passed in Vermont and Massachusetts. He\\nwas educated in a university in Missouri. From 1873 to 1883 he was\\nconnected with various newspapers in Missouri and Colorado. He joined\\nthe staff of the Chicago Daily News in 1883 and removed to Chicago,\\nwhere he continued to reside until his death, twelve years later. Of Mr.\\nField s books, The Denver Tribune Primer was issued in 1882;\\nCulture Garden (1887) Little Book of Western Friends (1889)\\nand Little Book of Profitable Tales (1889).\\nMr. Field was not only a writer of child verses, but wrote some\\nfirst-class Western dialectic verse, did some translating, was an excellent\\nnewspaper correspondent, and a critic of no mean ability but he was\\ntoo kind-hearted and liberal to chastise a brother severely who did not\\ncome up to the highest literary standard. He was a hard worker, con-\\ntributing daily, during his later years, from one to three columns to the\\nChicago News, besides writing more or less for the Syndicate Press\\nand various periodicals.", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0044.jp2"}, "45": {"fulltext": "EUGENE FIEED.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0045.jp2"}, "46": {"fulltext": "Rear-Acimiral VV. S. Schley.\\nW INFIELD SCOTT SCHLEY, whose name will be identified witli\\nthe great naval victory of Santiago, is the lineal descendant of\\na sturdy German schoolmaster who emigrated to Maryland in\\nthe year 1735. The Rev. Edward Huber says\\nPerhaps few members of the Schley family even know that the\\ndestroyer of Cervera s fleet at Santiago is the direct descendant of a\\nhumble but vigorous German schoolmaster. His name was Thomas\\nSchley, and he arrived in the spring of the year 1735 at Annapolis,\\nMaryland, in charge of a party of emigrants from the Palatinate and\\nSwitzerland. Altogether, there were about one hundred families. They\\nsettled on both banks of Carroll creek, three miles from Monocacy river,\\non an extensive piece of land owned by Daniel Dulaney, of Annapolis.\\nThe emigrants could boast of but little wealth, but plenty of muscle,\\nthrift and Teutonic energy.\\nAdmiral Schley rose step by step to the high position of Admiral\\nin our navy. He acted on the principle that merit wins. In response\\nto a telegram congratulating him on the destruction of Cervera s fleet\\nhe wrote Victory belongs to every officer and man of the fleet. When\\nthe Spanish Admiral was taken on board the Iowa and was conversing\\nwith Captain Evans and Schley in the cabin, with tears in his eyes he\\nsaid My career is ended. I shall go back to Spain and be killed or die\\nin disgrace. Admiral Schley put out his hand and rested it on Cervera s\\nshoulder, and in perfect Spanish said Admiral you are a brave man,\\nand coming out as you did in the face of a superior force is but an\\nexemplification of that bravery. Your countrj^ can but do you honor.\\nAdmiral Cervera threw his arms around the Admiral and said Ah,\\nsailors are always gentlemen.\\nAdmiral Schley was born in a little place called Richfield, near\\nFrederick, Maryland. In 1863 he married Miss Rebecca Franklin,\\nbeing then twenty-three years old. He graduated from the Naval\\nAcademy at Annapolis in i860.\\nProbably no naval officer in the world has had such varied experi-\\nence of so many kinds, in war and peace, as Admiral Schley. Briefly,\\nit is this In 1861-65, active service in the Civil War 1865, suppressed\\na riot of 400 Chinamen on one of the Chincha Islands, also landed in\\nLa Union, San Salvador, because of an insurrection, and took possession\\nof the Custom-House to protect American interests 18S4, rescued\\nGreely, the Artie explorer; 1890, took Ericsson s body to Sweden;\\nJuly 3d, 1898, destroyed Cervera s fleet near Santiago.", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0046.jp2"}, "47": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0047.jp2"}, "48": {"fulltext": "PHUPsm/fg", "height": "3514", "width": "2566", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0048.jp2"}, "49": {"fulltext": "STARTING RIGHT\\nOR\\nTHE INFLUENCE OF HOME\\nCHAPTER I.\\nJUST AS THE TWIG IS BENT THE TREE S INCLINED.\\nf NLY the right kind of a home\\ncan furnish the right start in\\nthe world. From a good seed\\nand good soil grows a good\\ntree, and even good seed\\ncannot thrive well in a poor\\nsoil. Says the well-known\\nauthor, J. G. Holland, Any feeling that\\ntakes a man away from his home is a traitor\\nto the household. Home is the first and\\nmost important school of character. It is\\nthere that every human being receives his\\nbest moral training, or his worst for it is\\nthere that he imbibes those principles of\\nconduct which endure through manhood,\\nand cease only with life.\\nIt is a common saying that Manners\\nmake the man and there is a second, that\\nMind makes the man but truer than\\neither is a third, that Home makes the\\nman. For the home-training includes not\\nonly manners and mind, but character. It is\\nmainly in the home that the heart is opened,\\nthe habits are formed, the intellect is awakened,\\nand character moulded for good or for evil.\\nFrom that source, be it pure or impure,\\nissue the principles and maxims that govern\\nsociety. The tiniest bits of opinion sown in\\nthe minds of children in private life afterwards\\nissue forth to the world, and become its pub-\\nlic opinion for Nations are gathered out oi\\nnurseries, and they who hold the leading-\\nstrings of children are rulers.\\nThe Star of Home.\\nI remember the days when my spirit would turn\\nFrom the fairest of scenes and the sweetest of song.\\nWhen the hearth of the stranger seemed coldly to\\nburn,\\nAnd the moments of pleasure for me were too long\\nFor one name and oneforni shone in glory and light.\\nAnd lured back from all that might tempt me to\\nroam,\\nThe festal was joyous, but was not so bright\\nAs the smile of a mother, the star of my home.\\nThe sharpest of pain, and the saddest of woes,\\nThe darkest, the deepest of shadows might come\\nYet each wound had its balm, while my soul could\\nrepose\\nOn the heart of a mother, the star of my home,\\nEliza Cook,\\nIt is in the order of nature that domestic\\nlife should be preparatory to social, and that\\nthe mind and character should first be formed\\nin the home. There the individuals who\\nafterwards form society are dealt with in\\ndetail, and fashioned one by one. From the\\nfamily they enter life, and advance from boy-\\nhood to citizenship. Thus the home maybe\\nregarded as the most influential school of\\ncivilization. For, after all, civilization mainly\\n17", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0049.jp2"}, "50": {"fulltext": "IS\\nTHE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\nresolves itself into a question of individual\\ntraining; and according as the respective\\nmembers of society are well or ill trained in\\nyouth, so will the community which they\\nconstitute be more or less benefited and\\nelevated.\\nThe training of any man, even the wisest,\\ncannot fail to be powerfully influenced by the\\nmoral surroundings of his early years. He\\ncomes into the world helpless, and absolutely\\ndependent upon those about him for nurture\\nand culture. From the very first breath that\\nhe draws, his education begins. When a\\nmother once asked a clergyman when she\\nshould begin the education of her child, then\\nfour years old, he replied Madam, if you\\nhave not begun already, you have lost those\\nfour years. From the first smile that gleams\\nupon an infant s cheek, your opportunity\\nbegins.\\nAn Arabian Proverb.\\nBut even in this case the education had\\nalready begun for the child learns by simple\\nimitation, without effort, almost through the\\npores of the skin. A fig-tree looking on a\\nfig-tree becometh fruitful, says the Arabian\\nproverb. And so it is with the children\\ntheir first great instructor is example.\\nHowever apparently trivial the influences\\nwhich contribute to form the character of the\\nchild, they endure through life. The child s\\ncharacter is the nucleus of the man s all\\nafter-education is merely what is added the\\nform of the crystal remains the same. Thus\\nthe saying of the poet holds true in a large\\ndegree, The child is father of the man\\nor, as Milton puts it, The childhood shows\\nthe man, as morning shows the day.\\nThose impulses to conduct which last the\\nlongest and are rooted the deepest, always\\nI lve their origin near our birth. It is then\\ni....t the germs of virtues or vices, of feelings\\nor sentiments, are first implanted which deter-\\nmine the character for life.\\nThe child is, as it were, laid at the gate of\\na new world, and opens his eyes upon things\\nall of which are full of novelty and wonder-\\nment. At first it is enough for him to gaze\\nbut by-and-by he begins to think, to observe,\\nto compare, to learn, to store up impressions\\nand ideas and under wise guidance the\\nprogress which he makes is really wonderful.\\nLord Brougham has observed that between\\nthe ages of eighteen and thirty months,\\na child learns more of the material world, of\\nhis own powers, of the nature of other bodies^\\nand even of his own mind and other minds,\\nthan he acquires in all the rest of his life.\\nThe Mother s Influence.\\nIt is in childhood that the mind is most\\nopen to impressions, and ready to be kindled\\nby the first spark that falls into it. Ideas are\\nthen caught quickly and live lastingly. Thus\\nScott is said to have received his first bent\\ntowards ballad literature from his mother\\nand grandmother s recitations in his hearing\\nlong before he himself had learned to read.\\nChildhood is like a mirror, which reflects in\\nafter-life the images first presented to it. The\\nfirst thing continues forever with the child.\\nThe first joy, the first sorrow, the first success,\\nthe first failure, the first achievement, the\\nfirst misadventure, paint the foreground of\\nhis life.\\nAll this while, too, the training of the\\ncharacter is in progress of the temper, the\\nwill, and the habits on which so much\\nof the happiness of human beings in after-life\\ndepends. Although man is endowed with a\\ncertain self-acting, self-helping power of con-\\ntributing to his own development, independent\\nof surrounding circumstances, and of reacting\\nupon the life around him, the bias given to\\nhis moral character in early life is of immense", "height": "3478", "width": "2519", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0050.jp2"}, "51": {"fulltext": "THE CHEERFUL HOME PRESENTS ITS SMILING FACE.\\nThomas Campbell.\\n19", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0051.jp2"}, "52": {"fulltext": "20\\nTHE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\nimp rtance, and goes far toward shaping his\\nwhole future course.\\nPlace even the highest-minded philosopher\\nin the midst of daily discomfort, immorality\\nand vileness, and he will insensibly gravitate\\ntowards brutality. How much more sus-\\nceptible is the impressionable and helpless\\nchild amidst such surroundings It is not\\npossible to rear a kindly nature, sensitive to\\nevil, pure in mind and heart, amidst coarse-\\nness, discomfort and impurity.\\nHow true it is that home is the one place\\nwe never forget the memory of it lives as\\nlong as we do.\\nMid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,\\nBe it ever so humble, there s no place like home.\\nA charm from the skies seems to hallow it there,\\nWhich, go through the world, you ll not meet with\\nelsewhere.\\nHome, home, sweet home\\nThere s no place like home.\\nAn exile from home, pleasure dazzles in vain\\nAh give me my lowly thatched cottage again,\\nThe birds singing sweetly that come to my call\\nOh, give me sweet peace of mind, dearer than all\\nHome, sweet, sweet home\\nThere s no place like home.\\nJohn Howard Payne.\\nThere is music in the word home. To the\\nold it brings a bewitching strain from the\\nharp of memory to the young it is a\\nreminder of all that is near and dear to them.\\nAmong the many songs we are wont to\\nlisten to, there is not one more cherished\\nthan this touching melody of Home, Sweet\\nHome.\\nWhat a Song of Home Did.\\nPassing through the splendid thorough-\\nfares of Paris one night was an Englishman,\\nwho had left his home and native land to\\nview the splendors and enjoy the pleasures\\nof a foreign country. He had beheld with\\ndelight its paintings, its sculpture, and the\\ngrand yet graceful proportions of its build-\\nings, and had yielded to the spell of the\\nsweetest muse. Yet, in the midst of its\\nkeenest happiness, when he was rejoicing\\nmost over the privileges he possessed, tempta-\\ntions assailed him. Sin was presented to him\\nin one of its most bewitching garbs. He\\ndrank wildly and deeply of the intoxicating\\ncup, and his draught brought madness.\\nReason was overwhelmed, and he rushed\\nout, all his scruples overcome, careless of\\nwhat he did or how deeply he became\\nimmersed in the hitherto unknown sea of\\nguilt.\\nHe Listened Intently.\\nThe cool night air lifted the damp locks\\nfrom his heated brow, and swept with sooth-\\ning touch over his flushed cheeks. Walking\\non, calmer, but no less determined, strainsof\\nmusic from a distance met his ear. Follow-\\ning in the direction the sound indicated, he\\nat length distinguished the words and air.\\nThe song was well remembered. It was\\nHome, Sweet Home. Clear and sweet\\nthe voice of some English singer rose and\\nfell on the air, in the soft cadences of that\\nbeloved melody.\\nMotionless, the wanderer listened till the\\nlast note floated away and he could hear\\nnothing but the ceaseless murmur of a great\\ncity. Then he turned slowly, with no feeling\\nthat his manhood was shamed by the tear\\nwhich fell as a bright evidence of the power\\nof song.\\nThe demon that dwells in the wine had\\nfled and reason once more asserted her\\nright to control. As the soft strains of\\nSweet Home had floated to his ear, mem-\\nory brought up before him his own sweet\\nhome. He saw his gentle mother, and\\nheard her speak, while honest pride beamed\\nfrom her eye, of her son, in whose nobleness", "height": "3478", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0052.jp2"}, "53": {"fulltext": "JUST AS THE TWIG IS BENT THE TREE S INCLINED.\\n21\\nand honor she could always trust and his\\nheart smote him as he thought how little he\\nde erved such confidence. He remembered\\nher last words of love and counsel, and the\\ntearful farewell of all those dear ones who\\ngladdened that far-away home with their\\npresence. Well he knew their pride in his\\nintegrity, and the tide of remorse swept over\\nhis spirit as he felt what their sorrow would\\nbe could they have seen him an hour before.\\nSubdued and repentant, he retraced his steps,\\nand with this vow never to taste of the ter-\\nrible draught that could so excite him to\\nmadness was mingled a deep sense of thank-\\nfulness for his escape from further degradation.\\nThe influence of home had protected him,\\nthough the sea rolled between.\\nA Cheerful Home.\\nNone can tell how often the commission\\nof crime is prevented by such memories.\\nIf, then, the spell of home is so powerful,\\nhow important it is to make it pleasant and\\nlovable i Many a time a cheerful home and\\nsmiling face do more to make good men and\\nwomen, than all the learning and eloquence\\nthat can be used.\\nIt has been said that the sweetest words\\nin our language are Mother, Home and\\nHeaven; and one might almost say the\\nword home included them all for who can\\nthink of home without remembering the\\ngentle mother who sanctified it by her pres-\\nence And is not home the dearest name\\nfor heaven We think of that better land\\nas a home where brightness will never end\\nin night. Oh, then, may our homes on\\nearth be the centers of all our joys may\\nthey be as green spots in the desert, to which\\nwe can retire when weary of the cares and\\nperplexities of life, and drink the clear waters\\nof a love which we know to be sincere and\\nalways unfailing.\\nSweet is the smile of home the mutual look\\nWhere hearts are of each other sure\\nSweet all the joys that crowd the household nook,\\nThe haunt of all affections pure.\\nJohn Keble.\\nThus homes, which are the nurseries of\\nchildren who grow up into men and women,\\nwill be good or bad according to the power\\nthat governs them. Where the spirit of love\\nand duty pervades the home where head\\nand heart bear rule wisely there where the\\ndaily life is honest and virtuous where the\\ngovernment is sensible, kind, and loving,\\nthen may we expect from such a home an\\nissue of healthy, useful, and happy beings,\\ncapable, as they gain the requisite strength,\\nof following the footsteps of their parents, of\\nwalking uprightly, governing themselves\\nwisely, and contributing to the welfare of\\nthose about them.\\nChildren are Imitators.\\nOn the other hand, surrounded by igno-\\nrance, coarseness, and selfishness, they\\nwill unconsciously assume the same char-\\nacter, and grow up to adult years rude,\\nuncultivated, and all the more dangerous to\\nsociety if placed amidst the manifold temp-\\ntations of what is called civilized life. Give\\nyour child to be educated by a slave, said\\nan ancient Greek, and, instead of one slave,\\nyou will then have tv/o.\\nThe child cannot help imitating what he\\nsees. Every thing is to him a model of\\nmanner, of gesture, of speech, of habit, of\\ncharacter. For the child, says Richter,\\nthe most important era of life is that of\\nchildhood, when he begins to color and\\nmould himself by companionship with others.\\nEvery new educator effects less than his pre-\\ndecessor until at last, if we regard all life\\nas an educational institution, a circumnaviga-\\ntor of the world is less influenced by all the", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0053.jp2"}, "54": {"fulltext": "22\\nTHE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\nnations he has seen than by his nurse.\\nModels are, therefore, of great importance\\nin moulding the nature of the child and if\\nwe would have fine characters, we must\\nnecessarily present before them fine models.\\nNow, the model most constantly before every\\nchild s eye is the mother.\\nThieves Cannot Teach Honesty.\\nOne good mother, said George Herbert, is\\nworth a hundred school-masters. In the\\nhome she is loadstone to all hearts, and\\nloadstar to all eyes. Imitation of her is\\nconstant, and example is far more than pre-\\ncept. It is instruction in action. It is teach-\\ning without words, often exemplifying more\\nthan tongue can teach. In the face of bad\\nexample, the best of precepts are of but\\nlittle avail. The example is followed, not the\\nprecepts. Indeed, precept at variance with\\npractice is worse than useless, inasmuch as it\\nonly serves to teach the most cowardly of\\nvices hypocrisy. Even children are judges\\nof consistency, and the lessons of the parent\\nwho says one thing and does the opposite,\\nare quickly seen through. The teaching of\\nthe friar was not worth much who preached\\nthe virtue of honesty with a stolen goose in\\nhis sleeve.\\nBy imitation of acts, the character be-\\ncomes slowly and imperceptibly, but at\\nlength decidedly formed. The several acts\\nmay seem in themselves trivial but so are\\nthe continuous acts of daily life. Like snow-\\nflakes, they fall unperceived each flake\\nadded to the pile produces no sensible\\nchange, and yet the accumulation of snow-\\nflakes makes the avalanche. So do repeated\\nacts, one following another, at length become\\nconsolidated in habit, determine the action of\\nthe human being for good or for evil, and, in\\na word, form the character.\\nIt is becau. -^e the mother, far more than\\nthe father, influences the action and conduct\\nof the child, that her good example is of so\\nmuch greater importance in the home. It\\nis easy to understand how this should be so.\\nThe home is the woman s domain her\\nkingdom, where she exercises entire control.\\nHer power over the little subjects she rules,\\nthere is absolute. They look up to her for\\neverything. She is the example and model\\nconstantly before their eyes, whom they\\nunconsciously observe and imitate.\\nLetters Cut in the Bark.\\nCowley, speaking of the influence of early\\nexample, and ideas early implanted in the\\nmind, compares them to letters cut in the\\nbark of a young tree, which grow and widert\\nwith age. The impressions then made, how-\\nsoever slight they may seem, are never\\neffaced. The ideas then implanted in the\\nmind are like seeds dropped into the ground,\\nwhich lie there and germinate for a time,\\nafterwards springing up in acts and thoughts\\nand habits. Thus the mother lives again i;i\\nher children. They unconsciously mouIJ!\\nthemselves after her manner, her speech, her.\\nconduct, and her method of life. Her habi:s:\\nbecome theirs and her character is \\\\isibly\\nrepeated in them.\\nThis maternal love is the visible provi-\\ndence of our race. Its influence is constLint\\nand universal. It begins with the educitioa\\nof the human being at the outstart of hfc,,\\nand is prolonged by \\\\irtue of the powerful\\ninfluence which every good mother exercise-\\nover her children through life. Whcit\\nlaunched into the world, each to take p ut in.\\nits labors, anxieties and trials, they sir,! tu n\\nto their mother for consolation, if not f j;\\ncounsel, in their time of trouble and diffi\\nculty. The pure and good thoughts she has\\nimplanted in their minds when children con-\\ntinue to grow up into good act. long after", "height": "3478", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0054.jp2"}, "55": {"fulltext": "GRAFTING THg YOUNG TRBE.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0055.jp2"}, "56": {"fulltext": "24\\nTHE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\nslhe is dead and when there is nothing but\\na memory of her left, her children rise up\\nand call her blessed;\\nIt is not saying too much to aver that the\\nhappiness or misery, the enlightenment or\\nignorance, the civilization or barbarism of\\nthe world, depends in a very high degree\\nupon the exercise of woman s power within\\nher special kingdom of home. Indeed,\\nEmerson says, broadly and truly, that a\\nsufficient measure of civilization is the influ-\\nence of good women. Posterity may be\\nsaid to lie before us in the person of the\\nchild in the mother s lap. What that child\\nwill eventually become, mainly depends\\nupon the training and example which he has\\nreceived from his first and most influential\\neducator.\\nWoman, above all other educators, edu-\\ncates through the affections. Man is the\\nbrain, but woman is the heart of humanity\\nhe its judgment, she its feeling; he its\\nstrength, she its grace, ornament and solace.\\nEven the understanding of the best woman\\nseems to work mainly through her affections.\\nAnd thus, though man may direct the intel-\\nlect, woman cultivates the feelings, which\\nmainly determine the character. While he\\nfills the memory, she occupies the heart.\\nShe makes us love what he can only make\\nus believe, and it is chiefly through her that\\nwe are enabled to arrive at virtue.\\nBoyhood of Augustine.\\nThe respective influences of the father\\nand the mother on the training and develop-\\nment of character are remarkably illustrated\\nin the life of St. Augustine. While Augus-\\ntine s father, a poor freeman of Thagaste,\\nproud of his son s abilities, endeavored to\\nfurnish his mind with the highest learning of\\nthe schools, and was extolled by his neigh-\\nbors for the sacrifices he made for that\\nobject, beyond the ability of his means\\nhis mother, Monica, on the other hand,\\nsought to lead her son s mind in the direc-\\ntion of the highest good, and with pious care\\ncounselled him, entreated him, advised him\\nto chastity, and, amidst much anguish and\\ntribulation, because of his wicked life, never\\nceased to pray for him until her prayers\\nwere heard and answered.\\nThus her love at last triumphed, and the\\npatience and goodness of the mother were\\nrewarded, not only by the conversion of her\\ngifted son, but also of her husband. Later\\nin hfe, and after her husband s death, Monica,\\ndrawn by her affection, followed her son to\\nMilan, to watch over him and there she\\ndied, when he Avas in his thirty-third year.\\nBut it was in the earlier period of his Hfe that\\nher example and instruction made the deepest\\nimpression upon his mind, and determined\\nhis future character.\\nFirst Impressions the Most Lasting.\\nThere are many similar instances of early\\nimpressions made upon a child s mind,\\nspringing up into good acts late in life, after\\nan intervening period of selfishness and vice.\\nParents may do all that they can to develop\\nan upright and virtuou.s character in their\\nchildren, and apparently in vain. It seems\\nlike bread cast upon the waters and lost.\\nAnd yet sometimes it happens that long\\nafter the parents have gone to their rest it\\nmay be twenty years or more the good\\nprecept, the good example set before their\\nsons and daughters in childhood, at length\\nsprings up and bears fruit.\\nOne of the most remarkable of such in-\\nstances was that of the Rev. John Newton,\\nof Olney, the friend of Cowper, the poet.\\nIt was long subsequent to the death of both\\nhis parents, and after leading a vicious life\\nas a youth and as a seaman, that he became", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0056.jp2"}, "57": {"fulltext": "JUST AS THE TWIG IS BENT THE TREE S INCLINED.\\n25\\nsuddenly awakened to a sense of his de-\\npravity; and then it was that the lessons\\n-which his mother had given him when a\\nchild sprang up vividly in his memory. Her\\nvoice came to him as it were from the dead,\\nand led him gently back to virtue and good-\\nness.\\nJohn Randolph s Mother.\\nAnother instance is that of John Randolph^\\nour American statesman, who once said I\\nshould have been an atheist if it had not\\nbeen for one recollection and that was the\\nmemory of the time when my departed\\nmother used to take my little hand in hers,\\nand cause me on my knees to say, Our\\nFather who art in heaven As the\\ncharacter is biased in early life, so it\\ngenerally remains, gradually assuming its\\npermanent form as manhood is reached.\\nLive as long as you may, said Southey,\\nthe first twenty years are the longest half\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0of your life, and they are by far the most\\npregnant in consequences.\\nThe poorest dwelling, presided over by a\\n-virtuous, thrifty, cheerful, and cleanly woman,\\nmay thus be the abode of comfort, virtue,\\nand happiness; it may be the scene of every\\nennobling relation in family life; it may be\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0endeared to a man by many delightful asso-\\nciations; furnishing a sanctuary for the heart,\\na refuge from the storms of life, a sweet\\nresting-place after labor, a consolation in\\nmisfortune, a pride in prosperity, and a joy\\nat all times.\\nThe good home is thus the best of schools,\\njiot only in youth but in age. There young\\nand old best learn cheerfulness, patience,\\nself control, and the spirit of service and\\nof duty. Izaak Walton, speaking of George\\nHerbert s mother, says she governed her\\nfamily with judicious care, not rigidly nor\\n.sourly, but with such a sweetness and\\ncompliance with the recreations and plea-\\nsures of youth, as did incline them to spend\\nmuch of their time in her company, which\\nwas to her great content.\\nThere is no spot, or high or lo-w.\\nWhich darkness visits not at times\\nNo shelter from the reach of -fs^oe,\\nIn farthest lands of fairest climes.\\nThe tempests shake the stoutest tree,\\nAnd every flow ret droops in turn\\nTo mourn is nature s destiny,\\nAnd all that live must live to mourn.\\nNo home so happy, but that pain,\\nAnd grief, and care, the doors -will press,\\nWhen love s most anxious thoughts are vain,\\nMore anxious firom their helplessness.\\nAnd yet, if aught can soften grief,\\nTis home s sweet influence if there be\\nRelief from sorro w, that relief\\nSprings from domestic sympathy.\\nThe home that virtue hallo vrs, flings\\nAnother bliss o er blessedness\\nAnd e en to sorrow s children brings\\nOr peace to calm, or hope to bless.\\nJohn Bowring.\\nOld Dr. Cotton was celebrated for his skill\\nin treating diseases of insanity. A consid-\\nerable part of his treatment is contained in\\nthe following lines, which are worth learning\\nand always remembering\\nDear Chloe, we will oft retire\\nTo our own family and fire.\\nWhere love our hours employs\\nNo noisy neighbor enters here,\\nNo intermeddling stranger near.\\nTo spoil our heartfelt joys.\\nIf solid happiness we prize,\\nWithin our breast this jewel lies,\\nAnd they are fools who roam\\nThe world hath nothing to bestow\\nFrom our own selves our bliss must flow,\\nAnd that dear hut, our home.\\nOur portion is not large, indeed\\nBut then how little do we need.\\nFor nature s calls, are few", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0057.jp2"}, "58": {"fulltext": "26\\nTHE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\nIn this the art of living lies,\\nTo want no more than may suffice,\\nAnd make that little do.\\nWe ll therefore relish with content\\nWhate er kind Providence has sent,\\nNor aim beyond our power\\nFor, if our stock be very small,\\nTis prudence to enjoy it all,\\nNor lose the present hour.\\nTo be resigned when ills betide,\\nPatient when favors are denied,\\nAnd pleased with favors given\\nDear Chloe, this is wisdom s part,\\nThis is that incense of the heart.\\nWhose fragrance smells to heaven.\\nNathaniel Cotton.\\nBut while homes, which are the nurseries\\nof character, may be the best of schools,\\nthey may also be the worst. Between child-\\nhood and manhood how incalculable is the\\nmischief which ignorance in the home has\\nthe power to cause! Between the drawing\\nof the first breath and the last, how vast is\\nihc moral suffering and disease occasioned\\nby incompetent mothers and nurses Com-\\nmit a child to the care of a worthless, igno-\\nrant woman, and no culture in after-life will\\nremedy the evil you have done.\\nThe Mother of Napoleon.\\nLet the mother be idle, vicious, and a\\nslattern let her home be pervaded by cavil-\\nling, petulance, and discontent, and it will\\nbecome a dwelling of misery a place to fly\\nfrom, rather than to fly to and the children\\nwhose misfortune it is to be brought up there\\nwill be morally dwarfed and deformed the\\ncause of misery to themselves as well as to\\nothers.\\nNapoleon Bonaparte was accustomed to\\nsay that the future good or bad conduct of\\na child depended entirely on the mother.\\nHe himself attributed his rise in life in a\\ngreat measure to the training of his will, his\\nenergy, and his self control, by his mother\\nat home. Nobody had any command over\\nhim, says one of his biographers, except\\nhis mother, who found means, by a mixture\\nof tenderness, severity, and justice, to make\\nhim love, respect, and obey her; from her\\nhe learnt the virtue of obedience.\\nThe Noblest Work,\\nThe greater part of the influence exercised!\\nby women on the formation of character\\nnecessarily remains unknown. They ac-\\ncomplish their best works in the quiet\\nseclusion of the home and the family, by-\\nsustained effort and patient perseverance in\\nthe path of duty. Their greatest triumphs,.\\nbecause private and domestic, are rarely\\nrecorded and it is not often, even in the-\\nbiographies of distinguished men, that we\\nhear of the share which their mothers have:\\nhad in the formation of their character, and.\\nin giving them a bias towards goodness..\\nYet are they not on that account \\\\\\\\athout;\\ntheir reward. The influence they have exer-\\ncised, though unrecorded, lives after them,\\nand goes on propagating itself in conse-\\nquences forever.\\nWe do not often hear of great women, a?\\nwe do of great men. It is of good womerii\\nthat we mostly hear and it is probable that,\\nby determining the character of men and\\nwomen for good, they are doing even greater\\nwork than if they were to paint great pictures,\\nwrite great books, or compose great operas.\\nIt is quite true, says a well-known author,\\nthat women have written no Iliad, nor\\nHamlet, nor Paradise Lost; they have\\ndesigned no Church of St. Peter s, composed\\nno Messiah, carved no Apollo Belvedere,\\npainted no Last Judgment; they have\\ninvented neither algebra, nor telescopes, nor\\nsteam-engines; but they have done some-\\nthing far greater and better than all this, for\\nit is at their knees that upright and virtuous-", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0058.jp2"}, "59": {"fulltext": "JUST AS THE TWIG IS BENT THE TREE S INCLINED.\\nmen and women have been trained the\\nmost excellent productions in the world.\\nOver the exhibit of one of the States at\\nthe World s Fair in Chicago these words\\nwere written Her finest productions are\\nher sons and daughters. Men and women,\\nnoble and true may the grand race of such\\nnever cease in this land of ours\\nWhat made Washington Great.\\nGeorge Washington was only eleven years\\nof age the eldest of five children when his\\nfather died, leaving his mother a widow.\\nShe was a woman of rare excellence full of\\nresources, a good woman of business, an\\nexcellent manager, and possessed of much\\nstrength of character. She had her children\\nto educate and bring up, a large household\\nto govern, and extensive estates to manage,\\nall of which she accomplished with complete\\nsuccess. Her good sense, assiduity, tender-\\nness, industry, and vigilance, enabled her to\\novercome every obstacle and, as the richest\\nreward of her solicitude and toil, she had the\\nhappiness to see all her children come for-\\nward with a fair promise into life, filling the\\nspheres allotted to them in a manner equally\\nhonorable to themselves, and to the parent\\nwho had been the only guide of their prin-\\nciples, conduct and habits.\\nThe biographer of Cromwell says little\\nabout the Protector s father, but dwells upon\\nthe character of his mother, whom he de-\\nscribes as a woman of rare vigor and decision\\nof purpose A woman, he says, possessed\\nof the glorious faculty of self-help when other\\na- sistance failed her; ready for the demands\\nof fortune in its extremest adverse turn; of\\nspirit and energy equal to her mildness and\\npatience; who, with the labor of her own\\nhands, gave dowries to five daughters suffi-\\ncient to marry them into families as hon-\\norable but more wealthy than their own\\nwhose single pride was honesty,, and whose\\npassion was love; who preserved in the\\ngorgeous palace at Whitehall the simple\\ntastes that distinguished her in humble life\\nand whose only care, amidst all her splendor,,\\nwas for the safety of her son in his dangerous,\\neminence.\\nWe have spoken of the mother of Napo-\\nleon Bonaparte as a woman of great force of\\ncharacter. Not less so was the mother of\\nthe Duke of Wellington, whom her son.\\nstrikingly resembled in features, person, and!\\ncharacter while his father was principally\\ndistinguished as a musical composer and\\nperformer. But, strange to say, Wellington s\\nmother mistook him for a dunce; and for\\nsome reason or other, he was not such a\\nfavorite as her other children, until his great\\ndeeds in after-life constirainediliierto. be proud\\nof him.\\nA Model of Excellence.\\nHenry Clay, the pride and honor of his;\\ncountry, always expressedfeelings of profound!\\naffection and veneration for his mother. A\\nhabitual correspondence and enduring affec-\\ntion subsisted between them to the last hour\\nof life. Mr. Clay ever spoke of her as\\na model of maternal character and female\\nexcellence, and it is said that he never met\\nhis constituents in Woodford county, after\\nher death, without some allusion to her,,\\nwhich deeply affected both him and his audi-\\nence. And nearly the last words uttered by\\nthis great statesman, when he came to die,,\\nwere, Mother, mother, mother. It is\\nnatural for us to feel that she must have becM\\na good mother, that was loved and so d i\\nfully served by such a boy, and that neither\\ncould have been wanting in rare virtues.\\nBenjamin Franklin was accustomed tO\\nrefer to his mother in the tenderest tone ofi\\nfilial affection. His respect and affection f c", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0059.jp2"}, "60": {"fulltext": "28\\nTHE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\nher were manifested, among other ways, in\\nfrequent presents, that contributed to her\\ncomfort and solace in her advancing years.\\nIn one of his letters to her, for example, he\\nsends her a moidore, a gold piece of the value\\nof six dollars towards chaise hire, said he,\\nthat you may ride warm to meetings during\\nthe winter. In another he gives her an\\naccount of the growth and improvement of\\nMs son and daughter topics which, as he\\nwell understood, are ever as dear to the\\ngrandmother as to the mother.\\nA Beautiful Tribute.\\nThomas Gray, author of Elegy in a\\nCountry Churchyard, was most assiduous\\nin his attentions to his mother while she\\nlived, and, after her death, he cherished her\\nmemory with sacred sorrow. Mr. Mason\\ninforms us that Gray seldom mentioned his\\nmother without a sigh. The inscription\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0which he placed over her remains, speaks of\\nher as the careful, tender mother of many\\nchildren, one of whom alone had the mis-\\nfortune to survive her. How touching is\\nthis brief tribute of grateful love Volumes\\nof eulogy could not increase our admiration\\nof the gentle being to whom it was paid\\nher patient devotion, her meek endurance.\\nWherever the name and genius of Gray\\nare known, there shall also his mother s\\nvirtues be told for a memorial of her. He\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0was buried, according to his directions, by\\nthe side of his mother, in the churchyard at\\nStoke. After his death her gowns and wear-\\ning apparel were found in a trunk in his\\napartments, just as she had left them. It\\n.seemed as if he could never form the resolu-\\ntion to open it, in order to distribute them to\\nhis female relations, to whom, by his will, he\\nbequeathed them.\\nAmos Lawrence always spoke of his\\nmother in the strongest terms of veneration\\nand love, and in many letters to t Is children\\nand grandchildren, are found messages of\\naffectionate regard for his mother, such as\\ncould have emai: -Hted only from a heart over-\\nflowing with filial gratitude. Her form,\\nbending over his beo M silent prayer, at the\\nhour of twilight, when cUe was about leaving\\nhim for the night, was ii**Jong the first and\\nmost cherished recollectio.^o cf his early\\nyears and his childhood s hor^ O-\\nThe Mother s Early Training.\\nFrom his mother Sergeant S. Prentiss\\ninherited those more gentle qualities that ever\\ncharacterized his life qualities that shed\\nover his eloquence such bewitching sweetness,\\nand gave to his social intercourse such ,an\\nindescribable charm. A remarkably charac-\\nteristic anecdote illustrates his filial affection.\\nWhen on a visit, some years ago, to the\\nNorth, but after his reputation had become\\nwide-spread, a distinguished lady, of Portland,\\nMe., took pains to obtain an introduction, by\\nvisiting the steamboat in which she learned\\nhe was to take his departure in a few\\nmoments.\\nI have wished to see you, said she to\\nMr. Prentiss, for my heart has often con-\\ngratulated the mother who has such a son.\\nRather congratulate the son on having such\\na mother was his instant and heartfelt reply.\\nThis is but one of the many instances in\\nwhich the most distinguished men of all ages\\nhave been proud to refer to the early culture\\nof intellect, the promptings of virtue, or the\\naspirations of piety, and to the influence of\\nthe mother s early training.\\nGeneral Marion was once a plodding\\nyoung farmer, and in no way distinguished\\nas superior to the young men of the neigh-\\nborhood in which he lived, except for his\\ndevoted love and marked respect for his\\nexcellent mother, and exemplary honor and", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0060.jp2"}, "61": {"fulltext": "HOME IS A SHELTER FROM THE WINTRY BLAST.\\nGeorge Herbert.\\n29", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0061.jp2"}, "62": {"fulltext": "THE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\ntruthfulness. In these qualities he was emi-\\nnent from early childhood, and they marked\\nihis character through life. We may remark,\\nan this connection, that it is usual to affect\\nsome degree of astonishment when we read\\nof men whose after fame presents a striking\\ncontrast to the humility of their origin yet\\nwe must recollect that it is not ancestry and\\nsplendid descent, but education and circum-\\nstances, which form the man.\\nIt is often a matter of surprise that distin-\\nguished men have such inferior children, and\\nthat a great name is seldom perpetuated.\\nThe secret of this is as often evident the\\nmothers have been inferior mere ciphers in\\nthe scale of existence. All the splendid\\nadvantages procured by wealth and the\\nfather s position, cannot supply this one defi-\\nciency in the mother, who gives character to\\nthe child.\\nA Remarkable Woinan.\\nSam Houston s mother was an extraordi-\\nnary V, Oman. She was distinguished by a\\nfull, rather tall and matronly form, a fine\\ncarriage, and an impressive and dignified\\ncountenance. She was gifted with intellec-\\ntual and moral qualities, which elevated her,\\nin a till more striking manner, above most\\nof her sex. Her life shone with purity and\\nbenevolence, and yet she was nerved with a\\nstern fortitude, which never gave way in the\\nmidst of the wild scenes that checkered\\nthe history of the frontier settlers. Mrs.\\nHouston was left with the heavy burden of\\na numerous family. She had six sons and\\nthree daughters, but she was not a woman\\nto succumb to misfortune, and she made\\nample provision, for one in her circumstances,\\nfor their future care and education. To\\nbring up a large family of children in a\\nproper manner is, under the most favorable\\ncircumstances, a great work and in this case\\nit rises into sublimity for there is no finer\\ninstance of heroism than that of one parent,\\nespecially a mother, laboring for that end\\nalone. The excellent woman, says Goethe,\\nis she who, if her husband dies, can be a\\nfather to her children.\\nAs wife and mother, a woman is seen in\\nher most sacred and dignified character; as\\nsuch she has great influence over the char-\\nacters of individuals, over the condition of\\nfamilies, and over the destinies of empires.\\nIt is a fact that many of our noblest pat-\\nriots, our most profound scholars and our\\nholiest ministers, were stimulated to their\\nexcellence and usefulness by those holy\\nprinciples which they derived in early years\\nfrom pious mothers.\\nOur mothers are our earliest instructors,\\nand they have an influence over us, the\\nimportance of which, for time and eternity,\\nsurpasses the power of language to describe.\\nEvery mother should be a Sabbath School\\nteacher. Her own children should be her\\nclass and her home should be her school-\\nhouse. Then her children will bless her for\\nher tenderness and care; for her pious\\ninstructions, her fervent prayers and the\\nholy example.\\nWhat Ex-President Adams Said.\\nWhen ex-President Adams was present at\\nthe examination of a girls school at Boston,\\nhe was presented by the pupils with an\\naddress which deeply affected him and in\\nacknowledging it, he took the opportunity of\\nreferring to the lasting influence which\\nwomanly training and association had exer-\\ncised upon his own life and character.\\nAs a child, he said, I enj oyed perhaps\\nthe greatest of blessings that can be\\nbestowed on man that of a mother who\\nwas anxious and capable to form the char-\\nacters of her children rightly. From her I", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0062.jp2"}, "63": {"fulltext": "JUST AS THE TWIG IS BENT THE TREE S INCLINED.\\n31\\nderived whatever instruction (religious es-\\n.especially, and moral) has pervaded a long\\nlife I will not say perfectly, or as it ought\\nto be; but I will say, because it is only jus-\\ntice to the memory of her I revere, that in\\nthe course of that life, whatever imperfection\\nthere has been, or deviation from what she\\ntaught me, the fault is mine, and not hers.\\nA Harsh Father.\\nThe Wesleys were peculiarly linked to\\ntheir parents by natural piety, though the\\nmother, rather than the father, influenced\\ntheir minds and developed their characters.\\nThe father was a man of strong will, but\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2occasionally harsh and tyrannical in his\\ndealings with his family. The father of the\\nWesleys had even determined at one time to\\nabandon his wife because her conscience for-\\nbade her to assent to his prayers for the then\\nreigning monarch, and he was only saved\\nfrom the consequences of his rash resolve\\nby the accidental death of William III. He\\ndispla) ed the same overbearing disposition in\\ndealing with his children; forcing his daugh-\\nter Mehetabcl to marry, against her will, a\\nman whom she did not love, and who proved\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2entirely unworthy of her.\\nThe mother, with much strength of under-\\nstanding and ardent love of truth, was gentle,\\npersuasive, affectionate, and simple. She was\\nthe teacher and cheerful companion of her\\nchildren, who gradually became moulded by\\nIher example. It was through the bias given\\nty her to her sons* minds in religious mat-\\nters that they acquired the tendency which,\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2even in early years, drew to them the name\\nof Methodists.\\nIn a letter to her son, Samuel Wesley,\\nwhen a scholar at Westminster in 1709, she\\nsaid I would advise you as much as pos-\\nsible to throw your business into a certain\\nmethod, by wkich means you will learn to\\nimprove every precious moment, and find an\\nunspeakable facility in the performance of\\nyour respective duties. This method\\nshe went on to describe, exhorting her son\\nin all things to act upon principle and the\\nsociety which the brothers John and Charles\\nafterwards founded at Oxford is supposed to\\nhave been in a great measure the result of her\\nexhortations.\\nIn the case of poets, hterary men, and\\nartists, the influence of the mother s feeling\\nand taste has doubtless had great effect in\\ndirecting the genius of their sons. Goethe,\\nlike Schiller, owed the bias of his mind and\\ncharacter to his mother, who was a woman\\nof extraordinary gifts. She was full of\\njoyous, flowing mother-wit, and possessed in\\na high degree the art of stimulating young\\nand active minds, instructing them in the\\nscience of life out of the treasures of her\\nabundant experience. After a lengthened\\ninterview with her, an enthusiastic traveller\\nsaid, Now do I understand how Goethe has\\nbecome the man he is. Goethe himself\\naffectionately cherished her memory. She\\nwas worthy of life he once said of her;\\nand when he visited Frankfort, he sought\\nout every individual who had been kind to\\nhis mother, and thanked them all.\\nW^ords of a Renowned Historian.\\nThe French historian Michelet makes the\\nfollowing touching reference to his mother in\\nthe Preface to one of his most popular books,\\nthe subject of much imbittered controversy\\nat the time at which it appeared\\nWhile writing all this, I have had in my\\nmind a woman whose strong and serious\\nmind would not have failed to support me in\\nthese contentions. I lost her thirty years\\nago (I was a child then) nevertheless, ever\\nliving in my memory, she follows me from\\nage to age.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0063.jp2"}, "64": {"fulltext": "32\\nTHE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\nShe suffered with me in my poverty,\\nund was not allowed to share my better for-\\ntune. When young, I made her sad, and\\nnow I cannot console her. I know not even\\nwhere her bones are: I was too poor then to\\nbuy earth to bury her\\nAnd yet I owe her much. I feel deeply\\nthat I am the son of woman. Every instant,\\nin my ideas and words (not to mention my\\nfeatures and gestures), I find again my\\nmother in myself. It is my mother s blood\\nwhich gives me the sympathy I feel for by-\\ngone ages, and the tender remembrance of\\nall those who are now no more.\\nWhat return, then, could I, who am\\nmyself advancing towards old age, make her\\nfor the many things I owe her? One, for\\nwhich she would have thanked me this\\nprotest in favor of women and mothers.\\nAfter reading such lines one cannot but\\nexclaim\\nO wondrous power, how little understood\\nEntrusted to the mother s mind alone,\\nTo fashion genius, form the soul for good.\\nThis power has shown itself on many\\noccasions, especially in times of trial and\\ndanger. In the glaring fire of battle, in\\ncamp and hospital, in the throes of death,\\nitself, maternal influence has proved its\\nstrength, compelling the admission that, as it\\nis the first thing to impress and mould a\\nhuman being, so it is the last to leave and\\nforsake him.\\nAn Incident of the W^ar.\\nAmong the very brave, uncomplaining\\nfellows who were brought up from the battle\\nof Fredericksburg, was a bright-eyed intelli-\\ngent young man, or boy rather, of sixteen\\nyears. He appeared more affectionate and\\ntender than his comrades, and attracted a\\ngood deal of attention from the attendants\\nand visitors. Manifestly the pet of some\\nhousehold, he longed for nothing so much\\nas the arrival of his mother, who was\\nexpected, for he knew he was mortally\\nwounded, and failing fast. Ere she arrived,\\nhowever, he died.\\nBut he thought she had come, for while\\na kind lady visitor was wiping the death-\\nsweat from his brow, as his sight was failing,\\nhe rallied a little, like an expiring taper in its\\nsocket, looking up longingly and joyfully,\\nand in the tenderest pathos whispered quite\\naudibly, Is that mother? in tones that\\ndrew tears from every eye. Then, drawing\\nher towards him with all his feeble power,,\\nhe nestled his head in her arms like a sleep-\\ning infant, and thus died, with the sweet\\nword mother on his quivering lips.\\nA High-Tempered Mother.\\nBut while a mother may greatly influence\\nthe poetic or artistic mind of her son for\\ngood, she may also influence it for evil.\\nThus the characteristics of Lord Byron the\\nwaywardness of his impulses, his defiance\\nof restraint, the bitterness of his hate, and\\nthe precipitancy of his resentments were\\ntraceable in no small degree to the adverse\\ninfluences exercised upon his mind from his\\nbirth by his capricious, violent, and head-\\nstrong mother. She even taunted her son\\nwith his personal deformity; and it was no\\nunfrequent occurrence, in the violent quarrels\\nwhich occurred between them, for her to\\ntake up the poker or tongs and hurl them\\nafter him as he fled from her presence.\\nHe grew up to be just what might have\\nbeen expected from one who, in early life,\\nwas governed with a poker and pair of\\ntongs. It was this unnatural treatment that\\ngave a morbid turn to Byron s after-life and,\\ncare-worn, unhappy, great, and yet weak,\\nas he was, he carried about with him the", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0064.jp2"}, "65": {"fulltext": "JUST AS THE TWIG IS BENT THE TREE S INCLINED.\\n33\\nmother s poison which he had sucked in his\\ninfancy. Hence he exclaims, in his Childe\\nHarold:\\nAnd thus, untaught in youth my heart to tame,\\nMy springs of life were poisoned.\\nLike Mother, Like Son.\\nIn like manner, though in a different way,\\nthe character of Mrs. Foote, the actor s\\nmother, was curiously repeated in the life of\\nher joyous, jovial-hearted son. Though she\\nhad been heiress to a large fortune, she soon\\nspent it all, and was at length imprisoned for\\ndebt. In this condition she wrote to Sam,\\nwho had been allowing her 500 dollars a year\\nout of the proceeds of his acting: Dear\\nSam, I am in prison for debt; come and\\nassist your loving mother, E. Foote. To\\nwhich her son characteristically replied\\nDear mother, so am I; which prevents his\\nduty being paid to his loving mother by her\\naffectionate son, Sam Foote.\\nWe have spoken of the mother of Wash-\\nington as an excellent woman of business;\\nand to possess such a quality as capacity for\\nbusiness is not only compatible with true\\nwomanliness, but is in a measure essential to\\nthe comfort and well-being of every properly-\\ngoverned family. Habits of business do not\\nrelate to trade merely, but apply to all the\\npractical affairs of life ^to everything that\\nhas to be arranged, to be organized, to be\\nprovided for, to be done.\\nAnd in all those respects the management\\nof a fannry and of a household is as much\\na matter of business as the management of a\\nshop or of a counting-house. It requires\\nmethod, accuracy, organization, industry,\\neconomy, discipline, tact, knowledge, and\\ncapacity for adapting means to ends. All\\nthis is of the essence of business and hence\\nbusiness habits are as necessary to be culti-\\n3\\nvated by women who would succeed in the\\naffairs of home in other words, who would\\nmake home happy as by men in the affairs\\nof trade, of commerce, or of manufacture.\\nA Wrong Idea.\\nThe idea has, however, heretofore prevailed,\\nthat women have no concern with such mat-\\nters, and that business habits and qualifica-\\ntions relate to men only. Take, for instance,\\nthe knowledge of figures. Mr. John Bright\\nhas said of boys, Teach a boy arithmetic\\nthoroughly, and he is a made man. And\\nwhy? Because it teaches him method,\\naccuracy, value, proportions, relations. But\\nhow many girls are taught arithmetic well?\\nIf they are not so taught, what is the conse-\\nquence? When the girl becomes a wife,\\nif she knows nothing of figures, and is inno-\\ncent of addition and multiplication, she can\\nkeep no record of income and expenditure,\\nand there will probably be a succession of\\nmistakes committed which may be prolific\\nin domestic contention. The woman, not\\nbeing up to her business that is, the man-\\nagement of her domestic affairs in conformity\\nwith the simple principles of arithmetic will,\\nthrough sheer ignorance, be apt to commit\\nextravagances, though unintentional, which\\nmay be most injurious to her family peace\\nand comfort.\\nMethod, which is the soul of business, is\\nalso of essential importance in the home.\\nWork can only be got through by method.\\nMuddle flies before it, and confusion becomes\\na thing unknown. Method demands punctu-\\nality, another eminently business quality-\\nThe unpunctual woman, like the unpunctual\\nman, occasions dislike, because she consumes\\nand wastes time, and provokes the reflection\\nthat we are not of sufficient importance to\\nmake her more prompt. To the business\\nman, time is money; but to the business", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0065.jp2"}, "66": {"fulltext": "34\\nTHE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\nwoman, method is more it is peace, comfort,\\nand domestic prosperity.\\nWe miss success, some persons state,\\nAnd one can well see through it,\\nFor when it comes to being late\\nThey know just how to do it.\\nPrudence is another important business\\nquality in women, as in men. Prudence is\\npractical wisdom, and comes of the culti-\\nvated judgment. It has reference in all\\nthings to fitness, to propriety; judging\\nwisely of the right thing to be done, and the\\nright way of doing it. It calculates the\\nmeans, order, time, and method of doing.\\nPrudence learns from experience, quickened\\nby knowledge.\\nThe Importance of Health.\\nFor these, among other reasons, habits of\\nbusiness are necessary to be cultivated by all\\nwomen, in order to their being efficient\\nhelpers in the world s daily life and work.\\nFurthermore, to direct the power of the home\\naright, women, as the nurses, trainers, and\\neducators of children, need all the help and\\nstrength that mental culture can give them.\\nMere instinctive love is not sufficient.\\nInstinct, which preserves the lower creatures,\\nneeds no training; but human intelligence,\\nwhich is in constant request in a family,\\nneeds to be educated. The physical health\\nof the rising generation is intrusted to woman\\nby Providence; and it is in the physical\\nnature that the moral and mental nature Hes\\nenshrined. It is only by acting in accord-\\nance with the natural laws, which, before she\\ncan follow, woman must needs understand,\\nthat the blessings of health of body, and\\nhealth of mind and morals, can be secured\\nat home. Without a knowledge of such\\nlaws, the mother s love too often finds its\\nrecompense only in a child s coffin.\\nIt is a mere truism to say that the intel-\\nlect with which woman as well as man is;\\nendowed has been given for use and exer-\\ncise, and not to rust in her unused. Such\\nendowments are never conferred without a\\npurpose. The Creator may be lavish in his\\ngifts, but he is never wasteful.\\nWoman was not meant to be either an\\nunthinking drudge or the merely pretty\\nornament of man s leisure. She exists for\\nherself as well as for others and the seri-\\nous and responsible duties she is called upon,\\nto perform in life require the cultivated head\\nas well as the sympathizing heart. Her\\nhighest mission is not to be fulfilled by the\\nmastery of fleeting accomplishments, on\\nwhich so much useful time is now wasted\\nfor, though accomplishments may enhance\\nthe charms of youth and beauty, of them-\\nselves sufficiently charming, success, after\\nall, does not depend upon them.\\nA Narrow View.\\nIt has been said that chemistry enough to\\nkeep the pot boiling, and geography enough\\nto know the different rooms in her house,,\\nwas science enough for any woman while\\nByron, whose sympathies for woman were of\\na very imperfect kind, professed that he\\nwould limit her library to a Bible and a cook^\\nbook. But this view of woman s character\\nand culture is absurdly narrow and unin-\\ntelligent.\\nSpeaking generally, the training and disci-\\npline that are most suitable for the one sex in\\nearly life are also the most suitable for the\\nother; and the education and culture that fill\\nthe mind of the man will prove equally whole-\\nsome for the woman. Indeed, all the argu-\\nments which have yet been advanced in favor\\nof the higher education of men plead equally\\nstrongly in favor of the higher education of\\nwomen. In all the departments of home.", "height": "3479", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0066.jp2"}, "67": {"fulltext": "THE MOTHER IS THE CHILD S PLAYMATE.\\n35,", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0067.jp2"}, "68": {"fulltext": "36\\nTHE INFLUE^XE OF HOME.\\nintelligence will add to woman s usefulness\\nand efficiency. It will give her thought and\\nforethought, enable her to anticipate and\\nprovide for the contingencies of life, suggest\\nimproved methods of management, and gi\\\\e\\nher strength in every way.\\nIn disciplined mental power she will find a\\nstronger and safer protection against decep-\\ntion and imposture than in mere innocent\\nand unsuspecting ignorance in moral and\\nreligious culture she will secure sources of\\ninfluence mere powerful and enduring than\\nin physical attractions and in due self-reli-\\nance and self-dependence she will discover\\nthe truest sources of domestic comfort and\\nhappiness.\\nXot froiii his head was woman took,\\nAs made her husband lo o erlook\\nNot from his feet, as one designed\\nThe footstool of the stroug. r kind\\nBut fashioned for himself, a Lride,\\nAn equal, taken from his side\\nHer place intended to maintain,\\nThe mate and glory of the man,\\nTo rest in peace beneath his arm,\\nj rotected by her lord from harm,\\nAi^d never from his heart removed,\\nOne only less than God beloved.\\nCharles Wesley.\\nThe Need of Good Mothers.\\nBit while the mind and character of\\nwomej. ought to be cultivated with a view to\\ntheir o\\\\.n well-being, they ought not the less\\nto be educated liberally with a view to the\\nhappiness of others. Men themselves can-\\nnet be sound in mind or morals if women\\nbe the reverse and if, as we hold to be the\\ncase, th:: moral condition of a people mainly\\ndepends u[)on the education of the home,\\nihcn l!vj education of women is to be\\nregarded as a matter of national importance.\\nNot only does the moral character but\\nthe mental strength of man find its best safe-\\nguard and support in the moral purity and\\nmental cultivation of woman but the more\\ncompletely the powers of both are devel-\\noped, the more harmonious and well-ordered\\nwill society be the more safe and certain its\\nelevation and advancement.\\nWhen the first Napoleon said that the\\ngreat want of France was mothers, he meant,\\nin other words, that the French people needed\\nthe education of homes, presided over by\\ngood, virtuous, inteUigent women. Indeed,\\nthe first French Revolution presented one of\\nthe most striking illustrations of the social\\nmischiefs resulting from a neglect of the puri-\\nfying influence of women. When that great\\nnational outbreak occurred, society was rotten\\nwith vice and profligacy. Morals, religion,\\nvirtue, were swamped by sensualism. The\\ncharacter of woman had become depraved.\\nConjugal fidelity was disregarded maternity\\nwas held in reproach family and home were\\nalike corrupted. Domestic purity no longer\\nbound society together. France was mother-\\nless the children broke loose and the\\nRevolution burst forth, amidst the yells and\\nthe fierce violence of women.\\nThe influence of woman is the same every-\\nwhere. Her condition influences the morals,\\nmanners, and character of the people in all\\nCv^untries. Where she is debased, society is\\ndebased where she is morally pure and\\nenhg.iitened, society will be proportionately\\nelevated.\\nA Subject Demanding Attention.\\nHence, t-\u00c2\u00bb instruct woman is to instruct\\nman to elevate her character is to rsise\\nhis own to enlarge her mental freedom is to\\nextend and secure that of the whole commu-\\nnity. For nations are but the outcomes of\\nhomes, and peoples of mothers.\\nThere is, however, one special department\\nof woman s work demanding the earnest\\nattention of all true female reformers, *hough", "height": "3480", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0068.jp2"}, "69": {"fulltext": "JUST AS THE TWIG IS BENT THE TREE S INCLINED.\\n37\\nit is one which has hitherto been unaccount-\\nably neglected. We mean the better econom-\\nizing and preparation of human food, the\\nwaste of Avhich at present, for want of the\\nmost ordinary culinary knowledge, is little\\nshort of scandalous. If that man is to be\\nregarded as a benefactor of his species who\\nmakes two stalks of grain to grow where only\\none grew before, not less is she to be regarded\\nas a public benefactor who economizes and\\nturns to the best practical account the food-\\nproducts of human skill and labor.\\nA Fine Field for Reform.\\nThe improved use of even our existing\\nsupply would be equivalent to an immediate\\nextension of the cultivable acreage of our\\ncountry not to speak of the increase in\\nhealth, economy, and domestic comfort.\\nWere our female reformers only to turn their\\nenergies in this direction with effect, they\\nwould earn the gratitude of all households,\\nand be esteemed as among the greatest of all\\npractical philanthropists.\\nWe cannot have the highest t ^pe of boys\\nand girls in a home characterized by constant\\nwaste, nor, indeed, by bad cooking. Do not\\nexpect anything except a sour disposition\\nfrom children fed on sour bread. Poor\\npastry and poor blood go together, and thin\\nblood can never make a thick and well\\nrounded character. Man is an animal, and\\nmust be suitably fed and nourished. It may\\nseem singular to maintain that bad cooking\\nand bad character go together, but it is a\\nserious fact that the best Christians are they\\nwho have the best stomachs. To put\\ndyspepsia into the flesh is to put petulance,\\nsourness, despondency into the spirit. V/e\\nnot only want mothers who can say a prayer\\nand teach a catechism we want mothers Avho\\ncan wash a baby and make a loaf of bread.\\nWoman has often shown her immense\\ncapabilities. We cannot forget the courage\\nof Lady Franklin, who persevered to the\\nlast, when the hopes of all others had died\\nout, in prosecuting the search after the\\nFranklin Expedition to the polar world.\\nOn the occasion of the Royal Geographical\\nSociety determining to award the Founder s\\nMedal to Lady Franklin, Sir Roderick\\nMurchison observed that, in the course of a\\nlong friendship with her, he had abundant\\nopportunities of observing and testing the\\nsterling qualities of a woman who had proved\\nherself worthy of the admiration of mankind.\\nNothing daunted by failure after failure,\\nthrough twelve long years of hope deferred,\\nshe had persevered, with a singleness of pur-\\npose and a sincere devotion which were truly\\nunparalleled. And now that her one last\\nexpedition of the steamer Fox, under the\\ngallant M Clintock, had realized the two\\ngreat facts that her husband had traversed\\nwide seas unknown to former navigators,\\nand died in discovering a northwest passage\\nthen, surely, the adjudication of the medal\\nwould be hailed by the nation as one of the\\nmany recompenses to which the widow of\\nthe illustrious Franklin was so eminently\\nentitled.\\nIllustrious Women.\\nBut that devotion to duty which marks\\nthe heroic character has more often been\\nexhibited by women in deeds of charity and\\nmercy. The greater part of these are never\\nknown, for they are done in private, out of\\nthe public sight, and for the mere love of\\ndoing good. Where fame has come to them,\\nbecause of the success which has attended\\ntheir labors in a more general sphere, it has\\ncome unsought and unexpected, and is often\\nfelt as a burden. Who has not heard of\\nMrs. Fry and Miss Carpenter as prison-\\nvisitors and reformers: of Mrs. Chisholm", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0069.jp2"}, "70": {"fulltext": "38\\nTHE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\nand Miss Rye as promoters of emigration\\nof Miss Nightingale, Miss Garrett and Miss\\nClara Barton, as apostles of hospital nursing;\\nand Miss Frances Willard as a world-\\nrenowned advocate of temperance\\nThat these women should have emerged\\nfrom the sphere of private and domestic life\\nto become leaders in philanthropy, indicates\\nno small degree of moral courage on their\\npart for to women, above all others, quiet\\nand ease and retirement are most natural and\\nwelcome. Very few women step beyond the\\nboundaries of home in search of a larger field\\nof usefulness.\\nWe have dwelt thus long and earnestly\\nupon the mother s influence, for the reason\\nthat if children ever get the right start, she\\nmust be mainly instrumental in giving it.\\nThe hand that rocks the cradle is the hand\\nthat rocks the world.\\nTHE CHILDREN.\\nWhen the lessons and tasks are all ended.\\nAnd the school for the day is dismissed,\\nAnd the little ones gather around me,\\nTo bid me good-night and be kissed\\nOh, the little white arms that encircle\\nMy neck in a tender embrace\\nOh, the smiles that are lialos of heaven,\\nShedding sunshine of love on my face I\\nAnd when they are gone I sit dreaming\\nOf my childhood too lovely to last\\nOf love that my heart will remember.\\nWhen it wakes to the pulse of the past,\\nEre the world and its wickedness made me\\nA partner of sorrow and sin\\nWhen the glory of God was about me.\\nAnd the glory of gladness within.\\nOh my heart grows weak as a woman s.\\nAnd the fountain of feeling will flow.\\nWhen I think of the paths steep and stony.\\nWhere the feet of the dear ones must go\\nOf the mountains of sin hanging o er them.\\nOf the tempest of fate blowing wild\\nOh there is nothing on earth half so holy\\nAs the innocent heart of a child.\\nThey are idols of hearts and of households-.\\nThey are angels of God in disguise\\nHis sunlight still sleeps in their tresses,\\nHis glory still gleams in their eyes\\nOh these truants from home and from heaven,\\nThey have made me more manly and mild,\\nAnd I know how Jesus could liken\\nThe kingdom of God to a child.\\nI ask not a life for the dear ones,\\nAll radiant, as others have done.\\nBut that life may have enough shadow\\nTo temper the glare of the sun\\nI would pray God to guard them from evil,\\nBut my prayer would come back to myself;\\nAh, a seraph may pray for a sinner,\\nBut a sinner must pray for himself.\\nThe twig is so easily bended,\\nI have banished the rule and the rod\\nI have taught them the goodness of knowledge.\\nThey have taught me the goodness of God;\\nMy heart is a dungeon of darkness.\\nWhere I shut them for breaking a rule\\nMy frown is sufficient correction\\nMy love is the law of the school.\\nI shall leave the old house in the autumn,\\nTo traverse its threshold no more\\nAh, how I shall sigh for the dear ones,\\nThat meet me each morn at the door,\\nI shall miss the good-nights and the kisses,\\nAnd the gush of their innocent glee.\\nThe group on the green, and the flowers\\nThat are brought every morning to me.\\nI shall miss them at morn and evening,\\nTheir song in the school and the street;\\nI shall miss the low hum of their voices,\\nAnd the tramp of their delicate feet.\\nWhen the lessons and tasks are all ended,\\nAnd death says The school is dismissed,\\nMay the little ones gather around me,\\nTo bid me good-night and be kissed.\\nCharles Dickerson.", "height": "3462", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0070.jp2"}, "71": {"fulltext": "CHAPTTER II.\\nTHE FORCE OF EXAMPLE.\\nHE mocking bird is one of the\\nwonders of the forest. While\\nhe sings with a whole choir\\nof birds, the ear can listen\\nonly to the mocker, and when\\nhe is in full song, a bystander\\nmight suppose that he hears\\nall other birds in one. In his domesticated\\nstate, this bird whistles for the dog, and the\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0dog starts up and hurries away to meet his\\nmaster. The mocker screams like a hurt\\nchicken, and the hen flutters her drooping\\nwing and bristling feathers, eager to defend\\nher brood. The barking of the dog, the\\nmewing of the cat, the tune taught by his\\nmaster, the quivering notes of the canary, all\\nare repeated by the mocker and so perfect\\nis his power of imitation, that other birds are\\nsaid to become mute beside their rival, as if\\ntheir powers were superseded by his.\\nNow, a similar principle of imitation\\noperates in our homes it is there that its\\nmost concentrated power appears. Affection\\nand duty, precept and promise, with all that\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0can sway a young immortal, induce or even\\nbind a child to imitate a parent. A silent\\ninfluence is thus constantly put forth, of\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0which we may be as unconscious as we are\\nof the beating of the heart, but which is not\\non that account less strong, and the character\\nof a child is commonly just the accumulated\\nresult of this parental example.\\nIt is not more natural for some young\\nanimals to resort to the water, and for others\\nto soar into the air, than for children to\\nreceive impressions through this channel.\\nSuch effects are photographed upon them,\\nand form part of their very existence they\\ngo with them to the grave, and pass with\\nthem into eternity, either to enhance their\\njoy or deepen their sad regrets. Like the\\nmolten metal delivered into the mould, to\\ncome forth either an embodied symmetry or\\na distorted mass, the child thus receives the\\nimpress of the parent for so perfect is the\\npov/er of home, that it as really moulds or\\nmodels us as the potter the clay upon his\\nwheel.\\nWhat Edmund Burke Says.\\nMen, young and old ^but the young\\nmore than the old cannot help imitating\\nthose with whom they associate. It was a\\nsaying of George Herbert s mother, intended\\nfor the guidance of her sons, that as our\\nbodies take a nourishment suitable to the\\nmeat on which we feed, so do our souls as\\ninsensibly take in virtue or vice by the\\nexample or conversation of good or bad\\ncompany.\\nIndeed, it is impossible that association\\nwith those about us should not produce a\\npowerful influence in the formation of\\ncharacter. For men are by nature imitators,\\nand all persons are more or less impressed\\nby the speech, the manners, the gait, the\\ngestures, and the very habits of thinking of\\ntheir companions. Is example nothing\\nsaid Burke. It is everything. Example\\nis the school of mankind, and they will learn\\nat no other.\\nEmerson has observed that even old", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0071.jp2"}, "72": {"fulltext": "THE FORCE OF EXAMPLE.\\n40", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0072.jp2"}, "73": {"fulltext": "THE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\n41\\ncouples, or persons who have been house-\\nmates for a course of years, grow gradually-\\nlike each other so that, if they were to live\\nlong enough, we should scarcely be able to\\nknow them apart. But if this be true of the\\nold, how much more true is it of the young,\\nwhose plastic natures are so much more soft\\nand impressionable, and ready to take the\\nstamp of the life and conversation of those\\nabout them\\nThere has been, observed Sir Charles\\nBell in one of his letters, a good deal said\\nabout education, but those who speak thus\\nappear to me to put out of sight example,\\nwhich is all-in-all. My best education was\\nthe example set me by my brothers. There\\nwas, in all the members of the family, a\\nreliance on self, a true independence, and by\\nimitation I obtained it.\\nInfluence of Example.\\nStill shines the light of holy lives\\nLike star-beams over doubt\\nEach sainted memory, Christ-like, drives\\nSome dark possession out.\\nO friend O brother not in vain\\nThy life so calm and true,\\nThe silver dropping of the rain.\\nThe fall of summer dew\\nWith v^eary hand, yet steadfast will.\\nIn old age as in youth,\\nThy Master found thee sowing still\\nThe good seed of His truth.\\nAs on thy task-field closed the day\\nIn golden-skied decline.\\nHis angel met thee on the way,\\nAnd lent his arm to thine.\\nJ. G. Whittier.\\nIt is in the nature of things that the cir-\\ncumstances which contribute to form the\\ncharacter should exercise their principal\\ninfluence during the period of growth. As\\nyears advance, example and imitation become\\ncustom, and gradually consolidate into habit,\\nwhich is of so much potency that, almost\\nbefore we know it, we have in a measure\\nyielded up to it our personal fieedom.\\nIt is related of Plato that on one occasion\\nhe reproved a boy for playing at some fool-\\nish game. Thou reprovest me, said the\\nboy, for a very little thing. But cus-\\ntom, replied Plato, is not a little thing.\\nBad custom, consolidated into habit, is such\\na tyrant that men sometimes cling to vices\\neven while they curse them. They have\\nbecome the slaves of habits whose power\\nthey are impotent to resist. Hence Locke\\nhas said that to create and maintain that\\nvigor of mind which is able to contest the\\nempire of habit may be regarded as one of\\nthe chief ends of moral discipline.\\nSelecting Good Company.\\nThough much of the education of char-\\nacter by example is spontaneous and uncon-\\nscious, the young need not necessarily be\\nthe passive followers or imitators of those\\nabout them. Their own conduct, far more\\nthan the conduct of their companions, tends\\nto fix the purpose and form the principles of\\ntheir life. Each possesses in himself a\\npower of will and of free activity, v. hich, if\\ncourageously exercised, will enable him to\\nmake his own individual selection of friends\\nand associates. It is only through weak-\\nness of purpose that young people, as well\\nas old, become the slaves of their inclina-\\ntions, or give themselves up to a servile imi-\\ntation of others.\\nIt is a common saying that men are\\nknown by the company they keep. Tht\\nsober do not naturally associate with the\\ndrunken, the refined with the coarse, the\\ndecent with the dissolute. To associate with\\ndepraved persons argues a low taste and\\nvicious tendencies, and to frequent their", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0073.jp2"}, "74": {"fulltext": "42\\nTHE FORCE OF EXAMPLE.\\nsociety leads to inevitable degradation of\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2character. The conversation of such per-\\nsons, says Seneca, is very injurious for\\neven if it does no immediate harm, it leaves\\nits seeds in the mind, and follows us when\\nwe have gone from the speakers a plague\\nsure to spring up in future resurrection.\\nIf young men are wisely influenced and\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0directed, and conscientiously exert their\\nown free energies, they will seek the society\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0of those better than themselves, and strive\\nto imitate their example. In companionship\\nwith the good, growing natures will always\\nfind their best nourishment while compan-\\nionship with the bad will only be fruitful in\\nmischief. There are persons whom to know\\nis to love, honor and admire and others\\nwhom to know is to shun and despise. Live\\nwith persons of elevated characters, and you\\nwill feel lifted and benefited by them Live\\nAvith wolves, says the Spanish proverb, and\\nyou will learn to howl.\\nA Fatal Mistake.\\nIntercourse with even commonplace, sel-\\nfish persons, may prove most injurious, by\\ninducing a dry, dull, reserved and selfish\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2condition of mind, more or less inimical to\\ntrue manliness and breadth of character.\\nThe mind soon learns to run in small\\ngrooves, the heart grows narrow and con-\\ntracted, and the moral nature becomes\\nweak, irresolute and accommodating, which\\nis fatal to all generous ambition or real\\nexcellence.\\nOn the other hand, association with per-\\nsons wiser, better and more experienced\\nthan ourselves is always more or less inspir-\\ning and invigorating. They enhance our\\nown knowledge of life. We correct our\\n-estimates by theirs, and become partners in\\ntheir wisdom. We enlarge our field of ob-\\nservation through their eyes, profit by their\\nexperience, and learn not only from what\\nthey have enjoyed, but which is still more\\ninstructive from what they have suffered.\\nIf they are stronger than ourselves, we\\nbecome participators in their strength. And\\nwe should not forget that commonly the\\nstrongest natures are those that have suf-\\nfered most.\\nAn old fable tells of a farmer who went\\nout to plow in his fields. The plow ripped\\nthe roots of grasses and weeds, and they\\nwere terrified and pained at the work of\\ndestruction. If I do not rend you in\\npieces, said the farmer, you cannot nour-\\nish the seed soon to be sown, nor help grow\\na harvest of golden grain.\\nThe Fruits of Trial.\\nOh let me suffer, till I kno-w\\nThe good that cometh from the pain,\\nLike seeds beneath the -wintry snow,\\nThat -wake in flo-wers and golden grain.\\nOh let me sufifer, till I find\\nWhat plants of sorro-w can impart.\\nSome gift, some triumph of the mind.\\nSome flower, some fruitage of the heart.\\nThe hour of anguish passes by\\nBut in the spirit there remains\\nThe outgrowth of its agony.\\nThe compensation of its pains.\\nIn meekness, which suspects no wrong.\\nIn patience, -which endures control.\\nIn faith, which makes the spirit strong,\\nIn peace and purity of soul.\\nThomas C. Upham.\\nWhat Suffering Does.\\nSuffering curbs our inward passions,\\nChild-like tempers in us fashions.\\nAnd our will to God s subdues\\nThus His hand, so soft and healing.\\nEach disordered power and feeling,\\nBy a blessed change renews.\\nSuffering keeps the thoughts compacted.\\nThat the soul be not distracted\\nBy the world s beguiling art\\nTis like some angelic -warder", "height": "3481", "width": "2356", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0074.jp2"}, "75": {"fulltext": "THE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\n43\\nEver keeping sacred order\\nIn the chambers of the heart.\\nSuffering tunes the heart s emotion\\nTo eternity s devotion,\\nAnd awakes a fond desire\\nFor the land where psalms are ringing,\\nAnd with psalms the martyrs singing\\nSweetly to the harper s choir.\\nJ. Hartmann.\\nNot only do we learn patience and forti-\\ntude from the example of those who know\\nhow to bear their misfortunes submissively\\nand profit by them, but in other ways we are\\ninfluenced by those around us.\\nHenry Martyn s Friend.\\nAn entirely new direction may be given to\\nthe life of a young man by a happy sugges-\\ntion, a timely hint, or the kindly advice of an\\nhonest friend. Thus the life of Henry\\nMartyn, the Indian missionary, seems to\\nhave been singularly influenced by a friend-\\nship which he formed, when a boy, at Truro\\nGrammar School. Martyn himself was of\\nfeeble frame, and of a delicate nervous tem-\\nperament. Wanting in animal spirits, he\\ntook but little pleasure in school sports and\\nbeing of a somewhat petulant temper, the\\nbigger boys took pleasure in provoking him,\\nand some of them in bullying him. One of\\nthe bigger boys, however, conceiving a friend-\\nship for Martyn, took him under his protec-\\ntion, stood between him and his persecutors,\\nand not only fought his battles for him, but\\nhelped him with his lessons.\\nThough Martyn was rather a backward\\npupil, his father was desirous that he should\\nhave the advantage of a college education,\\nand at the age of about fifteen he sent him to\\nOxford to try for a Corpus scholarship, in\\nwhich he failed. He remained for two years\\nmore at the Truro Grammar School, and then\\nwent to Cambridge, where he was entered at\\nSt. John s College. Whom should he find\\nalready settled there as a student but his old\\nchampion of the Truro Grammar School?\\nTheir friendship was renewed and the elder\\nstudent from that time forward acted as the\\nmentor of the younger one.\\nA Patient, Hard-working Fello-w.\\nMartyn was fitful in his studies, excitable\\nand petulant, and occasionally subject to fits\\nof almost uncontrollable rage. His big\\nfriend, on the other hand, was a steady,\\npatient, hard-working fellow and he never\\nceased to watch over, to guide, and to advise\\nfor good his irritable fellow-student. He\\nkept Martyn out of the way of evil company,\\nadvised him to work hard, not for the\\npraise of men, but for the glory of God\\nand so successfully assisted him in his\\nstudies, that at the following Christmas\\nexamination he was the first of his year.\\nYet Martyn s kind friend and mentor never\\nachieved any distinction himself; he passed\\naway into obscurity, leading, most probably,\\na useful though an unknown career; his great-\\nest wish in life having been to shape the\\ncharacter of his friend, to inspire his soul\\nwith the love of truth, and to prepare him\\nfor the noble work, on which he shortly after\\nentered, of an Indian missionary.\\nA somewhat similar incident is said to\\nhave occurred in the college career of Dr.\\nPaley. When a student he was distinguished\\nfor his shrewdness as well as his clumsiness,\\nand he was at the same time the favorite and\\nthe butt of his companions. Though his\\nnatural abilities were great, he was thought-\\nless, idle, and a spendthrift and at the com-\\nmencement of his third year he had made\\ncomparatively little progress.\\nAfter one of his usual night-dissipations, a\\nfriend stood by his bedside on the following\\nmorning. Paley, said he, I have not", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0075.jp2"}, "76": {"fulltext": "TO THE DEAR ONES AT HOME,", "height": "3481", "width": "1995", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0076.jp2"}, "77": {"fulltext": "THE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\n45\\nbeen able to sleep for thinking about you.\\nI have been thinking what a fool you are\\nhave the means of dissipations, and can\\nafford to be idle you are poor, and cannot\\nafford it. could do nothing, probably,\\nven were I to try you are capable of doing\\nnything. I have lain awake all night think-\\ning about your folly, and I have now come\\nsolemnly to warn you. Indeed, if you per-\\nsist in your indolence, and go on in this\\nway, I must renounce your society alto-\\ngether.\\nIt Was the Making of Him.\\nIt is said that Paley was so powerfully\\naffected by this admonition, that from that\\nmoment he became an altered man. He\\nformed an entirely new plan of life, and dili-\\ngently persevered in it. He became one of\\nthe most industrious of students. One by\\none he distanced his competitors, and at the\\nend of the year he came out ahead. What\\nhe afterwards accomplished as an author and\\na divine is sufficiently well known.\\nNo one recognized more fully the influence\\nof personal example on the young than did\\nDr. Arnold. It was the great lever with\\nwhich he worked in striving to elevate the\\nrharacter of his school. He made it his\\n-principal object, first to put a right spirit into\\nthe leading boys by attracting their good and\\nnoble feelings and then to make them instru-\\nmental in propagating the same spirit among\\nthe rest, by the influence of imitation, exam-\\nple, and admiration. He endeavored to make\\nall feel that they were fellow-workers with\\nhimself, and sharers with him in the moral\\nresponsibility for the good government of\\nthe place.\\nOne of the first effects of this high-minded\\nsystem of management was, that it inspired\\nthe boys with strength and self-respect.\\nThey felt that they were trusted. There\\nwere, of course, wild boys, as there are at all\\nschools; and these it was the master s duty\\nto watch, to prevent their bad example con-\\ntaminating others. On one occasion he said\\nto an assistant-master Do you see those\\ntwo boys walking together? I never saw\\nthem together before. You should make an\\nespecial point of observing the company they\\nkeep nothing so tells the changes in a boy s\\ncharacter.\\nYoung Men Could Follow Him.\\nDr. Arnold s own example was an inspir-\\nation, as is that of every great teacher. In\\nhis presence, young men learned to respect\\nthemselves, and out of the root of self-\\nrespect there grew up the manly virtues.\\nHis very presence, says his biographer,\\nseemed to create a new spring of health\\nand vigor within them, and to give to life an\\ninterest and elevation which remained with\\nthem long after they had left him and\\ndwelt so habitually in their thoughts as a\\nliving image, that, when death had taken him\\naway, the bond appeared to be still unbroken,\\nand the sense of separation almost lost in the\\nstill deeper sense of a lite and a union inde-\\nstructible. And thus it was that Dr. Arnold\\ntrained a host of manly and noble characters,\\nwho spread the influence of his example in\\nall parts of the world.\\nSo also was it said of Dugald Stewart,\\nthat he breathed the love of virtue into\\nwhole generations of pupils. To me, says\\nthe late Lord Cockburn, his lectures were\\nlike the opening of the heavens. I felt that\\nI had a soul. His noble views, unfolded in\\nglorious sentences, elevated me into a higher\\nworld. They changed my whole nature.\\nCharacter tells in all conditions of life.\\nThe man of good character in a workshop\\nwill give the tone to his fellows, and elevate\\ntheir entire aspirations! Thus Franklin, while", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0077.jp2"}, "78": {"fulltext": "46\\nTHE FORCE OF EXAMPLE.\\na workman in London, is said to have re-\\nformed the manners of an entire workshop.\\nSo the man of bad character and debased\\nenergy will unconsciously lower and degrade\\nhis fellows. John Brown, whose body lies\\nmouldering in the ground, once said to\\nEmerson, that for a settler in a new coun-\\ntry, one good believing man is worth a hun-\\ndred, nay, worth a thousand men without\\ncharacter. His example is so contagious,\\nthat all other men are directly and bene-\\nficially influenced by him, and he insensibly\\nelevates and lifts them up to his own standard\\nof energetic activity.\\nCharacter is Everything.\\nThe scale\\nOf being is a graduated thing\\nAnd deeper than the vanities of power,\\nOr the vain pomp of glory there is writ\\nGradation, in its hidden characters.\\nThe pathway to the grave may be the same,\\nAnd the proud man shall tr -ad it, and the low,\\nWith his bowed head, shall \\\\.ear him company.\\nDecay will make no difference, and death,\\nWith his cold hand, shall make no difference\\nAnd there will be no precedence of power,\\nIn waking at the coming trump of God\\nBut in the temper of the invisible mind,\\nThe godlike and undying intellect,\\nThere are distinctions that will live in heaven,\\nWhen time is a forgotten circumstance\\nThe elevated brow of kings will lose\\nThe impress of regalia, and the slave\\nWill wear his immortality as free,\\nBeside the crystal waters but the depth\\nOf glory in the attributes of God\\nWill measure the capacities of mind\\nAnd as the angels differ, will the ken\\nOf gifted spirits glorify him more.\\nIt is life s mystery. The soul of man\\nCreateth its own destiny of power\\nAnd, as the trial is intenser here,\\nHis being hath a nobler strength in heaven,\\nN. P. Wittis.\\nThe Power of Goodness.\\nCommunication with the good is invariably\\nproductive of good. The good character is\\ndiffusive in its influence. I was common\\nclay till roses were planted in me, says some\\naromatic earth in the Eastern fable. Like\\nbegets like, and good makes good. It is\\nastonishing, says Canon Moseley, how-\\nmuch good goodness makes. Nothing that\\nis good is alone, nor anything bad it makes\\nothers good or others bad and that other,\\nand so on like a stone thrown into a pond,\\nwhich makes circles that make other wider\\nones, and then others, till the last reaches\\nthe shore. Almost all the good that is in\\nthe world has, I suppose, thus come down to-\\nus traditionally from remote times, and often\\nunknown centres of good. So Mr. Ruskin\\nsays, That which is born of evil begets\\nevil; and that which is born of valor and\\nhonor teaches valor and honor.\\nA Last Message.\\nGreat is the power of goodness to charm\\nand to command. The man inspired by it\\nis the true king of men, drawing all hearts\\nafter him. When General Nicholson lay\\nwounded on his death-bed before Delhi, he\\ndictated this last message to his equally\\nnoble and gallant friend. Sir Herbert Ed-\\nwardes Tell him, said he, I should\\nhave been a better man if I had continued\\nto live with him, and our heavy pubHc\\nduties had not prevented my seeing more of\\nhim privately. I was always the better for\\na residence with him and his wife, however\\nshort. Give my love to them both\\nThere are men in whose presence we feel\\nas if we breathed a spiritual ozone, refresh-\\ning and invigorating, like inhaling mountain\\nair, or enjoying a bath of sunshine.\\nThe very sight of a great and good man\\nis often an inspiration to the young, who\\ncannot help admiring and loving the gentle,\\nthe brave, the truthful, the magnanimous\\nChateaubriand saw Washington only once,\\nbut it inspired him for life. After describing", "height": "3481", "width": "2356", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0078.jp2"}, "79": {"fulltext": "THE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\n47\\nthe interview, he says Washington sank\\ninto the tomb before any little celebrity had\\nattached to my name. I passed before him\\nas the most unknown of beings. He was in\\nall his glory I in the depth of my obscur-\\nity. My name probably dwelt not a whole\\nday in his memory. Happy, however, was\\nI that his looks were cast upon me. I have\\nfelt warmed for it all the rest of my life.\\nThere is a virtue even in the looks of a great\\nman. It does one good to look upon his\\nmanly, honest face, said a poor German\\nwoman, pointing to a portrait of the great\\nReformer hung upon the wall of her humble\\ndwelHng.\\nAdmiration of the Good.\\nEven the portrait of a noble or a good\\nman, hung up in a room, is companionship\\nafter a sort. It gives us a closer personal\\ninterest in him. Looking at the features, we\\nfeel as if we knew him better, and were more\\nnearly related to him. It is a link that con-\\nnects us with a higher and better nature\\nthan our own. And though we may be far\\nfrom reaching the standard of our hero, we\\nare, to a certain extent, sustained and fortified\\nby his depicted presence constantly before us.\\nFox was proud to acknowledge how\\nmuch he owed to the example and conversa-\\ntion of Burke. On one occasion he said of\\nhim that if he was to put all the political\\ninformation he had gained from books, all\\nthat he had learned from science, or that the\\nknowledge of the world and its affairs taught\\nhim, into one scale, and the improvement he\\nhad derived from Mr. Burke s conversation\\nand instruction into the other, the latter\\nwould preponderate.\\nProfessor Tyndall speaks of Faraday s\\nfriendship as energy and inspiration.\\nAfter spending an evening with him, he\\nwrote His work excites admiration, but\\ncontact with him warms and elevates the\\nheart. Here, surely, is a strong man. I\\nlove strength, but let me not forget the ex-\\nample of its union with modesty, tender-\\nness and sweetness in the character of Far-\\naday.\\nWordsworth s Sister.\\nEven the gentlest natures are powerful to.\\ninfluence the character of others for good..\\nThus Wordsworth seems to have been espe-\\ncially impressed by the character of his sis-\\nter Dorothy, who exercised upon his mind,\\nand heart a lasting influence. He describes,\\nher as the blessing of his boyhood as well as\\nof his manhood. Though two years,\\nyounger than himself, her tenderness and\\nsweetness contributed greatly to mould his\\nnature and open his mind to the influences-\\nof poetry\\nShe gave me eyes, she gave me ears,\\nAnd humble cares, and delicate fears\\nA heart, the fountain of sweet tears.\\nAnd love, and thought, and joy.\\nThus the gentlest natures are enabled, by\\nthe power of affection and intelligence, to\\nmould the characters of men destined to\\ninfluence and elevate their race through all\\ntime.\\nSir William Napier attributed the early-\\ndirection of his character first to the impress\\nmade upon it by his mother, when a boy,\\nand afterwards to the noble example of his\\ncommander. Sir John Moore, when a man.\\nMoore early detected the qualities of the\\nyoung officer and he was one of those to\\nwhom the general addressed the encourage-\\nment, Well done, my majors at Corunna.\\nWriting home to his mother, and describing\\nthe little court by which Moore was sur-\\nrounded, he wrote Where shall we find\\nsuch a king?\\nThe career of the late Dr. Marshall HalL", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0079.jp2"}, "80": {"fulltext": "h^\\nE;n+ice+l\\\\ee", "height": "3496", "width": "2002", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0080.jp2"}, "81": {"fulltext": "THE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\n49\\nwas a life-long illustration of the influence of\\ncharacter in forming character. Many emi-\\nnent men still hving trace their success in\\nlife to his suggestions and assistance, without\\nwhich several valuable lines of study and\\ninvestigation might not have been entered on,\\nat least at so early a period. He would say\\nto young men about him, Take up a sub-\\nject and pursue it well, and you cannot fail\\nto succeed. And often he would throw out\\na new idea to a young friend, saying, I\\nmake you a present of it; there is fortune in\\nit, if you pursue it with energy.\\nEnergy Makes Others Energetic.\\nEnergy of character has always a power to\\nevoke energy in others. It acts through\\nsympathy, one of the most influential of\\nhuman agencies. The zealous, energetic\\nman unconsciously carries others along with\\nhim. His example is contagious, and com-\\npels imitation. He exercises a sort of\\nelectric power, which sends a thrill through\\nevery fibre, flows into the nature of those\\nabout him, and makes them give out sparks\\nof fire.\\nDr. Arnold s biographer, speaking of the\\npower of this kind exercised by him over\\nyoung men, says It was not so much an\\nenthusiastic admiration for true genius, or\\nlearning, or eloquence, which stirred within\\nthem it was a sympathetic thrill, caught\\nfrom a spirit that was earnestly at work in\\nthe world whose work was healthy, sus-\\ntained, and constantly carried forward in the\\nfear of God a work that was founded on a\\ndeep sense of its duty and its value.\\nSuch a power, exercised by men of genius,\\nevokes courage, enthusiasm, and devotion.\\nIt is this intense admiration for individuals\\n.such as one cannot conceive entertained for\\na multitude which has in all times produced\\nheroes and m_artyrs. It is thus that the\\nmastery of character makes itself felt. It\\nacts by inspiration, quickening and vivifying\\nthe natures subject to its influence.\\nInfluenced by Dante.\\nGreat minds are rich in radiating force,\\nnot only exerting power, but communicating\\nand even creating it. Thus Dante raised and\\ndrew after him a host of great spirits\\nPetrarch, Boccacio, Tasso, and many more;\\nFrom him Milton learnt to bear the stings\\nof evil tongues and the contumely of evil\\ndays and long years after, Byron, thinking\\nof Dante under the pine-trees of Ravenna,\\nwas incited to attune his harp to loftier\\nstrains than he had ever attempted before.\\nDante inspired the greatest painters of Italy\\nMichael Angelo, and Raphael. So Ariosto\\nand Titian mutually inspired one another,\\nand lighted up each other s glory.\\nGreat and good men draw others after\\nthem, exciting the spontaneous admiration of\\nmankind. This admiration of noble char-\\nacter elevates the mind, and tends to redeem\\nit from the bondage of self, one of the great-\\nest stumbling-blocks to moral improvement.\\nThe recollection of men who have signalized\\nthemselves by great thoughts or great deeds\\nseems to create for the time a purer atmos-\\nphere around us and we feel as if our\\naims and purposes were unconsciously\\nelevated.\\nTell me whom you admire, said Sainte-\\nBeuve, and I will tell you what you are, at\\nleast as regards your talents, tastes, and\\ncharacter. Do you admire mean men?\\nyour own nature is mean. Do you admire\\nrich men? you are of the earth, earthy.\\nDo you admire men of fashion? you are\\nan ape. Do you admire honest, brave, and\\nmanly men you are yourself of an honest,\\nbrave, and manly spirit.\\nIt is in the season of youth, while the", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0081.jp2"}, "82": {"fulltext": "50\\nTHE FORCE OF EXAMPLE.\\ncharacter is forming, that the impulse to\\nadmire is the greatest.\\nThere are, unhappily for themselves,\\npersons so constituted that they have not\\nthe heart to be generous. The most dis-\\nagreeable of all people are those who sit\\nin the seat of the scorner. Persons of this\\nsort often come to regard the success of\\nothers, even in a good work, as a kind of\\npersonal offense. They cannot bear to hear\\nanother praised, especially if he belong to\\ntheir own art, or calling, or profession. They\\nwill pardon a man s failures, but cannot\\nforgive his doing a thing better than they can\\ndo. And where they have themselves failed,\\nthey are found to be the most merciless of\\ndetractors. The sour critic thinks of his\\nrival\\nWhen Heaven with such parts has blest him,\\nHave I not reason to detest him?\\nThe Habit of Fault-Finding,\\nThe mean mind occupies itself with sneer-\\ning, carping, and fault-finding, and is ready\\nto scoff at everything but impudent effrontery\\nor successful vice. The greatest consolation\\nof such persons are the defects of men of\\ncharacter. If the wise erred not, says\\nGeorge Herbert, it would go hard with\\nfools. Yet, though wise men may learn of\\nfools by avoiding their errors, fools rarely\\nprofit by the example which wise men set\\nthem.\\nA German writer has said that it is a\\nmiserable temper that cares only to discover\\nthe blemishes in the character of great men\\nor great periods. Let us rather judge them\\nwith the charity of Bolingbroke, who, when\\nreminded of one of the alleged weaknesses of\\nMarlborough,, observed, He was so great\\na man that I forgot he had that defect.\\nAdmiration of great men, living or dead.\\nnaturally evokes imitation of them in a\\ngreater or less degree. While a mere youth,\\nthe mind of Themistocles was fired by the\\ngreat deeds of his contemporaries, and he\\nlonged to distinguish himself in the service\\nof his country. When the battle of Mara-\\nthon had been fought, he fell into a state of\\nmelancholy and when asked by his friends\\nas to the cause, he replied that the trophies\\nof Miltiades would not suffer him to sleep.\\nA few years later, we find him at the head of\\nthe Athenian army, defeating the Persian\\nfleet of Xerxes in the battles of Artemisium\\nand Salamis his country gratefully acknowl-\\nedging that it had been saved through his\\nwisdom and valor.\\nA Boy s Deep Impression.\\nIt is related of Thucydides that, when a\\nboy, he burst into tears on hearing Herodotus\\nread his history, and the impression made\\nupon his mind was such as to determine the\\nbent of his own genius. And Demosthenes\\nwas so fired on one occasion by the elo-\\nquence of Callestratus, that the ambition was\\nroused within him of becoming an orator\\nhimself Yet Demosthenes was physically\\nweak, had a feeble voice, indistinct articula-\\ntion, and shortness of breath defects which\\nhe was only enabled to overcome by diligent\\nstudy and invincible determination. But with\\nall his practice, he never became a ready\\nspeaker all his orations, especially the most\\nfamous of them, exhibiting indications of\\ncareful elaboration the art and industry of\\nthe orator being visible in almost every sen-\\ntence.\\nSimilar illustrations of character imitating\\ncharacter, and moulding itself by the style\\nand manner and genius of great men, are to\\nbe found pervading all history. Warriors,\\nstatesmen, orators, patriots, poets, and artists\\nall have been, more or less unconsciously,", "height": "3481", "width": "2354", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0082.jp2"}, "83": {"fulltext": "THE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\n51\\nnurtured by the lives and actions of others\\nhving before them or presented for their\\nimitation.\\nThe Great Musicians.\\nThough Haydn once archly observed that\\nhe was loved and esteemed by everybody\\nexcept professors of music, yet all the greatest\\nmusicians were unusually ready to recognize\\neach other s greatness. Haydn himself seems\\nto have been entirely free from petty jealousy.\\nHis admiration of the famous Porpora was\\nsuch that he resolved to gain admission to\\nhis house and serve him as a valet. Having\\nmade the acquaintance of the family with\\nwhom Porpora lived, he was allowed to\\nofficiate in that capacity. Early each morn-\\ning he took care to brush the veteran s coat,\\npolish his shoes, and put his rusty wig in\\norder. At first Porpora growled at the\\nintruder, but his asperity soon softened, and\\neventually melted into affection. He quickly\\ndiscovered his valet s genius, and, by his in-\\nstructions, directed it into the line in which\\nHaydn eventually acquired so much dis-\\ntinction.\\nWhen Correggio first gazed on Raphael s\\nSaint Cecilia, he felt within himself an\\nawakened power, and exclaimed, And I,\\ntoo, am a painter So Constable used to\\nlook back on his first sight of Claude s pict-\\nure of Hagar as forming an epoch in his\\ncareer. Sir George Beaumont s admiration\\nof the same picture was such that he always\\ntook it with him in his carriage when he\\ntravelled from home.\\nIt is the great lesson of biography to\\nteach what man can be and can do at his\\nbest. It may thus give each man renewed\\nstrength and confidence. The humblest, in\\nsight of even the greatest, may admire, and\\nhope, and take courage. These great\\nbrothers of ours in blood and lineage, who\\nlive a universal life,- still speak to us from\\ntheir graves, and beckon us on in the paths\\nwhich they have trod. Their example is\\nstill with us, to guide, to influence and to\\ndirect us. For nobility of character is a\\nperpetual bequest, living from age to age,\\nand constantly tending to reproduce its like.\\nBe Up and Doing,\\nTell me not, in mournful numbers,\\nIvife is but an empty dream I\\nFor the soul is dead that slumbers,\\nAnd things are not what they seem.\\nLife is real Life is earnest\\nAnd the grave is not its goal\\nDust thou art, to dust returnest.\\nWas not spoken of the soul.\\nNot enjoyment, and not sorrow,\\nIs our destined end or way\\nBut to act that each to-morrow\\nFind us farther than to-day.\\nArt is long and Time is fleeting,\\nAnd our hearts, though stout and brav^\\nStill, like muffled drums, are beating\\nFuneral marches to the grave.\\nIn the world s broad field of battle,\\nIn the bivouac of Life,\\nBe not like dumb, driven cattle I\\nBe a hero in the strife\\nTrust no Future, howe er pleasant!\\nLet the dead Past bury its dead I\\nAct act in the li\\\\ ing Present\\nHeart within, and God o erhead\\nLives of great men all remind us\\nWe can make our lives sublime,\\nAnd, departing, leave behind us\\nFootprints on the sands of time\\nFootprints, that perhaps another.\\nSailing o er life s solemn main,\\nA forlorn and shipwrecked brother,\\nSeeing, shall take heart again.\\nLet us, then, be up and doing,\\nWith a heart for any fate\\nStill achieving, still pursuing,\\nLearn to labor and to wait.\\nHenry Wadsworth Longfellow..", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0083.jp2"}, "84": {"fulltext": "52", "height": "3497", "width": "2004", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0084.jp2"}, "85": {"fulltext": "THE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\nsa\\nThus example is one of the most potent\\nof instructors, though it teaches without a\\ntongue. It is the practical school of man-\\nkind, working by action, which is always\\nmore forcible than words. Precept may\\npoint to us the way, but it is silent, continu-\\nous example, conveyed to us by habits, and\\nliving with us in fact, that carries us along.\\nGood advice has its weight but without the\\naccompaniment of a good example it is of\\ncomparatively small influence and it will be\\nfound that the common saying of Do as I\\nsay, not as I do, is usually reversed in the\\nactual experience of life.\\nWe Learn Through the Eye.\\nAll persons are more or less apt to learn\\nthrough the eye rather than the ear and\\nwhatever is seen, in fact, makes a far deeper\\nimpression than anything that is merely read\\nor heard. This is especially the case in\\nearly youth, when the eye is the chief inlet\\nof knowledge. Whatever children see they\\nunconsciously imitate. They insensibly\\ncome to resemble those who are about them\\nas insects take the color of the leaves they\\nfeed on. Hence the vast importance of\\ndomestic training. For whatever may be\\nthe efficiency of schools, the examples set\\nin our homes must always be of vastly\\ngreater influence in forming the characters of\\nour future men and women. The home is\\nthe crystal of society the nucleus of\\nnational character; and from that source, be\\nit pure or tainted, issue the habits, principles\\nand maxims which govern public as well as\\nprivate life. The nation comes from the\\nnursery. Public opinion itself is for the\\nmost part the outgrowth of the home and\\nthe best philanthropy comes from the fire-\\nside.\\nExample in conduct, therefore, even in\\napparently trivial matters, is of no light\\nmoment, inasmuch as it is constantly becom-\\ning inwoven with the lives of others, and\\ncontributing to form their natures for better\\nor for worse. The characters of parents are\\nthus constantly repeated in their children\\nand the acts of affection, discipline, industry\\nand self-control, which they daily exemplify,\\nlive and act when all else which may have\\nbfeen learned through the ear has long been\\nforgotten. Hence a wise man was accus-\\ntomed to speak of his children as his future\\nstate.\\nHow West Became a Painter.\\nEven the mute action and unconscious\\nlook of a parent may give a stamp to the\\ncharacter which is never effaced; arid who\\ncan tell how much evil acts have been stayed\\nby the thought of some good parent, whose\\nmemory their children may not sully by the\\ncommission of an unworthy deed, or the\\nindulgence of an impure thought? The\\nveriest trifles thus become of importance in\\ninfluencmg the characters of men. A kiss\\nfrom my mother, said West, made me a.\\npainter. It is on the direction of such\\nseeming trifles when children that the future\\nhappiness and success of men mainly depend.\\nFowell Buxton, when occupying an emi-\\nnent and influential station in life, wrote to\\nhis mother, I constantly feel, especially in\\naction and exertion for others, the effects of\\nprinciples early implanted by you in my\\nmind. Buxton was also accustomed to\\nremember with gratitude the obligations\\nwhich he owed to an illiterate man, a game-\\nkeeper, named Abraham Plastow, with whom\\nhe played, and rode, and sported a man\\nwho could neither read nor write, but was\\nfull of natural good sense and mother-wit.\\nWhat made him particularly valuable,\\nsays Buxton, were his principles of integrity\\nand honor. He never said or did a thing ia", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0085.jp2"}, "86": {"fulltext": "54\\nTHE FORCE OF EXAMPLE.\\nthe absence of my mother of which she would\\niiave disapproved. He always held up the\\nhighest standard of integrity, and filled our\\nyouthful minds with sentiments as pure and\\nas generous as could be found in the writings\\nof Seneca or Cicero. Such was my first\\ninstructor, and, I must add, my best.\\nThere is something solemn and awful in\\nthe thought that there is not an act done or\\na. word uttered by a human being but carries\\nwith it a train of consequences, the end of\\nwhich we may never trace. Not one but, to\\na certain extent, gives a color to our life, and\\ninsensibly influences the lives of those about\\nus. The good deed or word will live, even\\nthough we may not see it fructify, but so will\\nthe bad and no person is so insignificant as\\nto be sure that his example will not do good\\non the one hand, or evil on the other. The\\nspirits of men do not die; they still live and\\nwalk abroad among us.\\nW^e Do not Stand Alone.\\nThere is, indeed, an essence of immortality\\nin the life of man, even in this world. No\\nindividual in the universe stands alone he is\\na component part of a system of mutual\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0dependencies and by his several acts he\\neither increases or diminishes the sum of\\nhuman good now and forever. As the pres-\\nent is rooted in the past, and the lives and\\nexamples of our forefathers still to a great\\nextent influence us, so are we by our daily\\nacts contributing to form the condition and\\ncharacter of the future.\\nMan is a fruit formed and ripened by the\\nculture of all the foregoing centuries; and\\nthe living generation continues the magnetic\\ncurrent of action and example destined to\\nbind the remotest past with the most distant\\nfuture. No man s acts die utterly; and\\nthough his body may resolve into dust and\\nair, his good or his bad deeds will still be\\nbringing forth fruit after their kind, and\\ninfluencing future generations for all time to\\ncome. It is in this momentous and solemn\\nfact that the great peril and responsibility of\\nhuman existence lies.\\nEvery act we do or word we utter, as well\\nas every act we witness or word we hear,\\ncarries with it an influence which extends\\nover, and gives a color, not only to the\\nwhole of our future life, but makes itself felt\\nupon the whole frame of society. We may\\nnot, and indeed cannot, possibly, trace the\\ninfluence working itself into action in its\\nvarious ramifications, among our children,\\nour friends, or associates yet there it is\\nassuredly, working on forever. And herein\\nlies the great significance of setting forth a\\ngood example a silent teaching which even\\nthe poorest and least significant person can\\npractise in his daily life. There is no one so\\nhumble, but that he owes to others this\\nsimple but priceless instruction.\\nIt Depends on the Man.\\nEven the meanest condition may thus be\\nmade useful for the light set in a low place\\nshines as faithfully as that set upon a hill.\\nEverywhere, and under almost all circum-\\nstances, however externally adverse on our\\nwild frontiers, in cottage hamlets, in the close\\nalleys of great towns the true man may\\ngrow. He who tills a space of earth scarce\\nbigger than is needed for his grave, may\\nwork as faithfully, and to as good purpose,\\nas the heir to thousands. The most common\\nworkshop may thus be a school of industry,\\nscience and good morals, on the one hand;\\nor of idleness, folly and depravity, on the\\nother. It all depends on the individual men,\\nand the use they make of the opportunities\\nfor good which offer themselves.\\nA life well spent, a character uprightly\\nsustained, is no slight legacy to leave to one s", "height": "3496", "width": "2345", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0086.jp2"}, "87": {"fulltext": "THE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\n55\\nchildren, and to the world; for it is the most\\neloquent lesson of virtue and the severest\\nreproof of vice, while it continues an endur-\\ning source of the best kind of riches. Well\\nfor those who can say, as Pope did, in\\nrejoinder to the sarcasm of Lord Hervey,\\nI think it enough that my parents, such as\\nthey were, .never cost me a blush, and that\\ntheir son, such as he is, never cost them a\\ntear.\\nMere Talk Is Useless.\\nIt is not enough to tell others what they\\nare to do, but to exhibit the actual example\\nof doing. What Mrs, Chisholm described\\nto a lady friend as the secret of her success,\\napplies to all life. I found, she said, that\\nif we want anything done, we must go to\\nwork and do it; it is of no use merely to talk\\nnone whatever. It is poor eloquence that\\nonly shows how a person can talk. Had\\nMrs. Chisholm rested satisfied with lecturing,\\nher project, she was persuaded, would never\\nhave got beyond the region of talk; but\\nwhen people saw what she was doing and\\nhad actually accomplished, they fell in with\\nher views and came forward to help her.\\nHence the most beneficient worker is not he\\nwho says the most eloquent things, or even\\nwho thinks the most loftily, but he who does\\nthe most eloquent acts.\\nTrue-hearted persons, even in the hum-\\nblest station in life, who are energetic doers,\\nmay thus give an impulse to good works out\\nof all proportions, apparently, to their actual\\nstation in society. Thomas Wright might\\nhave talked about the reclamation of crimi-\\nnals, and John Pounds about the necessity\\ntor Mission Schools, and yet done nothing;\\ninstead of which they simply set to work\\nwithout any other idea in their minds than\\nthat of doing, not talking.\\nAnd how the example of even t^e poorest\\nman may tell upon society, hear what Dr.\\nGuthrie, the apostle of the Mission School\\nmovement, says of the influence which the\\nexample of John Pounds, the humble Ports-\\nmouth cobbler, exercised upon his own work-\\ning career:\\nThe interest I have been led to take in\\nthis cause is an example of how, in Provi-\\ndence, a man s destiny his course of life,\\nlike that of a river may be determined and\\naffected by very trivial circumstances. It is\\nrather curious at least it is interesting to\\nme to remember that it was by a picture I\\nwas first led to take an interest in mission\\nschools ^by a picture in an old, obscure,\\ndecaying burgh that stands on the shores of\\nthe Frith of Forth, the birthplace of Thomas\\nChalmers. I went to see this place many\\nyears ago, and, going into an inn for refresh-\\nment, I found the room covered with pictures\\nof shepherdesses with their crooks, and sailors\\nin holiday attire, not particularly interesting.\\nBut above the chimney-piece there was a\\nlarge print, more respectable than its neigh-\\nbors, which represented a cobbler s room.\\nThe cobbler was there himself, spectacles on\\nnose, an old shoe between his knees the\\nmassive forehead and firm mouth indicating\\ngreat determination of character, and, beneath\\nhis bushy eyebrows, benevolence gleamed\\nout on a number of poor ragged boys and\\ngirls who stood at their lessons round the\\nbusy cobbler.\\nJohn Pounds, the Cobbler.\\nMy curiosity was awakened and in the\\ninscription I read how this man, John Pounds,\\na cobbler in Portsmouth, taking pity on the\\nmultitude of poor ragged children left by\\nministers and magistrates, and ladies and\\ngentlemen, to go to ruin on the streets how^\\nlike a good shepherd, he gathered in these\\nwretched outcasts how he had trained them", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0087.jp2"}, "88": {"fulltext": "^M^^mmfnmmmmmnmi\\nJOHN POUNDS IN HIS WORKSHOP.\\n5G", "height": "5305", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0088.jp2"}, "89": {"fulltext": "THE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\n57\\nto God and to the world and how, while\\nearning his daily bread by the sweat of his\\nbrow, he had rescued from misery and saved\\nto society not less than five hundred of these\\nchildren. I felt ashamed of myself I felt\\nreproved for the little I had done. My feel-\\nings were touched. I was astonished at this\\nman s achievements and I well remember,\\nin the enthusiasm of the moment, saying to\\nmy companion (and I have seen in my cooler\\nand calmer moments no reason for unsaying\\nthe saying) That man is an honor to\\nhumanity, and deserves the tallest monu-\\nment ever raised within the shores of Britain.\\nI took up that man s history, and I found\\nit animated by the spirit of Him who had\\ncompassion on the multitude. John Pounds\\nAvas a clever man besides, and, like Paul, if\\nhe could not win a poor boy any other way,\\nhe won him by art. He would be seen\\nchasing a ragged boy along the quays, and\\ncompelling him to come to school, not by\\nthe power of a policeman, but by the power\\nof a hot potato.\\nHonor in Due Time.\\nHe knew the love an Irishman had for\\na potato and John Pounds might be seen\\nrunning holding under the boy s nose a\\npotato, like an Irishman, very hot, and with a\\ncoat as ragged as himself. When the day\\ncomes when honor will be done to whom\\nhonor is due, I can fancy the crowd of those\\nwhose fame poets have sung, and to whose\\nmemory monuments have been raised, divid-\\ning like the wave, and, passing the great, and\\nthe noble, and the mighty of the land, this\\npoor, obscure old man stepping forward and\\nreceiving the especial notice of Him who\\nsaid Inasmuch as ye did it to one of the\\nleast of these, ye did it also to Me.\\nThe education of character is very much\\na question of models; we mold ourselves so\\nunconsciously after the characters, manners,\\nhabits and opinions of those who are about\\nus. Good rules may do much, but good\\nmodels far more; for in the latter we have\\ninstruction in action wisdom at work.\\nGood admonition and bad example only\\nbuild with one hand to pull down with the\\nother. Hence the vast importance of exer-\\ncising great care in the selection of com-\\npanions, especially in youth. There is a\\nmagnetic affinity in young persons which\\ninsensibly tends to assimilate them to each\\nother s likeness.\\nContact with the good never fails to im-\\npart good, and, we carry away with us some\\nof the blessing, as travelers garments retain\\nthe odor of the flowers and shrubs through\\nwhich they have passed.\\nThe Force of Valiant Deeds.\\nThe example of the brave is an inspiration\\nto the timid, their presence thrilling through\\nevery fiber. Hence the miracles of valor\\noften performed by ordinary men under the\\nleadership of the heroic. The very recollec-\\ntion of the deeds of the valiant stirs men s\\nblood like the sound of the trumpet. Ziskg\\nbequeathed his skin to be used as a drunv to\\ninspire the valor of the Bohemians. When\\nScanderbeg, prince of Epirus, was dead, the\\nTurks wi-shed to possess his bones, that each\\nmight wear a piece next his heart, hoping\\nthus to secure some portion of the courage\\nhe had displayed while living, and which\\nthey had so often experienced in battle.\\nWhen the gallant Douglas, bearing the\\nheart of Bruce to the Holy Land, saw one\\nof his knights surrounded and sorely pressed\\nby the Saracens, he took from his neck the\\nsilver case containing the hero s bequest, and\\nthrowing it among the thickest press of his\\nfoes, cried, Pass first in fight, as thou wert\\nwont to do, and Douglas will follow thee, or", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0089.jp2"}, "90": {"fulltext": "58\\nTHE FORCE OF EXAMPLE.\\ndie; and so saying, he rushed forward to\\nthe place where it fell, and was there slain.\\nI shall not ask you to go where I am\\nnot willing to lead, said one of our generals\\nin the war. It is needless to say his men\\nwere ready to follow.\\nThe Record of a Noble Life,\\nThe chief use of biography consists in the\\nnoble models of character in which it abounds.\\nOur great forefathers still live among us in\\nthe records of their lives, as well as in the\\nacts they have done, which live also still\\nsit by us at table, and hold us by the hand\\nfurnishing examples for our benefit, which\\nwe may still study, admire and imitate.\\nIndeed, whoever has left behind him the\\nrecord of a noble life, has bequeathed to\\nposterity an enduring source of good, for it\\nserves as a model for others to form them-\\nselves by in all time to come; still breathing\\nfresh life into men, helping them to repro-\\nduce his life anew, and to illustrate his\\ncharacter in other forms. Hence a book\\ncontaining the life of a true man is full of\\nprecious seed. It is a still hving voice: it is\\nan intellect. To use Milton s words, It is\\nthe precious life-blood of a master-spirit,\\nembalmed and treasured up on purpose to a\\nlife beyond life. Such a book never ceases\\nto exercise an elevating and ennobling in-\\nfluence.\\nBut, above all, there is the Book contain-\\ning the very highest Examples set before us\\nto shape our lives by in this world the most\\nsuitable for all the necessities of our mind\\nand heart an example which we can only\\nfollow afar off and feel after,\\nLike plants or vines which never saw the sun,\\nBut dream of him and guess where he may be,\\nAnd do their best to climb and get to him.\\nFranklin was accustomed to attribute his\\nusefulness and eminence to his having early\\nread Cotton Mather s Essays to do Good\\na book which grew out of Mather s own\\nlife. And see how good example draws\\nother men after it, and propagates itself\\nthrough future generations in all lands.\\nFor Samuel Drew avers that he framed his\\nown life, and especially his business habits,\\nafter the model left on record by Benjamin\\nFranklin. Thus it is impossible to say where\\na good example may not reach, or where it\\nwill end, if indeed it have an end.\\nThe Best Kind of Work.\\nOne of the most valuable and one of the\\nmost infectious examples which can be set\\nbefore the young, is that of cheerful working.\\nCheerfulness gives elasticity to the spirit.\\nSpectres fly before it; difficulties cause no\\ndespair, for they are encountered with hope,\\nand the mind acquires that happy disposition\\nto improve opportunities which rarely fails of\\nsuccess. The fervent spirit is always a\\nhealthy and happy spirit working cheerfully\\nitself and stimulating others to work. It\\nconfers a dignity on even the most ordinary\\noccupations. The most effective work, also,\\nis usually the full-hearted work that which\\npasses through the hands or the head of him\\nwhose heart is glad.\\nHume was accustomed to say that he\\nwould rather possess a cheerful disposition\\ninclined always to look at the bright side of\\nthings than with a gloomy mind to be the\\nmaster of an estate of fifty thousand dollars\\na year. Granville Sharp, amid his indefati-\\ngable labors on behalf of the slave, solaced\\nhimself in the evenings by taking part in\\nglees and instrumental concerts at his\\nbrother s house, singing, or playing on\\nthe flute, the clarionet, or the oboe; and,\\nat the Sunday evening oratorios, when\\nHandel was played, by beating the kettle-", "height": "3468", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0090.jp2"}, "91": {"fulltext": "THE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\n59\\nlrums. He also indulged, though spar-\\ningly, in caricature drawing. Fowell Bux-\\nton also was an eminently cheerful man;\\ntaking special pleasure in field sports, in\\nriding about the country with his children^\\nand in mingling in all their amusements.\\nHorace Greeley s Cheerfulness.\\nThe great journalist, Horace Greeley, was\\nconspicuous for his cheerful disposition. His\\nmanner was mild and his appearance con-\\ntented, even under the heaviest labors. He\\ncould take personal abuse of the rankest kind\\nwithout any irritation. He could show\\nindignation, when called for, but his even\\nframe of mind was remarkable for one who\\nhad so many occasions for resentment.\\nIn another sphere of action, Dr. Arnold\\nwas a noble and a cheerful worker, throwing\\nhimself into the great business of his life,\\nthe training and teaching of young men,\\nwith his whole heart and soul. It is stated\\nin his admirable biography, that the most\\nremarkable thing in the Laleham circle was\\nthe wonderful healthiness of tone which pre-\\nvailed there. It was a place where a new-\\ncomer at once felt that a great and earnest\\nwork was going forward.\\nEvery pupil was made to feel that there\\nwas a work for him to do; that his happi-\\nness, as well as his duty, lay in doing that\\nwork well. Hence an indescribable zest was\\ncommunicated to a young man s feeling\\nabout life; a strange joy came over him on\\ndiscerning that he had the means of being\\nuseful, and thus of being happy.\\nAll this was founded on the breadth and\\ncomprehensiveness of Arnold s character, as\\nwell as its striking truth and reality on the\\nunfeigned regard he had for work of all\\nkinds, and the sense he had of its value,\\nboth for the complex aggregate of society\\nand the growth and protection of the indi-\\nvidual. In all this there was no excitement;\\nno predilection for one class of work above\\nanother; no enthusiasm for any one-sided\\nobject; but a humble, profound and most\\nreligious consciousness that work is the\\nappointed calling of man on earth the end\\nfor which his various faculties were given;\\nthe element in which his nature is ordained\\nto develop itself, and in which his progres-\\nsive advance toward heaven is to lie.\\nImitating Defects.\\nSo great is the power of example and so\\ndisposed are all persons to imitation that even\\nvices are sometimes followed, and peculiarities\\nthat should be avoided are adopted. Plutarch\\nsays that among the Persians those persons\\nwere considered most beautiful who were\\nhawk-nosed, for no other reason than that\\nCyrus had such a nose. In Richard the\\nThird s court humps upon the back were\\nthe height of fashion, because Richard was\\nbuilt in this way. According as the various\\npotentates who have condescended to rule\\nmankind have lisped, or stuttered, or limped,\\nor squinted, or spoken through their noses,\\nthese infirmities have been elevated into\\ngraces and commanded the admiration of\\nsilly mortals.\\nThere should, therefore, be great care in\\nthe home not to set an evil example. The\\nyoung will imitate what is placed before\\nthem. It is more important for them to\\nhave a good example to follow than to\\nreceive words of advice and instruction. In\\nhis own pithy way Benjamin Franklin says\\nnone preach better than the ant, yet she says\\nnothing. Many persons can talk, and can\\ndo nothing else. Their words amount to\\nnothing. It is the spouting of the whale\\nthat puffs and blows and makes a great fuss,\\nbut the water all falls back into the sea and\\nnobody is any the better for it.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0091.jp2"}, "92": {"fulltext": "CHAPTKR III.\\nTHE BEST CAPITAL IS CHARACTER^\\nN Independence Hall, Philadel-\\nphia, hangs the famous old\\nLiberty Bell. Every stranger\\nwho visits the Quaker City\\nexpects to take a look at this\\nrelic, which bears the inscription,\\nProclaim liberty throughout\\nthe land to all the inhabitants\\nthereof. When the Declaration of Inde-\\npendence was adopted by Congress, the\\ngreat event was announced by ringing the\\nbell amid the hurrahs and shouts of an\\nexcited populace. It was the one object of\\ninterest in the way of historical relics at the\\nWorld s Fair, and was constantly surrounded\\nby crowds of curious sight-seers.\\nThe old bell met with a misfortune in\\n1835, having been cracked as it was tolling\\nfor Chief Justice Marshall. Since that time\\nits iron tongue has been silent. No attempt\\nhas been made to ring it, and on all our\\nnational anniversaries it is mute. It is\\ndamaged beyond repair. The tones that\\nwere once so clear and inspiring are not now\\nheard. There is no music in the cracked\\nold Liberty Bell, and, except for its history,\\nthe associations connected with it and the\\npart it played on the first morning of our\\nnation s independence, it would have gone\\nfor old metal and would have been melted\\nup long ago. Such would have been the\\nfate of any other bell with such a sorry rent\\nin its side.\\nThe old bell cannot ring, but it can tell us\\nsomething about human character. Here\\nthe flaw is equally damaging. A character\\n60\\nthat is sound, that rings as the perfect beft\\ndoes, is the character you must have if you\\nwould rank well among men and make the\\nmosb of life. You cannot conceal the flaws,\\nand any attempt to do it will soon be\\ndetected. You must be what you seem to\\nbe and what you profess to be. Home is\\nthe place where your character is fashioned,-\\nand the material that goes into the bell must\\nbe of good quality and there must be no\\nflaws in the casting. You are going to have\\nheavy blows struck upon you when you get\\nout into life, and a cracked character is a very\\npoor possession to have on hand. For this\\nreason you will do well to put Avhat is here\\nsaid on this very important matter into the\\nscales and weigh it carefully.\\nWhat Emerson and Luther Say.\\nCharacter is one of the greatest motive\\npowers in the world. In its noblest embodi-\\nments, it exemplifies human nature in its\\nhighest forms, for it exhibits man at his best.\\nEmerson says, Men of character are the\\nconscience of the society to which they\\nbelong. And Martin Luther said, The\\nprosperity of a country depends, not on the\\nabundance of its revenues, nor on the strength\\nof its fortifications, nor on the beauty of its\\npublic buildings but it consists in the num-\\nber of its cultivated citizens, in its men of\\neducation, enlightenment, and character\\nhere are to be found its true interest, its chie\\nstrength, its real power.\\nMen of genuine excellence, in every station\\nof life men of industry, of integrity, of high", "height": "3479", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0092.jp2"}, "93": {"fulltext": "THE BEST CAPITAL IS CHARACTER.\\n61", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0093.jp2"}, "94": {"fulltext": "62\\nTHE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\nprinciple, of sterling honesty of purpose\\ncommand the spontaneous homage of man-\\nkind. It is natural to believe in such men,\\nto have confidence in them, and to imitate\\nthem. All that is good in the world is\\nupheld by them, and without their presence\\nin it the world would not be worth living in.\\nAlthough genius always commands admi-\\nration, character most secures respect. The\\nformer is more the product of brain-power,\\nthe latter of heart-power; and in the long\\nrun it is the heart that rules in life.\\nCommon Duties.\\nGreat men are always exceptional men\\nand greatness itself is but comparative.\\nIndeed, the range of most m.en in life is so\\nlimited, that very few have the opportunity\\nof being great. But each man can act his\\npart honestly and honorably, and to the,\\nbest of his ability. He can use his gifts, and\\nnot abuse them. He can strive to make the\\nbest of life. He can be true, just, honest,\\nand faithful, even in small things. In a word,\\nhe can do his duty in that sphere in which\\nProvidence has placed him.\\nCommonplace though it may appear, this\\ndoing of one s duty embodies the highest\\nideal of life and character. There may be\\nnothing heroic about it but the common lot\\nof men is not heroic. And though the\\nabiding .sense of duty upholds man in his\\nhighest attitudes, it also equally sustains him\\nin the transaction of the ordinary affairs of\\nevery-day existence. Man s life is centered\\nin the sphere of common duties. The most\\ninfluential of all the virtues are those which\\nare the most in request for daily use. They\\nwear the best, and last the longest. Super-\\nfine virtues, which are above the standard of\\ncommon men, may only be sources of tempta-\\ntion and danger. Burke has truly said that\\nthe human system which rests for its basis\\non the heroic virtues is sure to have a super-\\nstructure of weakness or of profligacy.\\nThomas Sackville was lord high treasurer\\nunder Queen EHzabeth and James I. He\\nwas a man of rare virtues, and when his\\nfuneral sermon was delivered, the preacher\\ndid not dwell upon his merits as a statesman,\\nor his genius as a poet, but upon his virtues\\nas a man in relation to the ordinary duties of\\nlife. How many rare things were in him\\nsaid he. Who more loving unto his wife?\\nWho more kind unto his children Who-\\nmore fast unto his friend Who more mod-\\nerate unto his enemy Who more true to-\\nhis word Indeed, we can always better\\nunderstand and appreciate a man s real char-\\nacter by the manner in which he conducts\\nhimself towards those who are the most\\nnearly related to him, and by his transaction\\nof the seemingly commonplace details of daily\\nduty, than by his public exhibition of himself\\nas an author, an orator, or a statesman.\\nThe Noblest Manhood.\\nAt the same time, while duty, for the most\\npart, applies to the conduct of affairs in\\ncommon life by the average of common men,\\nit is also a sustaining power to men of the\\nvery highest standard of character. They\\nmay not have either money, or property, or\\nlearning, or power and yet they may be\\nstrong in heart and rich in .spirit honest,\\ntruthful, dutiful. And whoever strives to do\\nhis duty faithfully is fulfilling the purpose for\\nwhich he was created, and building up in\\nhimself the principles of a manly character.\\nThere are many persons of whom it may be\\nsaid that they have no other possession in\\nthe world but their character, and yet they\\nstand as firmly upon it as any crowned king.\\nIntellectual culture has no necessary rela-\\ntion to purity or excellence of character. In\\nthe New Testament, appeals are constantly", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0094.jp2"}, "95": {"fulltext": "THE BEST CAPITAL IS CHARACTER.\\n63\\nmade to the heart of man and to the spirit\\nwe are of, while allusions to the intellect are\\nof very rare occurrence. A handful of\\ngood life, says George Herbert, is worth a\\nbushel of learning. Not that learning is to\\nbe despised, but that it must be allied to good-\\nness. Intellectual capacity is sometimes\\nfound associated with the meanest moral\\ncharacter with abject servility to those in\\nhigh places, and arrogance to those of low\\nestate. A man may be accomplished in art,\\nliterature, and science, and yet, in honesty,\\nvirtue, truthfulness, and the spirit of duty, be\\nentitled to take rank after many a poor and\\nilliterate peasant.\\nA Great Merchant-Prince.\\nFor many years William E. Dodge was\\nperhaps the most successful merchant in\\nNew York City. He grew rich for the\\nreason that men knew there was never a flaw\\nin his word any more than in the iron and\\nsteel he sold. His success was not the thing\\nmost to be admired, but the character of the\\nman, which was always spoken of more than\\nhis wealth and large possessions. He gave\\naway hundreds of thousands of dollars he\\ngave something to the world of much greater\\nvalue an example, bright and pure as sun-\\nlight. There were no tricks about him.\\nMen of this description and our country\\nhas had thousands of them should be your\\nmodels. There is no short cut to success\\nif you attempt to go across lots you will get\\nswamped. By the noblest qualities of char-\\nacter you will succeed and in no other way.\\nSome men are too sharp and tricky ever to\\nhave any good luck or prosperity.\\nWhen some one, in Sir Walter Scott s\\nhearing, made a remark as to the value of\\nliterary talents and accomplishments, as if\\nthey were above all things to be esteemed\\nand honored, he observed, God help us I\\nwhat a poor world this would be if that were\\nthe true doctrine! I have read books\\nenough, and observed and conversed with\\nenough of eminent and splendidly-cultured\\nminds, too, in my time; but I assure you,\\nI have heard higher sentiments from the\\nlips of poor uneducated men and women,\\nwhen exerting the spirit of severe yet gentle\\nheroism under difficulties and afflictions, or\\nspeaking their simple thoughts as to circum-\\nstances in the lot of friends and neighbors,\\nthan I ever yet met with out of the Bible.\\nWe shall never learn to feel and respect our\\nreal calling and destiny, unless we have\\ntaught ourselves to consider everything as\\nmoonshine, compared with the education of\\nthe heart.\\nStill less has wealth any necessary connec-\\ntion with elevation of character. On the\\ncontrary, it is much more frequently the\\ncause of its corruption and degradation.\\nWealth and corruption, luxury and vice, have\\nvery close affinities to each other. Wealth\\nin the hands of men of weak purpose, of\\ndeficient self-control, or of ill-regulated pas-\\nsions, is only a temptation and a snare the\\nsource, it may be, of infinite mischief to them-\\nselves, and often to others.\\nAdvice of Robby Bioms s Father.\\nOn the contrary, a condition of compara-\\ntive poverty is compatible with character in.\\nits highest form. A man may possess only\\nhis industry, his frugality, his integrity, and\\nyet stand high in the rank of true manhood.\\nThe advice which Bums s father gave him\\nwas the best\\nHe bade me act a manly part, though I had ne er a\\nfarthing,\\nFor without an honest manly heart no man was\\nworth regarding.\\nWhen Luther died, he left behind him, as\\nset forth in his will, no ready money, no", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0095.jp2"}, "96": {"fulltext": "34\\nTHE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\ntreasure of coin of any description. He\\nwas so poor at one part of his life, that he\\nwas under the necessity of earning his bread\\nby turning, gardening, and clock-making.\\nYet, at the very time when he was thus\\nworking with his hands, he was moulding\\nthe character of his country; and he was\\nmorally stronger, and vastly more honored\\nand followed, than all the princes of\\nGermany.\\nCharacter is property. It is the noblest\\nof possessions. It is an estate in the general\\ngood-will and respect of men and they who\\ninvest in it though they may not become\\nrich in this world s goods will find their\\nreward in esteem and reputation fairly and\\nhonorably won. And it is right that in life\\ngood qualities should tell that industry,\\nvirtue, and goodness should rank the highest\\nand that the really best men should be\\nforemost.\\nBound to be Honest.\\nSimple honesty of purpose in a man goes\\na long way in life, if founded on a just\\nestimate of himself and a steady obedience to\\nthe rule he knows and feels to be right. It\\nholds a man straight, gives him strength and\\nsustenance, and forms a mainspring of vigor-\\nous action. No man, once said a well\\nknown author, is bound to be rich or great\\nno, nor to be wise but every man is bound\\nto be honest.\\nBut the purpose, besides being honest,\\nmust be inspired by sound principles, and\\npursued with undeviating adherence to truth,\\nintegrity, and uprightness. Without princi-\\nples, a man is like a ship without rudder or\\ncompass, left to drift hither and thither with\\nevery wind that blows. He is as one without\\nlaw, or rule, or order, or government.\\nMoral principles, says Hume, are social\\nand universal. They form, in a manner, the\\nparty of humankind against vice and dis-\\norder, its common enemy.\\nEpictetus once received a visit from a cer-\\ntain magnificent orator going to Rome on a\\nlawsuit, who wished to learn from the Stoic\\nsomething of his philosophy. Epictetus\\nreceived his visitor coolly, not believing in\\nhis sincerity. You will only criticise my\\nstyle, said he not really wishing to learn\\nprinciples. Well, but, said the orator,\\nif I attend to that sort of thing, I shall be a\\nmere pauper, like you, with no plate, nor\\nequipage, nor land. I don t \u00e2\u0096\u00a0wa7tt such\\nthings, replied Epictetus and besides, you\\nare poorer than I am, after all. Patron or\\nno patron, what care I You do care. I\\nam richer than you. don t care what\\nCaesar thinks of me. flatter no one. This\\nis what I have, instead of your gold and\\nsilver plate. You have silver vessels, but\\nearthenware reasons, principles, appetites.\\nMy mind to me a kingdom is, and it furnishes\\nme with abundant and happy occupation in\\nlieu of your restless idleness. All your pos-\\nsessions seem small to you mine seem great\\nto me. Your desire is insatiate mine is\\nsatisfied.\\nEpictetus lived more than eighteen hundred\\nyears ago, but there is one phrase in this\\nquotation that has been thought of and\\nrepeated ever since, and forms the subject of\\na remarkable poem which we insert here.\\nIt is full of good sense, and deserve.* to be\\nprinted and read the world over.\\nMy Mind to Me a Kingdom Is.\\nMy mind to me a kingdom is\\nSuch perfect joy therein I find\\nAs far exceeds all earthly bliss\\nThat God or nature hath assigned\\nThough much I want that most would have.\\nYet still my mind forbids to crave.\\nContent I live this is my stay\\nI seek no more than may suflBce.", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0096.jp2"}, "97": {"fulltext": "WORK MORN AND EVE AND THROUGH THE SULTRY NOON,\\nAND SONGS OF JOY WILL HAIL THE HARVEST MOON.\\n65", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0097.jp2"}, "98": {"fulltext": "6G\\nthp: influence of home.\\nI press to bear no haughty sway\\nLook, what I lack my mind supplies.\\nLo thus I triumph like a king,\\nContent with that my mind doth bring.\\nI see how plenty surfeits oft,\\nAnd hasty climbers soonest fall\\nI see that such as sit aloft\\nMishap doth threaten most of all.\\nThese get with toil, and keep with fear;\\nSuch cares my mind could never bear.\\nNo princely pomp nor wealthy store,\\nNo force to win the victory.\\nNo wily wit to salve a sore.\\nNo shape to win a lover s eye-\\nTo none of these I yield as thrall\\nFor why, my mind despiseth all.\\nSome have too much, yet still they crave\\nI little have, 3 et seek no more.\\nThey are but poor, though much they have\\nAnd I am rich with little store.\\nThey poor, I rich they beg, I give\\nThey lack, I lend they pine, I live.\\nI laugh not at another s loss,\\nI grudge not at another s gain\\nNo worldly wave my mind can toss;\\nI brook that is another s bane.\\nI fear no foe, nor fawn on friend\\nI loathe not life, nor dread mine end.\\nI wish but what I have at will\\nI wander not to seek for more;\\nI like the plain, I climb no hill\\nIn greatest storms I sit on shore,\\nAnd laugh at them that toil in vaia\\nTo get what must be lost again.\\nI kiss not where I wish to kill\\nI feign not love where most I hate;\\nI break no sleep to win my will\\nI wait not at the mighty s gate.\\nI scorn no poor, I fear no rich\\nI feel no want, nor have too much.\\nThe court nor cart I like nor loathe\\nExtremes are counted worst of all\\nThe golden mean betwixt them both\\nDoth surest suit, and fears no fall;\\nThis is :ny choice; for why, I find\\nNo wealth is like a quiet mind.\\nMy wealth is health and perfect ease\\nMj- conscience clear mj chief defence\\nI never seek by bribes to please,\\nNor by desert to give offence.\\nThus do I live, thus will I die\\nWould all did so as well as I\\nWii,r iAM Byrd.\\nTalent is by no means rare in the world\\nnor is even genius. But can the talent be\\ntrusted can the genius Not unless based\\non truthfulness on veracity. It is this\\nquality more than any other that commands\\nthe esteem and respect, and secures the con-\\nfidence of others. Truthfulness is at the\\nfoundation of all personal excellence. It\\nexhibits itself in conduct. It is rectitude\\ntruth in action, and shines through every\\nword and deed. It means reliableness, and\\nconvinces other men that it can be trusted.\\nAnd a man is already of consequence in the\\nworld when it is known that he can be relied\\non that when he says he knows a thing, he\\ndoes know it that when he says he will do\\na thing, he can do, and does it. Thus\\nreliableness becomes a passport to the gen-\\neral esteem and confidence of mankind.\\nGood Sense and Rectitude.\\nIn the affairs of life or of business, it is not\\nintellect that tells so much as character\\nnot brains so much as heart not genius so\\nmuch as self-control, patience, and discipline,\\nregulated by judgment. Hence there is no\\nbetter provision for the uses of either private\\nor public life, than a fair share of ordinary\\ngood sense guided by rectitude. Good sense,\\ndisciplined by experience and inspired by\\ngoodness, issues in practical wisdom. Indeed,\\ngoodness in a measure implies wisdom the\\nhighest wisdom the union of the worldly\\nwith the spiritual.\\nIt is because of this controlling power of\\ncharacter in life that we often see men exer-\\ncise an amount of influence apparently out\\nof all proportion to their intellectual endow-", "height": "3474", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0098.jp2"}, "99": {"fulltext": "THE BEST CAPITAL IS CHARACTER.\\n67\\nments. They appear to act by means of\\nsome latent power, some reserved force,\\nwhich acts secretly, by mere presence. As\\nBurke said of a powerful nobleman of the\\nlast century, his virtues were his means.\\nThe secret is, that the aims of such men are\\nfelt to be pure and noble, and they act upon\\nothers with a constraining power.\\nHow to Gain Respect.\\nThough the reputation of men of genuine\\ncharacter may be of slow growth, their true\\nqualities can not be wholly concealed. They\\nmay be misrepresented by some, and mis-\\nunderstood by others misfortune and adver-\\nsity may, for a time, overtake them but,\\nwith patience and endurance, they will eventu-\\nally inspire the respect and command the\\nconfidence which they really deserve.\\nIt has been said of Sheridan that, had he\\npossessed reliableness of character, he might\\nhave ruled the world whereas, for want of\\nit, his splendid gifts were comparatively use-\\nless. He dazzled and amused, but was\\nwithout weight or influence in life or politics.\\nEven the poor pantomimist of Drury Lane\\nfelt himself his superior. Thus, when Delpini\\none day pressed the manager for arrears of\\nsalary, Sheridan sharply reproved him, telling\\nhim he had forgotten his station. No,\\nindeed. Monsieur Sheridan, I have not,\\nretorted Delpini I know the difference\\nbetween us perfectly well. In birth, parent-\\nage, and education, you are superior to me\\nbut in life, character, and behavior, I am\\nsuperior to you.\\nUnlike Sheridan, Burke, his countryman,\\nwas a great man of character. He was\\nthirty-five before he gained a seat in Parlia-\\nment, yet he found time to carve his name\\ndeep in the political history of England.\\nHe was a man of great gifts, and of trans-\\ncendent force of character. Yet he had\\na weakness, which proved a serious defect\u00e2\u0080\u0094^\\nit was his want of temper his genius was\\nsacrificed to his irritability. And without\\nthis apparently minor gift of good temper, the\\nmost splendid endowments may be com-\\nparatively valueless to their possessor.\\nCharacter is formed by a variety of minute\\ncircumstances, more or less under the regu-\\nlation and control of the individual. Not a\\nday passes without its discipline, whether for\\ngood or for evil. There is no act, however\\ntrivial, but has its train of consequences, as\\nthere is no hair so small but casts its shadow.\\nIt was a wise saying of a gifted lady, never\\nto give way to what is little or by that little,\\nhowever you may despise it, you will be\\npractically governed.\\nThe Growth of Character.\\nEvery action, every thought, every feeling,\\ncontributes to the education of the temper,\\nthe habits, and understanding, and exercises\\nan inevitable influence upon all the acts of\\nour future life. Thus character is under-\\ngoing constant change, for beder or for\\nworse either being elevated on the one\\nhand, or degraded on the other. There is\\nno fault nor folly of my life, says Mr. Rus-\\nkin, that does not rise up against me, and\\ntake away my joy, and shorten my power of\\npossession, of sight, of understanding. And\\nevery past effort of my life, every gleam of\\nrightness or good in it, is with me now, to\\nhelp me.\\nThe mechanical law, that action and reac-\\ntion are equal, holds true also in morals.\\nGood deeds act and react on the doers of\\nthem and so do evil. Not only so they\\nproduce like effects, by the influence of\\nexample, on those who are the subjects of\\nthem. But man is not the creature, so much\\nas he is the creator, of circumstances and,\\nby the exercise of his free-will, he can direct", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0099.jp2"}, "100": {"fulltext": "C8\\nTHE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\nhis actions so that they shall be productive\\nof good rather than evil.\\nInstead of saying that man is the creature\\nof circumstance, it Avould be nearer the mark\\nto say that man is the architect of circum-\\ns::ances. It is character which builds an\\nexistence out of circumstance. Our strength\\ni-i measured by our plastic power. From the\\nsame materials one man builds palaces,\\nanother hovels one warehouses, another\\nvillas. Bricks and mortar are mortar and\\nbricks, until the architect can make them\\nsomething else. Thus it is that in the same\\nfamily, in the same circumstances, one man\\nrears a stately, edifice, while his brother,\\nvacillating and incompetent, lives forever\\namid ruins the block of granite which was\\nan obstacle on the pathway of the weak,\\nbecomes a stepping-stone on the pathway\\nof the strong.\\nSuccess Is Sure.\\nNothing can work me damage but\\nmyself, said St. Bernard the harm that\\nI sustain I carry about with me and I am\\nnever a real sufferer but by my own fault.\\nThe best sort of character, however, can\\nnot be formed without effort. There needs\\nthe exercise of constant self-watchfulness,\\nself-discipline, and self-control. There may\\nbe much faltering, stumbling, and temporary\\ndefeat difficulties and temptations manifold\\nto be battled with and overcome but if the\\nspirit be .strong and the heart be upright, no\\none need despair of ultimate success. The\\nvery effort to advance to arrive at a higher\\nstandard of character than we have reached\\nis inspiring and invigorating and even\\nthough we may fall short of it, we cannot\\nfail to be improved by every honest effort\\nmade in an upward direction.\\nAnd with the light of great examples to\\nguide u.s representatives of humanity in its\\nbest forms every one is not only justified,\\nbut bound in duty, to aim at reaching the\\nhighest standard of character not to become\\nthe richest in means, but in .spirit not the\\ngreatest in wordly position, but in true\\nhonor; not the most intellectual, but the\\nmost virtuous not the most powerful and\\ninfluential, but the most truthful, upright,\\nand honest.\\nThe Noblest Boy.\\nIt was very characteristic of the late prince\\nconsort husband of Queen Victoria a man\\nhimself of the purest mind, who powerfully\\nimpressed and influenced others by the sheer\\nforce of his own benevolent nature when\\ndrawing up the conditions of the annual\\nprize to be given at Wellington College, to\\ndetermine that it should be awarded, not to\\nthe cleverest boy, nor to the most bookish\\nboy, nor to the most precise, diligent, and\\nprudent boy, but to the noblest boy, to the\\nboy who should show the most promise of\\nbecoming a large-hearted, high-motived man.\\nCharacter exhibits itself in conduct, guided\\nand inspired by principle, integrity, and\\npractical wisdom. In its highest form, it is\\nthe individual will acting energetically under\\nthe influence of religion, morality, and reason.\\nIt chooses its way considerately, and pursues\\nit steadfastly esteeming duty above reputa-\\ntion, and the approval of conscience more\\nthan the world s praise. While respecting\\nthe personality of others, it preserves its own\\nindividuality and independence and has the\\ncourage to be morally honest, though it may\\nbe unpopular, trusting tranquilly to time and\\nexperience for recognition.\\nAlthough the force of example will always\\nexercise great influence upon the formation\\nof character, the self-originating and sustain-\\ning force of one s own spirit must be the\\nmain-stay. This alone can hold up the life,", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0100.jp2"}, "101": {"fulltext": "THE BEST CAPITAL IS CHARACTER.\\n6\\nand give individual independence and energy.\\nUnless man can erect himself above him-\\nself, said Daniel, a poet of the Elizabethan\\nera, how poor a thing is man Without\\na certain degree of practical efficient force\\ncompounded of will, which is the root, and\\nwisdom, which is the stem of character life\\nwill be indefinite and purposeless like a\\nbody of stagnant waler, instead of a running\\nstream doing useful work and keeping the\\nmachinery of a district in motion.\\nThe Force of Words and Deeds.\\nWhen the elements of character are brought\\ninto action by determinate will, and, influenced\\nby high purpose, man enters upon and cour-\\nageously perseveres in the path of duty, at\\nwhatever cost of worldly interest, he may be\\nsaid to approach the summit of his being.\\nHe then exhibits character in its most\\nintrepid form, and embodies the highest idea\\nof manliness. The acts of such a man\\nbecome repeated in the life and action of\\nothers. His very words live and become\\nactions. Thus every word of Luther s rang\\nthrough Germany like a trumpet. As\\nRichter said of him, His words were half-\\nbattles. And thus Luther s life became\\ntransfused into the life of his country,\\nand still lives in the character of modern\\nGermany.\\nOn the other hand, energy, without integ-\\nrity and a soul of goodness, may only repre-\\nsent the embodied principle of evil. Among\\nsuch men aie found the greatest scourges\\nand devastators of the world those unprin-\\npled scoundrels whom Providence, in its\\ninscrutable designs, permits to fulfill their\\nmission of destruction upon earth. Among\\nthese was Napoleon the Great, a man of\\nabounding energy, but destitute of principle.\\nHe had the lowest opinion of his fellow-men.\\nMen are hogs, who feed on gold, he once\\nsaid well, I throw them gold, and lead\\nthem withersoever I will.\\nVery different is the man of energetic\\ncharacter inspired by a noble spirit, whose\\nactions are governed by rectitude, and the\\nlaw of whose life is duty. He is just and\\nupright in his business dealings, in his\\npublic action, and in his family life: justice\\nbeing as essential in the government of a\\nhome as of a nation. He will be honest in\\nall things in his words and in his work.\\nHe will be generous and merciful to his\\nopponents, as well as to those who are\\nweaker than himself\\nCromwell s Ironsides.\\nThe man of character is conscientious,.\\nHe puts his conscience into his work, intO\\nhis words, into his every action. When\\nCromwell asked the Parliament for soldiers\\nin lieu of the decayed serving-men and\\ntapsters who filled the Commonwealth s\\narmy, he required that they should be men\\nwho made some conscience of what they\\ndid and such were the men of which his\\ncelebrated regiment of Ironsides was com-\\nposed.\\nThe man of character is also reverential.\\nThe possession of this quality marks the\\nnoblest and highest type of manhood and\\nwomanhood reverence for things conse-\\ncrated by the homage of generations for\\nhigh objects, pure thoughts, and noble aims\\nfor the great men of former times, and the\\nhigh-minded workers among our contempo-\\nraries. Reverence is alike indispensable to\\nthe happiness of individuals, of families, and\\nof nations. Without it there can be no\\ntrust, no faith, no confidence, either in man\\nor God neither social peace nor social pro-\\ngress. For reverence is but another word\\nfor religion, which binds men to each other,\\nand all to God.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0101.jp2"}, "102": {"fulltext": "70\\nTHE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\nThe man of noble spirit converts all occur-\\nrences into experience, between which experi-\\nence and his reason there is marriage, and\\nthe issue are his actions. He moves by\\naffection, not for affection; he loves glory,\\nscorns shame, and governeth and obeyeth\\nwith one countenance, for it comes from one\\nconsideration. Knowing reason to be no idle\\ngift of nature, he is the steersman of his own\\ndestiny. Truth is his goddess, and he takes\\npains to get her, not to look hke her. Unto\\nthe society of men he is a sun, whose clear-\\nness directs their steps in a regular motion.\\nHe is the wise man s friend, the example of\\nthe indifferent, the medicine of the vicious.\\nThe Strong Make their own Path.\\nEnergy of will self-originating force is\\nthe soul of every great character. Where\\nit is, there is life; where it is not, there is\\nfaintness, helplessness, and despondency.\\nThe strong man and the waterfall, says\\nthe proverb, channel their own path.\\nThe energetic leader of noble spirit not only\\nwins a way for himself, but carries others\\nwith him. His every act has a personal sig-\\nnificance, indicating vigor, independence, and\\nself-reliance, and unconsciously commands\\nrespect, admiration, and homage. Such\\nintrepidity of character characterized Luther,\\nCromwell, Washington, Henry Clay, Andrew\\nJackson, Pitt, Wellington, and all great lead-\\ners of men.\\nI am convinced, said Mr. Gladstone, in\\ndescribing the qualities of Lord Palmerston\\nin the House of Commons, shortly after his\\ndeath I am convinced that it was the\\nforce of will, a sense of duty, and a deter-\\nmination not to give in, that enabled him to\\nmake himself a model for all of us who yet\\nremain and follow him, with feeble and\\nunequal steps, in the discharge of our duties\\nit was that force of will that in point of fact\\ndid not so much struggle against the infirmi-\\nties of old age, but actually repelled them and\\nkept them at a distance.\\nAnd one other quality there is, at least,\\nthat may be noticed without the smallest risk\\nof stirring in any breast a painful emotion.\\nIt is this, that Lord Palmerston had a nature\\nincapable of enduring anger or any sentiment\\nof wrath. This freedom from wrathful senti-\\nment was not the result of painful effort, but\\nthe spontaneous fruit of the mind. It was a\\nnoble gift of his original nature a gift which\\nbeyond all others it was delightful to observe,\\ndelightful also to remember in connection\\nwith him who has left us, and with whom we\\nhave no longer to do, except in endeavoring\\nto profit by his example wherever it can lead\\nus in the path of duty and of right, and of\\nbestowing on him those tributes of admira-\\ntion and affection which he deserves at our\\nhands.\\nThe Fair Boy.\\nThere is a contagiousness in every example\\nof energetic conduct. The brave man is an\\ninspiration to the weak, and compels them,\\nas it were, to follow him. Thus Napier\\nrelates that at the combat of Vera, when the\\nSpanish centre was broken and in flight, a\\nyoung officer, named Havelock, sprang for-\\nward, and, waving his hat, called upon the\\nSpainards within sight to follow him. Put-\\nting spurs to his horse, he leaped the abattis\\nwhich protected the French front, and went\\nheadlong against them. The Spainards were\\nelectrified; in a moment they dashed after\\nhim, cheering for El chico bianco T (the\\nfair boy), and with one shock they broke\\nthrough the French and sent them flying\\ndownhill.\\nNapier mentions another striking illustra-\\ntion of the influence of personal qualities in\\nyoung Edward Freer, of the same regiment,", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0102.jp2"}, "103": {"fulltext": "THE BEST CAPITAL IS CHARACTER.\\n71\\nwho, when he fell at the age of nineteen, at\\nthe battle of the Nivelle, had already seen\\nmore combats and seiges than he could count\\nyears. So slight in person, and of such\\nsurpassing beauty, that the Spainards often\\nthought him a girl disguised in man s cloth-\\ning, he was yet so vigorous, so active, so\\nbrave, that the most daring and experienced\\nveterans watched his looks on the field of\\nbattle, and, implicitly following where he\\nled, would, like children, obey his slightest\\nsign in the most difficult situations.\\nW^ashington s Personal Influence.\\nAnd so it is in ordinary life. The good\\nand the great draw others after them they\\nlighten and lift up all who are within reach\\nof their influence. They are as so many\\nliving centres of beneficent activity. Let\\na man of energetic and upright character be\\nappointed to a position of trust and authority,\\nand all who serve under him become, as it\\nwere, conscious of an increase of power.\\nWhen Chatham was appointed minister, his\\npersonal influence was at once felt through\\nall the ramifications of office. Every sailor\\n-who served under Nelson, and knew he was\\nin command, shared the inspiration of the\\nhero.\\nWhen Washington consented to act as\\ncommander-in-chief, it was felt as if the\\nstrength of the American forces had been\\nmore than doubled. Many years later, in\\n1798, when Washington, grown old, had\\nwithdrawn from public life and was living in\\nretirement at Mount Vernon, and when it\\nseemed probable that France would declare\\nwar against the United States, President\\nAdams wrote to him, saying, We must\\nhave your name, if you will permit us to use\\nit there will be more efficacy in it than in\\nmany an army. Such was the esteem in\\nwhich the great President s noble character-\\nand eminent abilities were held by his\\ncountrymen\\nAn incident is related by the historian of\\nthe Peninsular War, illustrative of the per-\\nsonal influence exercised by a great com-\\nmander over his followers. The British army\\nlay at Sauroren, before which Soult was\\nadvancing, prepared to attack in force. Wel-\\nlington was absent, and his arrival was\\nanxiously looked for. Suddenly a single\\nhorseman was seen riding up the mountain\\nalone. It was the duke, about to join his\\ntroops. One of Campbell s Portuguese bat-\\ntalions first descried him, and raised a joyful\\ncry; then the shrill clamor, caught up by\\nthe next regiment, soon swelled as it ran\\nalong the fine into that appalling shout which\\nthe British soldier is wont to give upon the\\nedge of battle, and which no enemy ever\\nheard unmoved.\\nOne Man may be a Host.\\nSuddenly he stopped at a conspicuous\\npoint, for he desired both armies should know\\nhe was there, and a double spy who was\\npresent pointed out Soult, who was so near\\nthat his features could be distinguished.\\nAttentively Wellington fixed his eyes on that\\nformidable man, and, as if speaking to him-\\nself, he said Yonder is a great commander\\nbut he is cautious, and will delay his attack\\nto ascertain the cause of those cheers that\\nwill give time for the Sixth Divison to arrive,\\nand I shall beat him which he did.\\nIn some cases, personal character acts by\\na kind of talismanic influence, as if certain\\nmen were the organs of a sort of supernatural\\nforce. If I but stamp on the ground in\\nItaly, said Pompey, an army will appear.\\nAt the voice of Peter the Hermit, as described\\nby the historian, Europe arose, and pre-\\ncipitated itself upon Asia. It was said of\\nthe Caliph Omar that his walking-stick struck", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0103.jp2"}, "104": {"fulltext": "THE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\nmore terror into those who saw it than\\nanother man s sword.\\nThe very names of some men are Hke the\\nsound of a trumpet. When the Douglas lay\\nmortally wounded on the field of Otterburn,\\nhe ordered his name to be shouted still\\nlouder than before, saying there was a tradi-\\ntion in his family that a dead Douglas should\\nwin a battle. His followers, inspired by the\\nsound, gathered fresh courage, rallied, and\\nconquered and thus, in the words of the\\nScottish poet\\nThe Douglas dead, his name hath won the field.\\nThere have been some men whose greatest\\nconquests have been achieved after they them-\\nselves were dead. Never, says Michelet,\\nwas Caesar more alive, more powerful,\\nmore terrible, than when his old and worn-out\\nbody, his withered corpse, lay pierced with\\nblows he appeared then purified, redeemec:\\nthat which he had been, despite his many\\nstains the man of humanity.\\nBeing Dead, they yet Sp .ak.\\nThe same illustration applies to all history\\nand morals. The career of a great man\\nremains an enduring monument of human\\nenergy. The man dies and disappears; but\\nhis thoughts and acts survive, and leave an\\nindelible stamp upon his race. And thus\\nthe spirit of his life is prolonged and per-\\npetuated, moulding the thought and will,\\nand thereby contributing to form the charac-\\nter of the future. It is the men that advance\\nin the highest and best directions who are\\nthe true beacons of human progress. They\\nare as lights set upon a hill, illumining the\\nmoral atmosphere around them; and the\\nlight of their .spirit continues to shine upon\\nall succeeding generations.\\nIt is natural to admire and revere really\\ngreat men. They hallow the nation to which\\nthey belong, and lift up not only all who live\\nin their time, but those who live after them.\\nTheir great example becomes the common\\nheritage of their race; and their great deeds\\nand great thoughts are the most glorious of\\nlegacies to mankind. They connect the\\npresent with the past, and help on the in-\\ncreasing purpose of the future; holdin^,^ aloft\\nthe standard of principle, maintaining the\\ndignity of human character, and filling the\\nmind with traditions and instincts of all that\\nis most worthy and noble in life.\\nDemand for Men.\\nThe world wants men large-hearted, manly men\\nMen who shall join its chorus, and prolong\\nThe psalm of labor, and the psalm of love.\\nThe times want scholars scholars who shall shape\\nThe doubtful destinies of dubious years.\\nAnd land the ark, that bears our countr3 s good.\\nSafe on some peaceful Ararat at last.\\nThe age wants heroes heroes who shall dare\\nTo struggle in the solid ranks of truth\\nTo clutch the monster error by the throat\\nTo bear opinion to a loftier seat\\nTo blot the era of oppression out.\\nAnd lead a universal freedom in.\\nAnd heaven wants souls fresh and capacious souls;\\nTo taste its raptures, and expand, like flowers,\\nBeneath the glory of its central sun.\\nIt wants fresh souls not lean and shrivelled ones;\\nIt wants fresh souls, my brother give it thine.\\nIf thou indeed wilt be what scholar should.\\nIf thou wilt be a hero, and wilt strive\\nTo help thy fellow and exalt thyself,\\nThy feet, at last, shall stand on jasper floors\\nThy heart, at last, shall seem a thousand hearts\\nEach single heart with myriad raptures filled\\nWhile thou shalt sit with princes and with kings,\\nRich in the jewel of a ransomed soul.\\nCharacter embodied in thought and deed,\\nis of the nature of immortality. The soli-\\ntary thought of a great thinker will dwell in\\nthe minds of men for centuries, until at length\\nit works itself into their daily life and prac-\\ntice. It lives on through the ages, speaking\\nas a voice from the dead, and influencing\\nminds living thousands of years apart", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0104.jp2"}, "105": {"fulltext": "THE BEST CAPITAL IS CHARACTER.\\nThus, Moses and David and Solomon, Plato\\nand Socrates and Xenophon, Seneca and\\nCicero and Epictetus, still speak to us as\\nfrom their tomhs.\\nThe Arrow and the Song.\\nI shot an arrow into the air,\\nIt fell to earth, I knew not where\\nFor, so swiftly it flew, the sight\\nCould not follow it in its flight.\\nI breathed a song into the air.\\nIt fell to earth, I knew not where\\nFor who has sight so keen and strong,\\nThat it can follow the flight of song\\nIvong, long afterward, in an oak\\nI found the arrow, still unbroke\\nAnd the song, from beginning to end,\\nI found again in the heart of a friend.\\nHenry Wadsworth Longfei i,ow.\\nA succession of variously gifted men in\\ndifferent ages extending from Alfred to\\nAlbert has in like manner contributed, by\\ntheir life and example, to shape the multiform\\ncharacter of England. Of these, probably\\nthe most influential were the men of the\\nElizabethan and Cromwellian, and the inter-\\nmediate periods among whom we find the\\ngreat names of Shakespeare, Raleigh, Bur-\\nleigh, Sidney, Bacon, Milton, Herbert, Hamp-\\nden, Pym, EHot, Vane, Cromwell, and many\\nmore some of them men of great force, and\\nothers of great dignity and purity of char-\\nacter. The lives of such men have become\\npart of the public life of the world, and their\\ndeeds and thoughts are regarded as among\\nthe most cherished bequeathments from the\\n.past.\\nSo Washington left behind him, as one of\\nthe greatest treasures of our country, the\\nexample of a stainless life of a great,\\nhonest, pure, and noble character a model\\nfor the nation to form itself by in all time\\nto come. And in the case of Washington,\\nas in so many other great leaders of men, his\\ngreatness did not so m^ich consist in his\\nintellect, his skill, and his genius, as in h\\nhonor, his integrity, his truthfulness, his high\\nand controlling sense of duty in a word, in\\nhis genuine nobility of character.\\nWhile statesmen, philosophers, and divines\\nrepresent the thinking power of society, the\\nmen who found industries and carve out new\\ncareers, as well as the common body of\\nworking-people, from whom the national\\nstrength and spirit are from time to time\\nrecruited, must necessarily furnish the vital\\nforce and constitute the real backbone of\\nevery nation.\\nDollars and Calico.\\nNations have their character to maintain\\nas well as individuals and under con-\\nstitutional governments where all classes\\nmore or less participate in the exercise of\\npolitical power the national character will\\nnecessarily depend more upon the moral quali-\\nties of the many than of the few. And the\\nsame quahties which determine the character\\nof individuals also determine the character of\\nnations. Unless they are high-minded,- truth-\\nful, honest, virtuous, and ourageous, they\\nwill be held in light esteem by other nations,\\nand be without weight in the world. To\\nhave character, they must needs also be\\nreverential, disciplined, self-controlling, and\\ndevoted to duty. The nation that has no\\nhigher god than pleasure, or even dollars o\\ncalico, must needs be in a poor way. It\\nwere better to revert to Homer s gods than\\nbe devoted to these for the heathen deities\\nat least imaged human virtues, and were\\nsomething to look up to.\\nAs for institutions, however good in them-\\nselves, they will avail but little in maintaining\\nthe standard of national character. It is the\\nindividual men, and the spirit which actuates\\nthem, that determine the moral standing and", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0105.jp2"}, "106": {"fulltext": "74\\nTHE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\nstability of nations. Government, in the\\nlong run, is usually no better than the people\\ngoverned. Where the mass is sound in con-\\nscience, morals, and habit, the nation will be\\nruled honestly and nobly. But where they\\nare corrupt, self-seeking, and dishonest in\\nheart, bound neither by truth nor by law, the\\nrule of rogues and wire-pullers becomes\\ninevitable.\\nThe best start in life, therefore, is a good\\ncharacter one that has the true ring in it,\\nthat doesn t sound like a counterfeit dollar,\\nthat is made of good, solid metal through-\\nout a character that is not short in measure\\nor weight, that weighs sixteen ounces to\\nthe pound every time it is put into the\\nscales.\\nThere is an old poem that teaches a good\\nlesson, and it is appropriate for ending this\\nchapter.\\nWEIGHING CHARACTER.\\nA monk, when his rites sacerdotal were o er.\\nIn the depths of his cell with his stone-covered floor.\\nResigning to thought his chimerical brain.\\nOnce formed the contrivance we now shall explain\\nBut whether by magic or alchemy s powers\\nWe know not indeed, tis no business of ours.\\nPerhaps it was only by patience and care,\\nAt last, that he brought his invention to bear.\\nIn youth twas projected, but years stole away.\\nAnd ere twas complete he was wrinkled and gray\\nBut success is secure, nless energy fails\\nAnd at length he produced the philosopher s scales.\\nWhat were they? you ask. You shall presently\\nsee;\\nThese scales were not made to weigh sugar and tea.\\nOh no for such properties wondrous had they.\\nThat qualities, feelings, and thoughts they could\\nweigh.\\nTogether with articles small or immense,\\nFrom mountains or planets to atoms of sense.\\nNaught was there so bulky but there it would lay.\\nAnd naught so ethereal but there it would stay.\\nAnd naught so reluctant but in it must go\\nAll which some examples more clearly will show.\\nThe first thing he weighed was the head of Voltaire,\\nWhich retained all the wit that had ever been there.\\nAs a weight, he threw in a torn scrap of a leaf.\\nContaining the prayer of the penitent thief,\\nWhen the skull rose aloft with so sudden a spell\\nThat it bounced like a ball on the roof of the cell.\\nOne time he put in Alexander the Great,\\nWith the garments that Dorcas had made for a\\nweight\\nAnd though clad in armor from sandals to crown,\\nThe liero rose up, and the garments went down.\\nA long row of almshouses, amply endowed\\nBy a well-esteemed Pharisee, busy and proud,\\nNext loaded one scale while the other was pressed\\nBy those mites the poor widow dropped into the\\nchest\\nUp flew the endowment, not weighing an ounce.\\nAnd down, down the farthing-worth came with a\\nbounce.\\nBy further experiments (no matter how)\\nHe found that ten chariots weighed less than one\\nplough\\nA sword with gilt trappings rose up in the scale,\\nThough balanced by only a ten-penny nail\\nA shield and a helmet, a buckler and spear,\\nWeighed less than a widow s uncrystallized tear.\\nA iord and a lady went up at full sail,\\nWhen a bee chanced to light on the opposite scale\\nTen doctors, ten lawyers, two courtiers, one earl,\\nTen counsellors wigs full of powder and curl.\\nAll heaped in one balance and swinging from thence,\\nWeighed less than a few grains of candor and sense\\nA first-water diamond, with brilliants begirt.\\nThan one good potato just washed from the dirt\\nYet not mountains of silver and gold could suffice\\nOne pearl to outweigh twas the pearl of great price.\\nLast of all the whole world was bowled in at the grat^\\nWith the soul of a beggar to serve for a weight,\\nWhen the former sprang up with so strong a rebuff\\nThat it made a vast rent and escaped at the roof\\nWhen balanced in air, it ascended on high.\\nAnd sailed up aloft, a balloon in the sky\\nWhile the scale with the soul in t so mightily fell\\nThat it jerked the philosopher out of his cell.\\nJane Tayi,or.", "height": "3470", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0106.jp2"}, "107": {"fulltext": "CHAPTER IV.\\nMAKE THE BEST OF YOURSELF.\\nFATHER, writing to a son who\\nhad been sent to school in\\nPhiladelphia, said, You must\\nmake your position in life by\\nfirst making yourself. If you\\nmake something good of your-\\nself you will occupy a station of honor and\\nusefulness. If you are a failure, your life\\nwill be. This advice was worthy of Ben\\nFranklin himself, and such as he would have\\ngiven to the young. To make something\\ngood and noble of yourself is the best start\\nin life you can have, and, in fact, the only\\nstart you need.\\nThe best part of every man s education,\\nsaid Sir Waiter Scott, is that which he gives\\nto himself. Every person, says Gibbon,\\nhas two educations, one which he receives\\nfrom others, and one, more important, which\\nhe gives to himself\\nBenjamin Brodie, the eminent surgeon,\\nused to congratulate himself on the fact that\\nprofessionally he was self-taught. But this\\nis necessarily the case with all men who have\\nacquired distinction in letters, science or art.\\nThe education received at school or college\\nis but a beginning, and is valuable mainly\\ninasmuch as it trains the mind and habituates\\nit to continuous application and study. That\\nwhich is put into us by others is always far\\nless ours than that which we acquire by our\\nown dihgent and persevering effort. Knowl-\\nedge conquered by labor becomes a pos-\\nsession a property entirely our own.\\nThis kind of self-culture also calls forth\\n.power and cultivates strength. The solution\\nof one problem helps the mastery of another\\nand thus knowledge is carried into faculty.\\nOur own active effort is the essential thing\\nand no faculties, no books, no teachers, no\\namount of lessons learned by rote will enable\\nus to dispense with it.\\nAnd no boy or girl is so deficient in\\nmental power or acuteness as to render the\\ntask of self-improvement hopeless. By acting\\nupon good teachings and models in the\\nhome, and by diligence and patient labor,\\neven unpromising soil can be cultivated and\\nmade fruitful. Parents should never abandon\\na child to itself, nor discourage any endeavor\\nto rise in the world. It has often proved to\\nbe the case that those who gave little promise\\nin their early days happily disappointed their\\nfriends afterwards, and showed that they\\nwere capable of good things. It was only\\nneedful to wake up their slumbering powers\\nand rightly direct them.\\nSomething Good in Every One.\\nThe heart has tendrils like the vine.\\nWhich round another s bosom twine,\\nOutspringing from the living tree\\nOf deeply planted sympathy\\nWhose flowers are hope, its fruits are bliss,\\nBeneficence its harvest is.\\nThere are some bosoms dark and drear.\\nWhich an unwatered desert are\\nYet there a curious eye may trace\\nSome smiling spot, some verdant place.\\nWhere little flowers, the weeds between,\\nSpend their soft fragrance all unseen.\\nDespise them not for wisdom s toil\\nHas ne er disturbed that stubborn soil\\n75", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0107.jp2"}, "108": {"fulltext": "MAKE THE BEST OF YOURSELF.\\n76", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0108.jp2"}, "109": {"fulltext": "THE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\n77\\nYet care and culture might have brought\\nThe ore of truth from mines of thought\\nAnd fancy s fairest flowers had bloomed\\nWhere truth and fancy lie intombed.\\nInsult him not his blackest crime\\nMay, in his Maker s eye sublime.\\nIn spite of all thy pride, be less\\nThan e en thy daily waywardness\\nThan many a sin and many a stain\\nForgotten and impressed again.\\nThere is in ever}- human heart\\nSome not completely barren part,\\nWhere seeds of truth and love might grow\\nAnd flowers of generous virtue blow\\nTo plant, to watch, to water there\\nThis, as our duty, be our care\\nAnd sweet it is, the growth to trace,\\nOf worth, of intellect, of grace.\\nIn bosoms where our labors first\\nBid the young seed of spring-time burst.\\nAnd lead it on from hour to hour,\\nTo ripen into perfect power.\\nJohn- Bowiong.\\nImportance of Self-Culture.\\nThe best teachers have been the readiest\\nto recognize the importance of self-culture,\\nand of stimulating the student to acquire\\nknowledge by the active exercise of his own\\nfaculties. They have relied more upon\\ntraining than upon telling, and sought to\\nmake their pupils themselves active parties to\\nthe work in which they were engaged thus\\nmaking teaching something far higher than\\nthe mere passive reception of the scraps and\\ndetails of knowledge.\\nThis was the spirit in which the great Dr.\\nArnold worked he strove to teach his\\npupils to rely upon themselves, and develop\\ntheir powers by their own active efforts, him-\\nself merely guiding, directing, stimulating\\nand encouraging them. I would far rather,\\nhe said, send a boy to Van Diemen s Land,\\nwhere he must work for his bread, than send\\nhim to Oxford to live in luxury, without any\\ndesire in his mind to avail himself of his\\nadvantages. If there be one thing on\\nearth, he observes on another occasion,\\nwhich is truly admirable, it is to see God s\\nwisdom blessing an inferiority of natural\\npowers, when they have been honestly, truly\\nand zealously cultivated. Speaking of a\\npupil of this character, he said, I would\\nstand to that man hat in hand.\\nBenefits of Laboro\\nPractical success in life depends more upon\\nphysical health than is generally imagined.\\nAn English officer, writing home to a friend,\\nsaid, I believe if I get on well in India, it\\nwill be owing, physically speaking, to a sound\\ndigestion. The capacity for continuou. 5\\nworking in any calling must necessarily\\ndepend in a great measure upon this and\\nhence the necessity for attending to health,\\neven as a means of intellectual labor. It is\\nperhaps to the neglect of physical exercise\\nthat we find among students so frequent\\na tendency toward discontent, unhappiness,\\ninaction and reverie displaying itself in con-\\ntempt for real life and disgust at the beaten\\ntracks of men a tendency which in England\\nhas been called ^lyronism, and in Germany\\nWertherism. .^r. Channing, of Boston,\\nnoted the same growth, which led him to\\nmake the remark, that too many of our\\nyoung men grow up in a school of despair.\\nThe only remedy for this green-sickness in\\nyouth is physical exercise action, work and\\nbodily occupation.\\nThe great divine, Jeremy Taylor, says,\\nAvoid idleness and fill up all the spaces of\\nthy time with severe and useful employment;\\nfor lust easily creeps in at those emptinesses\\nwhere the soul is unemployed and the body\\nis at ease for no easy, healthful, idle person\\nwas ever chaste, if he could be tempted but\\nof all employments bodily labor is the most\\nuseful, and of the greatest benefit for driving\\naway the devil.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0109.jp2"}, "110": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3481", "width": "2053", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0110.jp2"}, "111": {"fulltext": "THE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\n79\\nThe use oi early labor in self-imposed\\nmechanical employments may be illustrated\\nby the boyhood of Sir Isaac Newton.\\nThough comparatively a dull scholar, he was\\nvery assiduous in the use of his saw, hammer\\nand hatchet knocking and hammering in\\nhis lodging room making models of wind-\\nmills, carriages and machines of all sorts\\nand as he grew older, he took delight in\\nmaking little tables and cupboards for his\\nfriends. Smeaton, the eminent engineer.\\nWatt, the discoverer of the steam engine in\\nits present form, and Stephenson, the famous\\nbuilder of light-houses, were equally handy\\nwith tools when mere boys and but for such\\nkind of self-culture in their youth, it is doubt-\\nful whether they would have accomplished\\nso much in their manhood. Such was also\\nthe early training of the great inventors and\\nmechanics whose contrivance and intelligence\\nwere practically trained by the constant use\\nof their hands in early life.\\nValue of Early Training,\\nThomas Edison, whose discoveries in\\nelectricity have given him world-wide fame,\\nshowed in youth a passionate fondness for\\nscience and an industry no less great. He\\nwas always playing with lightning. If he\\nhad been indolent, a do-nothing, instead of a\\nhard worker, the world would never have\\nheard from him.\\nEven where men belonging to the manual\\nlabor class have risen above it, and become\\nmore purely intellectual laborers, they have\\nfound the advantages of their early training\\nin their later pursuits. Elihu Burritt says\\nhe found hard labor necessary to enable him\\nto study with effect; and more than once he\\ngave up school-teaching and study, and\\ntaking to his leather apron again, went back\\nto his blacksmith s forge and anvil for his\\nhealth of body and mind s sake.\\nThe training of young men in the use of\\ntools would, at the same time that it edu-\\ncated them in common things, teach them\\nthe use of their hands and arms, familiarize\\nthem with healthy work, exercise their facul-\\nties upon things tangible and actual, give\\nthem some practical acquaintance with me-\\nchanics, impart to them the ability of being\\nuseful, and implant in them the habit of\\npersevering physical effort.\\n^A^lat a Great Preacher Said.\\nThe success of even professional men\\ndepends in no slight degree on their physical\\nhealth and a public writer has gone so far\\nas to say that the greatness of our great\\nmen is quite as much a bodily affair as a\\nmental one. One of America s greatest\\npreachers was accustomed to say he was as\\nmuch indebted for success to what was\\nbelow his neck as to what was above it.\\nHe meant that a strong, sound body was\\nsomething he could not dispense with, and\\nthis had been in large part the secret of his\\nachievements. A healthy breathing appa-\\nratus is as indispensable to the successful\\nlawyer or politician as a well-cultured intel-\\nlect. The thorough aeration of the blood\\nby free exposure to a large breathing surface\\nin the lungs, is necessary to maintain that\\nfull vital power on which the vigorous work-\\ning of the brain in so large a measure de-\\npends.\\nThough Sir Walter Scott, when at Edin-\\nburgh College, went by the name of The\\nGreek Blockhead, he was, notwithstanding\\nhis lameness, a remarkably healthy youth\\nhe could spear a salmon with the best fisher\\non the Tweed, and ride a wild horse with any\\nhunter in Yarrow. When devoting himself\\nin after life to literary pursuits. Sir Walter\\nnever lost his taste for field sports; but while\\nwriting Waverley in the morning, he", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0111.jp2"}, "112": {"fulltext": "MAKE THE BEST OF YOURSELF.\\nwould in the afternoon course hares. Pro-\\nfessor Wilson was a very athlete, as great at\\nthrowing the hammer as in his flight of\\neloquence and poetry; and Burns, when a\\nyouth, was remarkable chiefly for his leaping\\nand wrestling.\\nPhysical Energy.\\nSome of the greatest divines were distin-\\nguished in their youth for their physical\\nenergies. Isaac Barrow, when at the Charter-\\nhouse School, was notorious for his pugilistic\\nencounters, in which he got many a bloody\\nnose Andrew Fuller, when working as a\\nfarmer s lad at Soham, was chiefly famous\\nfor his skill in boxing; and Adam Clarke,\\nwhen a boy, was only remarkable for the\\nstrength displayed by him in rolling large\\nstones about the secret, possibly, of some\\nof the power which he subsequently dis-\\nplayed in rolling forth large thoughts in his\\nmanhood.\\nBishop Phillips Brooks was a man of\\nimmense physique and strength. It is\\nrelated of him that when traveling in Europe\\nwith two good-sized trunks, if he had any\\ndifficulty in procuring a cabman to transport\\nhim and his baggage a half mile or mile, he\\ntook a trunk in each hand and walked away\\nas if carrying only a couple of hand-bags.\\nThe strength of his thoughts was propor-\\ntioned to the strength of his body.\\nThe lawyer in full practice, and the Con-\\ngressional leader in full work, are called\\nupon to display powers of physical endur-\\nance and activity even more extraordinary\\nthan those of the intellect such powers as\\nwere exhibited in so remarkable a degree by\\nWebster, John C. Calhoun and William\\nWirt, of Virginia.\\nIt is astonishing how much may be\\naccomplished in self-culture by the energetic\\nand the persevering, who are careful to avail\\nthemselves of opportunities, and use up the\\nfragments of spare time which the idle per-\\nmit to run to waste. Thus Ferguson learned\\nastronomy from the heavens while wrapped\\nin a sheep-skin on the highland hills. Thus\\nStone learned mathematics while working as\\na journeyman gardener; thus Drew studied\\nthe highest philosophy in the intervals of\\nmending shoes; thus Hugh Miller taught\\nhimself geology while working as a da}\\nlaborer in a quarry; and thus Dr. Edward\\nHitchcock, President of Amherst College,\\nMass., won his fame in science while tramp-\\ning over fields and climbing mountains in\\npursuit of health. His vast stores of in-\\nformation and his brilliant discoveries were\\nequalled only by his lofty character, of\\nwhich humility and a devout spirit were the\\nmost conspicuous traits.\\nThe Success of Drudgery.\\nSir Joshua Reynolds, the renowned painter,\\nas we have already observed, was so earnest\\na believer in the force of industry, that he\\nheld that all men might achieve excellence\\nif they would but exercise the power of\\nassiduous and patient working. He held\\nthat drudgery lay on the road to genius, and\\nthat there was no limit to the proficiency of an\\nartist except the limit of his own painstaking.\\nHe would not believe in what is called inspi-\\nration, but only in study and labor. Excel-\\nlence, he said, is never granted to man but\\nas the reward of labor. If you have great\\ntalents, industry will improve them if you\\nhave but moderate abilities, industry will\\nsupply the deficiency. Nothing is denied to\\nwell-directed labor nothing is to be obtained\\nwithout it. Sir Fowell Buxton- was an\\nequal believer in the power of study and he\\nentertained the modest idea that he could do\\nas well as other men if he devoted to the\\npursuit double the time and labor that they", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0112.jp2"}, "113": {"fulltext": "THE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\n81\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0did. He placed his great confidence in\\nordinary means and extraordinary applica-\\ntion.\\nI have known several men in my life,\\nsays a close observer, who may be recog-\\nnized in days to come as men of genius, and\\nthey were all plodders, hard-working, intent\\nmen. Genius is known by its works genius\\nwithout works is a blind faith, a dumb oracle.\\nBut meritorious works are the result of time\\njind labor, and cannot be accomplished by\\nintention or by a wish. Every great work\\nis the result of vast preparatory training.\\nFacility comes by labor. Nothing seems\\n-easy, not even walking, that was not difficult\\nat first. The orator whose eye flashes\\ninstantaneous fire, and whose lips pour out\\na flood of noble thoughts, startling by their\\nunexpectedness and elevating by their wisdom\\n.and truth, has learned his secret by patient\\nrepetition, and after many bitter disappoint-\\nments.\\nThe Power of Application.\\nThoroughness and accuracy are two prin-\\ncipal points to be aimed at in study. Francis\\nHorner, in laying down rules for the cultiva-\\ntion of his mind, placed great stress upon the\\nhabit of continuous application to one subject\\nfor the sake of mastering it thoroughly he\\nconfined himself with this object to only a\\nfew books, and resisted with the greatest\\nfirmness every approach to a habit of desul-\\ntory reading. The value of knowledge to\\nany man consists not in its quantity, but\\nmainly in the good uses to which he can\\napply it. Hence a little knowledge of an\\nexact and perfect character is always found\\nmore valuable for practical purposes than any\\nextent of superficial learning.\\nBy .spreading our efforts over too large a\\nsurface we inevitably weaken our force,\\nhinder our progress, and acquire a habit of\\nfitfulness and ineffective working. Lord St.\\nLeonards once communicated to Sir Fowell\\nBuxton the mode in which he had conducted\\nhis studies, and thus explained the secret of\\nhis success: I resolved, said he, when\\nbeginning to read law, to make everything I\\nacquired perfectly my own, and never to go\\nto a second thing till I had entirely accom-\\nplished the first. Many of my competitors\\nread as much in a day as I read in a week;\\nbut, at the end of twelve months, my know-\\nledge was as fresh as the day it was acquired,\\nwhile theirs had glided away from recol-\\nlection.\\nHave a Definite Aim.\\nIt is not the quantity of study that one\\ngets through, or the amount of reading, that\\nmakes a wise man but the advantage of the\\nstudy to the purpose for which it is pursued;\\nthe concentration of the mind, for the time\\nbeing, on the subject under consideration\\nand the habitual discipline by which the\\nwhole system of mental application is regu-\\nlated. Abernethy was even of opinion that\\nthere was a point of fulness in his own mind,\\nand that if he took into it something more\\nthan it could hold, it only had the effect of\\npushing something else out. Speaking of\\nthe study of medicine, he said: If a man\\nhas a clear idea of what he desires to do, he\\nwill seldom fail in selecting the proper means\\nof accomplishing it.\\nThe most profitable study is that which is\\nconducted with a definite aim and object.\\nBy thoroughly mastering any given branch\\nof knowledge we render it more available for\\nuse at any moment. Hence it is not enough\\nmerely to have books, or to know where to\\nread for information as we want it. Practical\\nwisdom, for the purposes of life, must be\\ncarried about with us, and be ready for use\\nat call. It is not sufficient that we have\\nk", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0113.jp2"}, "114": {"fulltext": "82\\nMAKE THE BEST OF YOURSELF.\\na fund laid up at home, but not a nickel in\\nthe pocket we must carry about with us a\\nstore of the current coin of knowledge ready\\nfor exchange on all occasions, else we are\\ncomparatively helpless when the opportunity\\nfor using it occurs.\\nDecision and promptitude are as requisite\\nin self-culture as in business. The growth\\nof these qualities may be encouraged by\\naccustoming young people to rely upon their\\nown resources, leaving them to enjoy as\\nmuch freedom of action in early life as is\\npracticable. Too much guidance and re-\\nstraint hinder the formation of habits of\\nself-help. They are like bladders tied under\\nthe arms of one who has not taught himself\\nto swim. Want of confidence is perhaps\\na greater obstacle to improvement than is\\ngenerally imagined. It has been said that\\nhalf the failures in life arise from pulling in\\none s horse while he is leaping.\\nSelf-Confidence a Good Thing.\\nDr. Johnson was accustomed to attribute\\nhis success to confidence in his own powers.\\nTrue modesty is quite compatible with a due\\nesteem of one s own merits, and does not\\ndemand the abnegation of all merit. Though\\nthere are those who deceive themselves by\\nputting a false figure before their ciphers, the\\nwant of confidence, the want of faith in one s\\nself, and consequently the want of prompti-\\ntude in action, is a defect of character which\\nis found to stand very much in the way of\\nindividual progress and the reason why so\\nlittle is done is generally because so little is\\nattempted.\\nThere is usually no want of desire on the\\npart of most persons to arrive at the results\\nof self-culture, but there is a great aversion\\nto pay the inevitable price for it, of hard\\nwork. Dr. Johnson held that impatience\\nof study was the mental disease of the\\npresent generation and the remark is\\nstill applicable. We may not believe that\\nthere is a royal road to learning, but we\\nseem to believe very firmly in the popular\\none. In education, we invent labor-saving;\\nprocesses, seek short cuts to science, learn\\nFrench and Latin in twelve lessons, or\\nwithout a master. We resemble the lady\\nof fashion, who engaged a master to teach\\nher on condition that he did not plague her\\nwith verbs and participles. We get our\\nsmattering of science in the same way; we\\nlearn chemistry by listening to a short\\ncourse of lectures enlivened by experiments,\\nand when we have inhaled laughing-gas,,\\nseen green water turned to red, and phos-\\nphorus burned in oxygen, we have got our\\nsmattering, of which the most that can be\\nsaid is, that though it may be better than\\nnothing, it is yet good for nothing. Thus\\nwe often imagine we are being educated\\nwhile we are only amused.\\nCharles Dudley Warner makes the amus-\\ning suggestion that some enterprising Yan-\\nkee will yet invent a machine whereby a\\nyoung man or woman can drop a nickel in\\nthe slot and pull out an education.\\nShirking Hard Work.\\nThe faculty with which young people are\\nthus induced to acquire knowledge, without\\nstudy and labor, is not education. It occu-\\npies but does not enrich the mind. It\\nimparts a stimulus for the time, and produces\\na sort of intellectual keenness and clever-\\nness; but without an implanted purpose and\\na higher object than mere pleasure, it wilt\\nbring with it no solid advantage. In such\\ncases knowledge produces but a passing\\nimpression; a sensation, but no more. Thus\\nthe best qualities of many minds, those\\nwhich are evoked by vigorous effort and\\nindependent action, sleep a deep sleep, and", "height": "3479", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0114.jp2"}, "115": {"fulltext": "THE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\n83\\nare often never called to life, except by the\\nrough awakening of sudden calamity or\\nsuffering, which, in such cases, comes as a\\nblessing if it serves to rouse up a courageous\\nspirit that, but for it, would have slept on.\\nAccustomed to acquire information under\\nthe guise of amusement, young people will\\nsoon reject that which is presented to them\\nunder the aspect of study and labor. Learn-\\ning their knowledge and science in sport,\\nthey will be too apt to make sport of both;\\nwhile the habit of intellectual dissipation,\\nthus engendered, cannot fail, in course of\\ntime, to produce a thoroughly emasculating\\neffect both upon their mind and character.\\nMultifarious reading, said Robertson of\\nBrighton, weakens the mind like smoking,\\nand. is an excuse for its lying dormant. It\\nis the idlest of all idlenesses, and leaves more\\nof impotency than any other.\\nThe evil is a growing one, and operates in\\nvarious ways. Its least mischief is shallow-\\nness its greatest, the aversion to steady\\nlabor which it induces, and the low and\\nfeeble tone of mind which it encourages. If\\nwe would be really wise, we must diligently\\napply ourselves, and confront the same con-\\ntinuous application which our forefathers did\\nfor labor is still, and ever will be, the inevit-\\nable price set upon everything which is\\nvaluable. We must be satisfied to work\\nwith a purpose, and wait the result with\\npatience.\\nShallow Knowledge.\\nA little learning is a dangerous thing\\nDrink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring\\nThere shallow draughts intoxicate the brain,\\nAnd drinking largely sobers us again.\\nFired at first sight -with what the Muse imparts,\\nIn fearless youth we tempt the heights of arts,\\nWhile from the bounded level of our mind\\nShort views we take, nor see the lengths behind\\nBut more advanced, behold the strange surprise.\\nNew distant scenes of endless science rise\\nSo pleased at first the towering Alps we try,\\nMount o er the vales, and seem to tread the sky;\\nTh eternal snows appear already past.\\nAnd the first clouds and mountains seem the last i\\nBut those attained, we tremble to survey\\nThe growing labors of the lengthened way\\nTh increasing prospect tires our wandering eyes.\\nHills creep o er hills, and Alps on Alps arise\\nAlexander Pope.\\nAll progress, of the best kind, is slow; but\\nto him who works faithfully and zealously\\nthe reward will, doubtless, be vouchsafed in\\ngood time. The spirit of industry, embodied\\nin man s daily life, will gradually lead him\\nto exercise his powers on objects outside\\nhimself, of greater dignity and more extended\\nusefulness. And still we must labor on;\\nfor the work of self-culture is never finished.\\nTo be employed, said the poet Gray, is\\nto be happy. It is better to wear out\\nthan rust out, said Bishop Cumberland.\\nHave we not all eternity to rest in? ex-\\nclaimed Arnauld.\\nThe Use of One Talent.\\nIt is the use we make of the powers\\nintrusted to us, which constitutes our only\\njust claim to respect. He who employs his\\none talent aright is as much to be honored as\\nhe to whom ten talents have been given.\\nThere is really no more personal merit\\nattaching to the possession of superior intel-\\nlectual powers than there is in the succession\\nto a large estate. How are those powers\\nused how is that estate employed? The\\nmind may accumulate large stores of knowl-\\nedge without any useful purpose but the\\nknowledge must be allied to goodness and\\nwisdom, and embodied in upright character^\\nelse it is naught.\\nPestalozzi, the great educational reformer,\\neven held intellectual training by itself to be\\npernicious; insisting that the roots of all\\nknowledge must strike and feed in the soil", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0115.jp2"}, "116": {"fulltext": "84\\nMAKE THE BEST OF YOURSELF.\\nof the rightly-governea will. The acquisi-\\ntion of knowledge may, it is true, protect a\\nman against the meaner felonies of life but\\nnot in any degree against its selfish vices,\\nunless fortified by sound principles and\\nhabits. Hence do we find in daily life so\\nmany instances of men who are well-informed\\nin intellect, but utterly deformed in character;\\nfilled with the learning of the schools, yet\\npossessing little practical wisdom, and offer-\\ning examples for warning rather than imita-\\ntion. An often quoted expressioin at this day\\nis that Knowledge is power; but so, also,\\nare fanaticism, despotism and ambition.\\nKnowledge of itself, unless wisely directed,\\nmight merely make bad men more danger-\\nous, and the society in which it was regarded\\nas the highest good, little better than a pan-\\ndemonium.\\nPernicious Education.\\nAll knowledge is not nourishment. The inin4\\nMay pine upon its food. In reckless thirst\\nThe .scholar sometimes kneels beside the stream\\nPolluted b) the lepers of the mind.\\nTlic sceptic, with his doubts of all things good\\nAnd faith in all things evil, has been there,\\nAnd, as the stream was mingled, he has strown\\nThe shore with all bright flowers to tempt the eye,\\nAnd sloped the banks down gently for the feet\\nAnd Genius, like a fallen child of light,\\nHas filled the place with magic, and compelled\\nMost beautiful creations into forms\\nAnd images of license, and they come\\nAnd tempt you with bewildering grace to kneel,\\nAnd drink of the wild waters and behind\\nStand the strong Passions, pleading to go in\\nAnd the approving world looks silent on\\nTil! the pleased mind conspires against itself.\\nAnd finds a subtle reason why tis good.\\nWe are deceived, though even as we drink,\\nWe taste the evil. In his sweetest tone,\\nThe lying Tempter whispers in our ear,\\nThough it may stain, twill strengthen your proud\\nwing;\\nAnd in the wild ambition of the soul\\nWe drink anew, and dream like Lucifer\\nTo mount upon our daring draught to heaven.\\nN. P. Wir,i is.\\nThe possession of the mere materials ol\\nknowledge is something very different from\\nwisdom and understanding, which are reached\\nthrough a higher kind of discipline than that\\nof reading which is often but a mere passive\\nreception of other men s thoughts; there\\nbeing little or no active effort of mind in the\\ntransaction. Then how much of our reading\\nis but the indulgence of a sort of intellectual\\ndram-drinking, imparting a grateful excite-\\nment for a moment, without the slightest\\neffect in improving and enriching the mind\\nor building up the character. Thus many\\nindulge themselves in the conceit that they\\nare cultivating their minds, when they are\\nonly employed in the humbler occupation of\\nkilling time, of which perhaps the best that\\ncan be said is, that it keeps them from doing\\nworse things.\\nIt is also to be borne in mind that the\\nexperience gathered from books, though\\noften valuable, is but of the nature of learn.\\ning whereas the experience gained froii;\\nactual life is of the nature oi wisdom; and a\\nsmall store of the latter is worth vastly more\\nthan any stock of the former. Some one\\nhas truly said that Whatever study tends\\nneither directly nor indirectly to make us\\nbetter men and citizens, is at best but a\\nspecious and ingenious sort of idleness, and\\nthe knowledge we acquire by it only a\\ncreditable kind of ignorance nothing more.\\nThe Great Charter of Liberty,\\nUseful and instructive though good read-\\ning may be, it is yet only one mode o/\\ncultivating the mind and is much less influ-\\nential than practical experience and good\\nexample in the formation of charac ^er. There\\nwere wise, valiant and true-heart( d men bred\\nin England long before the existence of a\\nreading public. Magna Charta, that great\\ncharter of human rights, was secured by men", "height": "3477", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0116.jp2"}, "117": {"fulltext": "i\\nTHE BEAUTIES OF AUTUMN.\\n85", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0117.jp2"}, "118": {"fulltext": "\u00e2\u0080\u00a2BG\\nMAKE THE BEST OF YOURSELF.\\nwho signed the deed with their marks.\\nThough altogether unskilled in the art of\\ndeciphering the literary signs by which\\nprinciples were denominated upon paper,\\nthey yet understood and appreciated, and\\nboldly contended for, the things themselves.\\nThus the foundations of English liberty were\\nlaid by men who, though illiterate, were\\nnevertheless of the very highest stamp of\\ncharacter.\\nThe Declaration of Independence.\\nIt is worth noting that, at the time of our\\nAmerican Revolution, education was so\\nwidely diffused that those who pledged life,\\nliberty and sacred honor in the immortal\\nDeclaration of Independence did it, not by\\nmaking their marks, but by signing their\\nnames with their own hands. They were\\nintelligent, educated men. They could think,\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2nd could see the results of their thinking\\nanc- vL:* action. They were not all eminent\\nstholars, but they knew enough to make\\nAmerica free, and there was no call just then\\nfor any higher attainments. They had know-\\nledge enough to do what needed to be done,\\nwhich was far better than to have the pro-\\nfoundest learning, yet without the practical\\nwisdom that rendered our country free and\\nindependent.\\nIt must be admitted that the chief object\\nof culture is, not merely to fill the mind with\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0other men s thoughts, and to be the passive\\nrecipient of their impressions of things, but\\nto enlarge our individual intelligence, and\\nrender us more useful and efficient workers\\nin the sphere of life to which we may be\\ncalled. Many of the most energetic and\\n.useful workers have been but sparing readers.\\n/Brindley and Stephenson did not learn to\\nread and write until they reached manhood,\\nand yet they did great works and lived\\nmanly lives.\\nJohn Hunter could barely read or write\\nwhen he was twenty years old, though he\\ncould make tables and chairs with any car-\\npenter in the trade. I never read, said\\nthe great physiologist when lecturing before\\nhis class, this pointing to some part of\\nthe subject before him this is the work\\nthat you must study if you wish to become\\neminent in your profession. When told\\nthat one of his contemporaries had charged\\nhim with being ignorant of the dead lan-\\nguages, he said: I would undertake to\\nteach him concerning the human body what\\nhe never knew in any language, dead or\\nliving.\\nThe True Object of Knowledge.\\nIt is not then how much a man may know,\\nthat is of importance, but the end and pur-\\npose for which he knows it. The object of\\nknowledge should be to mature wisdom and\\nimprove character, to render us better,\\nhappier and more useful more benevolent,\\nmore energetic, and more efficient in the\\npursuit of every purpose in life. When\\npeople once fall into the habit of admiring\\nand encouraging ability as such without\\nreference to moral character and religious\\nand political opinions are the concrete form\\nof moral character they are on the highway\\nto all sorts of degradation.\\nWe must ourselves be and do, and not rest\\nsatisfied merely with reading and meditating\\nover what other men have been and done.\\nOur best light must be made life, and our\\nbest thought action. At least we ought to be\\nable to say, as Richter did, I have made as\\nmuch out of myself as could be made of the\\nstuff, and no man should require more; for\\nit is every man s duty to discipline and guide\\nhimself, with God s help, according to his\\nresponsibilities and the faculties with which\\nhe has been endowed.", "height": "3469", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0118.jp2"}, "119": {"fulltext": "THE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\n8^/\\nSerf-discipline and self-control are the be-\\nginnings of practical wisdom; and these\\nmust have their root in self-respect. Hope\\nsprings from it hope, which is the compan-\\nion of power, and the mother of success\\nfor who hopes strongly has within him the\\ngift of miracles. The humblest may say\\nTo respect myself, to develop myself this\\nis my true duty in life. An integral and\\nresponsible part of the great system of\\nsociety, I owe it to society and to its Author\\nnot to degrade or destroy either my body,\\nmind or instincts. On the contrary, I am\\nbound to the best of my power to give to\\nthose parts of my constitution the highest\\ndegree of perfection possible. I am not\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0only to suppress the evil, but to evoke the\\ngood elements in my nature. And as I\\nrespect myself, so am I equally bound to\\nrespect others, as they on their part are\\nbound to respect me. Hence mutual re-\\nspect, justice and order, of which law\\nbecomes the written record and guarantee.\\nReverence Yourself.\\nSelf-respect is the noblest garment with\\nwhich a man may clothe himself the most\\nelevating feeling with which the mind can be\\ninspired. One of Pythagoras wisest max-\\nims, in his Golden Verses, is that with\\nwhich he enjoins the pupil to reverence\\nhimself. Borne up by this high idea, he\\nwill not defile his body by sensuality, nor\\nhis mind by servile thoughts. This senti-\\nment carried into daily life, will be found at\\nthe root of all the virtues cleanliness, so-\\nbriety, chastity, morality and religion.\\nThe pious and just honoring of our-\\n^elves, said Milton, may be thought the\\nradical moisture and fountain-head from\\nwhence every laudable and worthy enterprise\\nissues forth. To think meanly of one s self,\\nis to sink in one s own estimation as well as\\nin the estimation of others. And as the\\nthoughts are, so will the acts be. Man\\ncannot aspire if he looks down if he will\\nrise, he must look up. The very humblest\\nmay be sustained by the proper indulgence\\nof this feeling. Poverty itself may be lifted\\nand lighted up by self-respect; and it is truly\\na noble sight to see a poor man hold himself\\nupright amid his temptations, and refuse to\\ndemean himself by low actions.\\nThe Best Investment.\\nOne way in which self-culture may be\\ndegraded is by regarding it too exclusively\\nas a means of getting on. Viewed in this\\nlight, it is unquestionable that education is\\none of the best investments of time and\\nlabor. In any line of life, intelligence will\\nenable a man to adapt himself more readily\\nto circumstances, suggest improved methods\\nof working, and render him more apt, skilled\\nand effective in all respects.\\nHe who works with his head as well as\\nhis hands, will come to look at his business\\nwith a clearer eye; and he will become con-\\nscious of increasing power ^perhaps the\\nmost cheering consciousness the human\\nmind can cherish. The power of self-help\\nwill gradually grow and in proportion to a\\nman s self-respect, will he be armed against\\nthe temptation of low indulgences. Society\\nand its actions will be regarded with quite a\\nnew interest, his sympathies will widen and\\nenlarge, and he will thus be attracted to work\\nfor others as well as for himself.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0119.jp2"}, "120": {"fulltext": "88\\nROYAL ROAD TO SUCCESS.", "height": "3480", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0120.jp2"}, "121": {"fulltext": "CHAPTER V.\\nTHE ROYAL ROAD TO SUCCESS.\\nF the home, by example and pre-\\n^f cept, teaches children what they\\nought to be, there is a reasona-\\nble certainty that they will\\nsucceed in after-life. All true\\nsuccess must be in themselves.\\nIt is not something that will\\ncome by luck or chance not something\\nthat they can find and pick up as a boy\\nmight find a silver dollar in the street not\\nsomething that can be made for them and\\nthrust upon them.\\nBut suppose your children do not gain an\\noverwhelming amount of worldly success.\\nIt is better that they should be worthy in\\ncharacter and life than that they should rule\\nnations. Henry Clay once said, I would\\nrather be right than to be President.**\\nNot all who seem to fail have failed indeed\\nNot all who fail have therefore worked in vain\\nFor all our acts to many issues lead\\nAnd out of earnest purpose, pure and plain.\\nEnforced by honest toil of hand or brain,\\nThe Lord will fashion, in His own good time\\n(Be this the laborer s proudly humble creed),\\nSuch ends as, to His wisdom, fitliest chime\\nWith His vast love s eternal harmonies-\\nThere is no failure for the good and v ise\\nWhat though thy seed should fall by the wayside\\nAnd the birds snatch it; yet the birds are fed;\\nOr they may bear it far across the tide.\\nTo give rich harvests after thou art dead.\\nSelf-culture may not end in eminence.\\nThe great majority of men, in all times,\\nhowever enlightened, must necessarily be\\nengaged in the ordinary avocations of in-\\ndustry; and no degree of culture which can\\nbe conferred upon the community at large\\nwill ever enable them even were it desira.\\nble, which it is not to get rid of the daily\\nwork of society, which must be done. But\\nthis, we think, lay also be accomplished.\\nWe can elevate the condition of labor by\\nallying it to noble thoughts, which confer a.\\ngrace upon the lowliest as well as the high-\\nest rank. For no matter how poor or\\nhumble a man may be, the great thinker of\\nthis and other days may come in and sit\\ndown with him, and be his companion for\\nthe time, though his dwelling be the mean-\\nest hut.\\nSociety in Yourself.\\nIt is thus that the habit of well-directed\\nreading may become a source of the greatest\\npleasure and self-improvement, and exercise\\na gentle coercion, with the most beneficial\\nresults, over the whole tenor of a man s\\ncharacter and conduct. And even though\\nself-culture may not bring wealth, it will at\\nall events give one the companionship of\\nelevated thoughts. A nobleman once con-\\ntemptuously asked of a sage, What have\\nyou got by all your philosophy? At least\\nI have got society in myself, was the wise\\nman s reply.\\nBut many are apt to feel despondent, and\\nbecome discouraged in the work of self\\nculture, because they do not get on in the\\nworld so fast as they think they deserve to\\ndo. Having planted their acorn, they expect\\nto see it grow into an oak at once. They\\nhave perhaps looked upon knowledge in the\\nlight of a marketable commodity, and are\\n89", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0121.jp2"}, "122": {"fulltext": "90\\nTHE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\nconsequently mortified because it does not\\nsell as they expected it would do.\\nTo regard self-culture either as a means\\nof getting past others in the world, or of\\nintellectual dissipation and amusement, rather\\n/than as a power to elevate the character and\\nexpand the spiritual nature, is to place it on\\na very low level. To use the words of Bacon,\\nKnowledge is not a shop for profit or sale^\\nbut a rich storehouse for the glory of the\\nCreator and the reHef of man s est ^te. It is\\ndoubtless most honorable for a man to labor\\nto elevate himself, and to better his condi-\\ntion in society, but this is not to be done at\\nthe sacrifice of himself. To make the mind\\nthe mere drudge of the body, is putting it to\\na very servile use; and to go about whining\\nand bemoaning our pitiful lot because we fail\\nin achieving that success in life which, after\\nall, depends rather upon habits of industry\\nand attention to business details than upon\\nknowledge, is the mark of a small, and often\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0)f a sour mind.\\nBlessings that are Undeserved.\\nSuch a temper cannot better be reproved\\nthan in the words of Robert Southey, who\\nthus wrote to a friend who sought his counsel\\nI would give you advice if it could be of\\nuse but there is no curing those who choose\\nto be diseased. A good man and a wise\\nman may at times be angry with the world,\\nat times grieved for it but be sure no man\\nwas ever discontented with the world if he\\ndid his duty in it. If a man of education,\\nwho has health, eyes, hands and leisure,\\nwants an object, it is only because God\\nAlmighty has bestowed all those blessings\\nupon a man who does not deserve them.\\nAmusement in moderation is wholesome,\\nand to be commended; but amusement in\\nexcess vitiates the whole nature, and is a\\nthing to be carefully guarded against. The\\nmaxim is often quoted of All work and no\\nplay makes Jack a dull boy; but all play\\nand no work makes him something greatly\\nworse. Nothing can be more hurtful to a\\nyouth than to have his soul sodden with\\npleasure. The best qualities of his mind are\\nimpaired; common enjoyments become taste-\\nless; his appetite for the higher kind of\\npleasures is vitiated and when he comes to\\nface the work and the duties of life, the\\nresult is usually aversion and disgust.\\nThe Bill Comes in Later.\\nFast men waste and exhaust the powers\\nof life, and dry up the sources of true happi-\\nness. Having forestalled their spring, they\\ncan produce no healthy growth of either\\ncharacter or intellect. A child without sim-\\nplicity, a maiden without innocence, a boy\\nwithout truthfulness, are not more piteous\\nsights than the man who has wasted and\\nthrown away his youth in self-indulgence.\\nMirabeau said of himself, My early years\\nhave already in a great measure disinherited\\nthe succeeding ones, and dissipated a great\\npart of my vital powers. As the wrong\\ndone to another to-day returns upon our-\\nselves to-morrow, so the sins of our youth\\nrise up in our age to scourge us. When\\nLord Bacon says that strength of nature\\nin youth passeth over many excesses which\\nare owing a man until he is old, he exposes\\na physical as well as a moral fact which can-\\nnot be too well weighed in the conduct of\\nlife.\\nI assure you, wrote Giusti, the Italian,\\nto a friend, I pay a heavy price for exist-\\nence. It is true that our hves are not at our\\nown disposal. Nature pretends to give them\\ngratis at the beginning, and then sends in her\\naccount. The worst of youthful indiscretions\\nis, not that they destroy health so much as\\nthat they sully manhood. The dissipated", "height": "3467", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0122.jp2"}, "123": {"fulltext": "THE SOWER.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0123.jp2"}, "124": {"fulltext": "92\\nTHE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\nyouth becomes a tainted man; and often he\\ncannot be pure, even if he would. If cure\\nthere be, it is only to be found in inoculating\\nthe mind with a fervent spirit of duty, and in\\nenergetic application to useful work.\\nOne of the most gifted of Frenchmen, in\\npoint of great intellectual endowments, was\\nBenjamin Constant; but, fast at twenty,\\nhis life was only a prolonged wail, instead of\\na harvest of the great deeds which he was\\ncapable of accomplishing with ordinary dili-\\ngence and self-control. He resolved upon\\ndoing so many things, which he never did,\\nthat people came to speak of him as Con-\\nstant the Incon ;ant. He was a fluent and\\nbrilliant writer, and cherished the ambition\\nof writing works which the world would\\nnot willingly let die. But while Constant\\naffected the highest thinking, unhappily he\\npracticed the lowest living. With all his\\npowers of intellect, he was powerless, because\\nhe had no faith in virtue.\\nA Remarkable Career.\\nThe career of Augustin Thierry, the author\\nof the History of the Norman Conquest,\\naffords an admirable contrast to that of Con-\\nstant. His entire life presented a striking\\nexample of perseverance, diligence, self-cul-\\nture and untiring devotion to knowledge.\\nIn the pursuit he lost his eyesight, lost his\\nhealth, but never lost his love of truth.\\nWhen so feeble that he was carried from\\nroom to room, like a helpless infant, in the\\narms of a nurse, his brave spirit never failed\\nhim; and blind and helpless though he was,\\nhe concluded his literary career in the fol-\\nlowing noble words\\nIf, as I think, the interest of science is\\ncounted in the number of great national\\ninterests, I have given my country all that\\nthe soldier, mutilated on the field of battle,\\ngives her. Whatever may be the fate of my\\nlabors, this example, I hope, will not be lost\\nI would wish it to serve to combat the species\\nof moral weakness which is the disease of\\nour present generation; to bring back into\\nthe straight road of life some of those\\nenervated souls that complain of wanting\\nfaith, that know not what to do, and seek\\neverywhere, without finding it, an object Oj\\nworship and admiration. Why say, with so\\nmuch bitterness, that in the world, constituted\\nas it is, there is no air for all lungs no em-\\nployment for all minds? Is not calm and\\nserious study there? and is not that a refuge^\\na hope, a field within the reach of all of us?\\nWith it, evil days are passed over without\\ntheir weight being felt. Every one can\\nmake his own destiny every one employ\\nhis life nobly. This is what I have done,\\nand would do again if I had to recommence\\nmy career; I would choose that which has\\nbrc^ight me where I am. Blind and suffer-\\ning without hope, and almost without inter-\\nmission, I may give this testimony, which\\nfrom me will not appear suspicious. There\\nzs something in the world better than sensual\\nenjoyments, better than fortune, better than\\nhealth itself it is devotion to knowledge.\\nAll for A^ant of Energy.\\nRobert NicoU wrote to a friend, after read-\\ning the Recollections of Coleridge, What\\na mighty intellect was lost in that man for\\nwant of a little energy a little determina-\\ntion NicoU himself was a true and brave\\nspirit, who died young, but not before he had\\nencountered and overcome great difficulties\\nin life. At his outset, while carrying on a\\nsmall business as a bookseller, he found him-\\nself weighed down with a debt of only a\\nhundred dollars, which he said he fek\\nweighing like a millstone round his neck.\\nand that if he had it paid he never would\\nborrow again from mortal man.", "height": "3479", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0124.jp2"}, "125": {"fulltext": "THE ROYAL ROAD TO SUCCESS.\\n93\\nWriting to his mother at the time, he said\\nFear not for me, dear mother, for I feel\\nmyself growing firmer and more hopeful in\\nspirit. The more I think and reflect and\\nthinking, not reading, is- now my occupation\\n-I feel that, whether I be growing richer or\\not, I am growing a wiser man, which is far\\nbetter. Pain, poverty, and all the other wild\\nbeasts of life which so affrighten others, I am\\nso bold as to think I could look in the face\\nwithout shrinking, without losing respect for\\nmyself, faith in man s high destinies, or trust\\nin God. There is a point which it costs\\nmuch mental toil and struggling to gain, but\\nwhich, when once gained, a man can look\\ndown from, as a traveler from a lofty mount-\\nain, on storms raging below, while he is\\nwalking in sunshine. That I have yet gained\\nthis point in life I will not say. but I feel\\nmyself daily nearer to it.\\nDifficulties the Making 3f t^en.\\nIt is not ease, but effort not fadlity, but\\ndifficulty, that makes men. There is, per-\\nhaps, no station in life, in which difficulties\\nhave not to be encountered and overcome\\nbefore any decided measure of success can be\\nachieved. Those difficulties are, however,\\nour best instructors, as our mistakes often\\nform our best experience. Charles James\\nFox was accustomed to say that he hoped\\nmore for a man who failed, and yet went on\\nin spite of his failure, than from the buoyant\\ncareer of the successful.\\nIt is all very well, said he, to tell me\\nthat a young m.an has distinguished himself\\nby a brilliant first speech. He may go on,\\nor he may be satisfied with his first triumph\\nbut show me a young man who has not suc-\\nceeded at first, and nevertheless has gone on,\\nand I will back that young man to do better\\nthan most of those who have succeeded at\\nthe first trial.\\nWe learn wisdom from failure much more\\nthan from success. We often discover what\\nzvill do, by finding out what will not do and\\nprobably he who never made a mistake never\\nmade a discovery. It was the failure in the\\nattempt to make a sucking-pump act, when\\nthe working-bucket was more than thirty-\\nthree feet above the surfaceof the watertobe\\nraised, that led observant men to study the\\nlaw of atmospheric pressure, and opened a\\nnew field of research to the genius of Galileo,\\nTorrecelli and Boyle. John Hunter used to\\nremark that the art of surgery would not\\nadvance until professional men had the cour-\\nage to publish their failures as well as their\\nsuccesses. Watt, the engineer, said of all\\nthings most wanted in mechanical engineering\\nwas a history of failures We want, he\\nsaid, a book of blots.\\nSuccess from Failure.\\nWhen Sir Humphry Davy was once shown\\na dexterously manipulated experiment, he\\nsaid: I thank God I was not made a dex-\\nterous manipulator, for the most important\\nof my discoveries have been suggested to me\\nby failures. Another distinguished investi-\\ngator in physical science has left it on record\\nthat, whenever in the course of his researches\\nhe encountered an apparently insuperable\\nobstacle, he generally found himself on the\\nbrink of some discovery. The very greatest\\nthings great thoughts, great discoveries,\\nin\\\\-entions have usually been nurtured in\\nhardship, often pondered over in sorrow, and\\nat length established with difficulty.\\nBeethoven said of Rossini, that he had in\\nhim the stuff to have made a good musician\\nif he had only, when a boy, been well flogged\\nbut that he had been spoiled by the facility\\nwith which he composed. Men who feel\\ntheir strength within them need not fear to\\nencounter adverse opinions they have far", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0125.jp2"}, "126": {"fulltext": "94\\nTHE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\ngreater reason to fear undue praise and too\\nfriendly criticism. When Mendelssohn was\\nabout to enter the orchestra at Birmingham,\\non the first performance of his Elijah, he\\nsaid, laughingly, to one of his friends and\\ncritics, Stick your claws into me Don t\\ntell me what you like, but what you don t\\nHke\\nThe Best Training.\\nIt has been said, and truly, that it is the\\ndefeat that tries the general more than the\\nvictory. Washington lost more battles than\\nhe gained but he succeeded in the end-\\nThe Romans, in their most victorious cam-\\npaigns, almost invariably began with defeats.\\nMoreau used to be compared by his com-\\npanions to a drum, which nobody hears of\\nexcept it be beaten. Wellington s military\\ngenius was perfected by encounter with diffi-\\nculties of apparently the most overwhelming\\ncharacter, but which only served to move his\\nresolution, and bring out more prominently\\nhis great qualities as a man and a general.\\nSo the skilful mariner obtains his best experi-\\nence amid storms and tempests, which train\\nhim to self-reliance, courage, and the highest\\ndiscipline and we probably owe to rough\\nseas and wintry nights the best training of\\nour race of seamen, who are certainly not\\nsurpassed by any in the world.\\nNecessity may be a hard school-mistress,\\nbut she is generally found the best. Though\\nthe ordeal of adversity is one from which we\\nnaturally shrink, yet, when it comes, we must\\nbravely and manfully encounter it. Bums\\nsays truly\\nThough losses and crosses\\nBe lessons right severe,\\nThere s wit there, you ll get there.\\nYou ll find no other where.\\nSweet indeed are the uses of adversity.\\nThey reveal to us our powers, and call forth\\nour energies. If there be real worth in the\\ncharacter, like sweet herbs, it will give forth.\\nits finest fragrance when pressed. Crosses,\\nsays the old proverb, are the ladders that\\nlead to heaven. What is even poverty\\nitself, asks Richter, that a man should\\nmurmur under it It is but as the pain o!\\npiercing a maiden s ear, and you hang prec-\\nious jewels in the wound.\\nProsperity not always Beneficial.\\nIn the experience of life it is found that the\\nwholesome discipline of adversity in strong\\nnatures usually carries with it a self-preserv-\\ning influence. Many are found capable of\\nbravely bearing up under privations, and\\ncheerfully encountering obstructions, who\\nare afterward found unable to withstand the\\nmore dangerous influences of prosperity. It\\nis only a weak man whom the wind deprives\\nof his cloak a man of average strength is-\\nmore in danger of losing it when assailed\\nby the beams of a too genial sun. Thus it\\noften needs a higher discipline and a stronger\\ncharacter to bear up under good fortune than\\nunder adverse. Some generous natures,\\nkindle and warm with prosperity, but there\\nare many on whom wealth has no such,\\ninfluence. Base hearts it only hardens,,\\nmaking those who are mean and servile,,\\nmean and proud.\\nBut Avhile prosperity is apt to harden the\\nheart to pride, adversity in a man of resolu-\\ntion will serve to ripen it into fortitude. To\\nuse the words of Burke, Difficulty is a\\nsevere instructor, set over us by the supreme\\nordinance of a parental Guardian and instruc-\\ntor, who knows us better than we know our-\\nselves, as He loves us better too. He that\\nwrestles us strengthens our nerves, and\\nsharpens our skill; our antagonist is thus\\nour helper. Without the necessity of\\nencountering difficulty, life might be easier,", "height": "3480", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0126.jp2"}, "127": {"fulltext": "THE ROYAL ROAD TO SUCCESS.\\n95\\nbut men would be worth less. For trials,\\nwisely improved, train the character, and\\nteach self-help thus hardship itself may\\noften prove the wholesomest discipline for\\nus, though we recognize it not.\\nWhen the gallant young Hodson, unjustly\\nremoved from his Indian command, felt\\nhimself sore pressed down by unmerited\\ncalumny and reproach, he yet preserved the\\ncourage to say to a friend, I strive to look\\nthe worst boldly in the face, as I would an\\nenemy in the field, and to do my appointed\\nwork resolutely and to the best of my ability,\\nsatisfied that there is a reason for all; and\\nthat even irksome duties well done bring\\ntheir own reward, and that, if not, still they\\nare duties.\\nThe battle of life is, in most cases, fought\\nuphill; and to win it without a struggle\\nwere perhaps to win it without honor. If\\nthere were no difficulties there would be no\\nsuccess; if there were nothing to struggle\\nfor, there would be nothing to be achieved.\\nDifficulties may intimidate the weak, but\\nthey act only as a wholesome stimulus to\\nmen of resolution and valor. All experience\\nof life, indeed, serves to prove that the im-\\npediments thrown in the way of human\\nadvancement may, for the most part, be over-\\ncome by steady good conduct, honest zeal,\\nactivity, perseverance and, above all, by a de-\\ntermined resolution to surmount difficulties,\\nand stand up manfully against misfortune.\\nThe Hill Difficulty.\\nIt is a weary hill\\nOf moving sand that still\\nShifts, struggle as we will,\\nBeneath our tread\\nOf those who went before,\\nAnd tracked the desert o er.\\nThe footmarks are no more.\\nBut gone and fled.\\nI gaze on that bright band,\\nWho on the summit stand,\\nTo order and command,\\nLike stars on high\\nYet with despairing pace\\nMy way I could retrace,\\nOr on this desert place\\nSink down and die.\\nAs we who toil and weep,\\nAnd with our weeping steep\\nThe path o er which we creep.\\nThey had not striven\\nThey must have taken flight\\nTo that serenest lieight,\\nAnd won it by the might\\nOf wings from heaven.\\nRichard Chenevix Trench.\\nGrappling with Obstacles.\\nThe school of difficulty is the best school\\nof moral discipline, for nations as for\\nindividuals. Indeed, the history of diffi-\\nculty would be but a history of all the great\\nand good things that have yet been accom-\\nplished by men. It is hard to say how much\\nnorthern nations owe to their encounter with\\na comparatively rude and changeable climate,\\nand an originally sterile soil, which is one of\\nthe necessities of their condition involving\\na perennial struggle with difficulties such as\\nthe natives of sunnier climes know nothing of.\\nAnd thus it may be, that though our finest\\nproducts are exotic, the skill and industry\\nwhich have been necessary to rear them,,\\nhave issued in the production of a native\\ngrowth of men not surpassed on the globe.\\nWherever there is difficulty, the individual\\nman must come out for better or for worse.\\nEncounter with it will train his strength, and\\ndiscipline his skill heartening him for future\\neffort, as the racer, by being trained to run\\nup the high hill, at length courses with facility.\\nThe road to success may be steep to climb,\\nand it puts to the proof the energies of him\\nwho would reach the summit. But by\\nexperience a man soon learns that obstacles", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0127.jp2"}, "128": {"fulltext": "m\\nTHE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\nare to be overcome by grappling with them\\nthat the nettle feels as soft as silk when it is\\nboldly grasped and that the most effective\\nhelp toward realizing the object proposed is\\nthe moral conviction that we can and will\\naccomplish it. Thus difficulties often fall\\naway of themselves before the determination\\nto overcome them.\\nTry, Try Again.\\nMuch will be done if we do but try\\nNobody knows what he can do till he has\\ntried and few try their best till they have\\nbeen forced to do it. If I could do such\\nand such a thing, sighs the desponding\\nyouth. But nothing will be done if he only\\nwishes. The desire must ripen into purpose\\nand effort and one energetic attempt is\\nworth a thousand aspirations. It is these\\nthorny ifs the mutterings of impotence\\nand despair which so often hedge round\\nthe field of possibility, and prevent anything\\nbeing done or even attempted. A diffi-\\nculty, says a well-known author, is a thing\\nto be overcome grapple with it at once\\nfacility will come with practice, and strength\\nand fortitude with repeated effort. Thus the\\nmind and character may be trained to an\\nalmost perfect discipline, and enabled to act\\nwith a grace, spirit and liberty, almost incom-\\nprehensible to those who have not passed\\nthrough a similar experience.\\nEverything that we learn is the mastery or\\na difficulty and the mastery of one helps to\\nthe mastery of others. Things which may\\nat first sight appear comparatively valueless\\nin education such as the study of the dead\\nlanguages, and the relations of lines and sur-\\nfaces which we call mathematics are really\\nof the greatest practical value, not so much\\nbecause of the information which they yield,\\nas because of the development which they\\ncompel. The mastery of these studies\\nevokes effort, and cultivates powers of appli-\\ncation, which otherwise might have lain\\ndormant.\\nThus one thing leads to another, and so\\nthe work goes on through life encounter\\nwith difficulty ending only when life and\\nculture end. But indulging in the feehng of\\ndiscouragement never helped anyone over a\\ndifficulty, and never will. D Alembert s\\nadvice to the student who complained to him\\nabout his want of success in mastering the\\nfirst elements of mathematics was the right\\none, Go on, sir, and faith and strength will\\ncome to you.\\nHenry Clay s Advice to Young Men.\\nThe danseuse who turns a pirouette, the\\nviolinist who plays a sonata, have acquired\\ntheir dexterity by patient repetition and after\\nmany failures. Carissimi, when praised for\\nthe ease and grace of his melodies, exclaimed,\\nAh! you little know with what difficulty\\nthis ease has been acquired. Sir Joshua\\nReynolds, when once asked how long it had\\ntaken him to paint a certain picture, replied,\\nAU my life.\\nWhen Dr. Lyman Beecher was asked how\\nlong it took him to prepare one of his mas-\\nterly discourses that had just electrified\\nthousands, he promptly repHed, Forty\\nyears. Henry Clay, when giving advice to\\nyoung men, said, I owe my success in life\\nto one circumstance, that at the age of\\ntwenty-seven I began and continued for\\nyears, the process of daily reading and\\nspeaking upon the contents of some histori-\\ncal or scientific book. These off-hand efforts\\nwere made, sometimes in a corn-field, at\\nothers in the forest, and not unfrequently\\nin some distant barn, with the horse and\\nthe ox for my auditors. It is to this early\\npractice of the art of all arts that I am\\nindebted for the primary and leading im-\\nI", "height": "3477", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0128.jp2"}, "129": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0129.jp2"}, "130": {"fulltext": "98\\nTHE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\npulses that stimulated me onward and have\\nshaped and moulded my whole subsequent\\ndestiny.\\nCurran, the Irish orator, when a youth,\\nhad a strong defect in his articulation, and at\\nschool he was known as stuttering Jack\\nCurran. While he was engaged in the\\nstudy of the law, and still struggling to over-\\ncome his defect, he was stung into eloquence\\nby the sarcasms of a member of a debating\\nclub, who characterized him as Orator\\nMum for, like Cowper, when he stood up\\nto speak on a previous occasion, Curran had\\nnot been able to utter a word. The taunt\\nstung him and he replied in a triumphant\\nspeech.\\nPractice Makes Perfect.\\nThis accidental discovery in himself of the\\ngift of eloquence encouraged him to proceed\\nin his studies with renewed energy. He\\ncorrected his enunciation by reading aloud,\\nemphatically and distinctly, the best passages\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0in literature for several hours every day,\\nstudying his features before a mirror, and\\nadopting a method of gesticulation suited to\\nhis rather awkward and ungraceful figure.\\nHe also proposed cases to himself, which he\\nargued with as much care as if he had been\\naddressing a jury.\\nCurran began business with the qualifica-\\ntion which Lord Eldon stated to be the first\\nrequisite for distinction, that is, to be not\\nworth a shilling. While working his way\\nlaboriously at the bar, still oppressed by the\\ndiffidence which had overcome him in his\\ndebating club, he was on one occasion pro-\\nvoked by the Judge (Robinson) into making\\na very severe retort. In the case under dis-\\ncussion, Curran observed, that he had never\\nmet the law as laid down by his lordship in\\nany book in his library. That may be,\\nsir, said the judge, in a contemptuous tone.\\nbut I suspect that your library is v cy\\nsmall. His lordship was notoriously a\\nfurious political partisan, the author of several\\nanonymous pamphlets characterized by un-\\nusual violence and dogmatism.\\nCurran, roused by the allusion to his-\\nstraightened circumstances, replied thus: It\\nis very true, my lord, that I am poor, and\\nthe circumstance has certainly curtailed my\\nlibrary my books are not numerous but\\nthey are select, and I hope they have been\\nperused with proper dispositions. I have\\nprepared myself for this high profession by\\nthe study of a few good works, rather than,\\nby the composition of a great many bad\\nones. I am not ashamed of my poverty;.\\nbut I should be ashamed of my wealth,,\\ncould I have stooped to acquire it by servility\\nand corruption. If I rise not to rank, I shall\\nat least be honest and should I ever cease\\nto be so, many an example shows me that\\nan ill-gained elevation, by making me the\\nmore conspicuous, would only make me the\\nmore universally and the more notoriously-\\ncontemptible.\\nHonorable Poverty.\\nBe thou clad in russet weed,\\nBe thou decked in silken stole.\\nGrave these counsels on thy soul\\nSay man s true, genuine estimate.\\nThe grand criterion of his fate,\\nIs not, art thou high or low\\nDid thy fortune ebb or flow?\\nDid many talents gild the span\\nOr frugal nature grudge thee one\\nTell them, and press it on their mind,\\nAs thou thyself must shortly find,\\nThe smile or frown of awful Heaven\\nTo virtue or to vice is given.\\nSay, to the just, and kind, and wise.\\nThere solid self-enjoyment lies\\nThat foolish, selfish, faithless ways,\\nLead to the wretched, vile, and base.\\nRobert Burns.\\nThe extremest poverty has been no ob-\\nstacle in the way of men devoted to the duty", "height": "3466", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0130.jp2"}, "131": {"fulltext": "THE ROYAL ROAD TO SUCCESS.\\nof self-culture. Professor Alexander Murray,\\nthe linguist, learned to write by scribbling\\nhis letters on an old wool-card with the end\\nof a burned heather stem. The only book\\nwhich his father, who was a poor shepherd,\\npossessed, was a penny Shorter Catechism\\nbut that, being thought too valuable for\\ncommon use, was carefully preserved in a\\ncupboard for the Sunday catechizings. Pro-\\nfessor Moor, when a young man, being too\\npoor to purchase Newton s Principia, bor-\\nrowed the book, and copied the whole of it\\nwith his own hand. Many poor students,\\nwhile laboring daily for their living, have\\nonly been able to snatch an atom of knowl-\\nedge here and there at intervals, as birds do\\ntheir food in winter time when the fields are\\ncovered with snow. They have struggled\\non, and faith and hope have come to them.\\nThe Pleasure of Hard Work.\\nA well-known author and publisher, Wil-\\nliam Chambers, of Edinburgh, speaking\\nbefore an assemblage of young men in that\\ncity, thus briefly described to them his\\nhumble beginnings, for their encouragement\\nI stand before you, he said, a self-\\neducated man. My education is that which\\nis supplied at the humble parish schools of\\nScotland; and it was only when I went to\\nEdinburgh, a poor boy, that I devoted my\\nevenings, after the labors of the day, to the\\ncultivation of that intellect which the Al-\\nmighty has given me. From seven or eight\\nin the morning till nine or ten at night was I\\nat my business as a bookseller s apprentice,\\nand it was only during hours after these,\\nstolen from sleep, that I could devote myself\\nto study. I did not read novels my atten-\\ntion was devoted to physical science, and\\nother useful matters. I also taught myself\\nFrench, I look back to those times with\\ngreat pleasure, and am almost sorry I have\\nnot to go through the same cxpcri-.n-. cr\\nagain for I reaped more pleasure when I\\nhad not a sixpence in my poc :et, studying-\\nin a garret in Edinburgh, than I now find-\\nwhen sitting amid all the elegancies and\\ncomforts of a parlor.\\nStory of Elihu Burritt.\\nThe story of the learned blacksmith is\\nso interesting and instructive, and points so\\nclearly to the true sources of success that\\nwe take pleasure in inserting it here.\\nElihu Burritt was the third son of a shoe-\\nmaker, the youngest of ten children. He\\nwas born in New Britain, Connecticut, on\\nthe 8th of December, 1810. The parents\\nof this distinguished man were a pious and\\namiable couple. When about sixteen years\\nof age, Elihu was apprenticed to a black-\\nsmith and made his home with his brother\\nElijah, an educated man, who had been\\ndriven from Georgia because of his anti-\\nslavery proclivities. At one and twenty,\\nwhen Elihu s apprenticeship expired, he\\nbecame a student with his brother, who was\\nthe village schoolmaster. At the close of\\nthe term he returned to the shop, determined\\nto make up the time he had lost, which he\\nattempted to do by performing the work of\\ntwo men and getting double pay.\\nIn 1 84 1 Burritt made his first appearance\\nas a public lecturer, and about that time, or\\nshortly after, he established a weekly paper\\nentitled The Christian Citizen. It was a\\nvery attractive, instructive and able paper.\\nIn its columns were articles of great value,\\nand some of them have found their way into\\nvolumes of choice selections. In 1846 he\\nmade his first visit to England, where he\\npublished Sparks from the Anvil. During\\nthe potato famine in Ireland, his appeals to\\nhis fellow-countrymen for aid met with\\ngenerous responses. In 1863 Mr. Burritt", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0131.jp2"}, "132": {"fulltext": "100\\nTHE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\nmade a second visit to England, and during\\nthe summer season he walked from London\\nto John O Groat s, the most northern point of\\nScotland, and afterward gave an account of\\nhis journey in a fascinating book.\\nLeft an Honored Name.\\nTwo years later, resident Lincoln ap-\\napointed him to the -^fifice of U. S. Consul\\nat Birmingham, and for five years he filled\\nthe position with honor to his country and\\ncredit to himself His leisure was filled with\\nliterary labor and occasional speech-making\\nin favor of temperance, peace, international\\narbitration, coperative employment, cheap\\nPostage, etc. He was an emphatic and\\nenthusiastic advocate of peace, writing\\nessays and delivering addresses, and doing\\nall that he could to help the cause along.\\nIn 1870 he returned to his native town,\\nwhere he died on the 8th of March, 1879.\\nIn the words of Mr. Frederick Sherlock, in\\nliis beautiful book entitled Illustrious Ab-\\nstainers, He left to his country the sweet\\nfragrance of a name which will be ever\\nhonored as amongst the noblest of the age\\nin. which he lived, and bequeathed to the\\nworld a glorious example of self-culture,\\nwhich, we doubt not, will be potential for\\ngood through all time.\\nWhat a lesson is here in the life of this\\ngood man. The son of a poor shoemaker;\\na blacksmith s apprentice and student; a\\njourneynian, mastering many languages; a\\nlecturer, editor and author; an iconoclast\\nreformer, swinging his battle-axe with more\\nforce than he did the hammer a representa-\\ntive man at home and abroad, admired and\\nhonored for his learning and culture, and for\\nhis great ability. Above and beyond all\\nthis, he was a modest, Christian gentleman,\\nseeking in every way to proclaim the gospel\\nof peace on earth and goodwill to men.\\nSome men are not so great in their own\\nestimation as they are in that of others.\\nWhat they have done has been the result\\nof such a gradual preparation, that they are\\nnot conscious of their own power, and their\\ndeeds have been so long before the world\\nthat they have become household names.\\nSome never blow their own trumpet, but\\nkeep themselves quite behind the curtain,\\nand present their cause in a modest, yet\\nearnest manner. Such generally succeed in\\ntheir undertakings, and eventually secure\\nlasting fame if their cause is a worthy one.\\nHis Works Spoke for Him.\\nThose who talk about themselves more\\nthan about their cause are sure to fail, and\\nthey merit the contempt they have earned.\\nIt is easy to be courageous when there is no\\ndanger, but cowardly in times of great diffi-\\nculty. Some spend their time in boasting in\\na pompous manner what they intend to do,\\nbut never commence the task while others\\ndo the work, and let it speak for itself.\\nElihu Burritt s works spoke for him. This\\nremarkable man, who was a living, speaking\\npolyglott,was also an excellent mathematician.\\nFigures tumbled from his pencil like seeds\\nfrom a sack. He commanded a graphic pen,\\nand some of his essays and sketches are\\nclassed with the best efforts in the language.\\nHe was also a good Samaritan, a philanthro-\\npist and reformer, with a soft heart in his\\nbosom. Believing that God made of one\\nblood all the nations of the earth, he aimed\\nto unite them by the fraternal links of brother-\\nhood. He looked upon war as an inexcusable\\nevil, and labored manfully for its extinction.\\nHe would dismantle the arsenal, disband the\\narmy, spike the cannon and reforge the sword\\nand cutlass, turning them into agricultural\\nimplements. He would take our ships of war\\nand lade them to the water s edge with food", "height": "3480", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0132.jp2"}, "133": {"fulltext": "THE ROYAL ROAD TO SUCCESS.\\n101\\nand clothing for the poor. He said the bal-\\nUst should be round clams, or the real\\njuahaugs, heavy as cast-iron and capital for\\nroasting. Then he would build along up,\\nfilling every square inch with well-cured pro-\\nprovisions. He would have a hogshead of\\nbacon mounted into every porthole, each of\\nwhich should discharge fifty hams a minute\\nwhen the ship was brought into action, and\\nthrown into Keil by the besieging armies\\nhe would barricade the low, narrow streets\\nwith loaves of bread, would throw up a\\nbreastwork clear around the market-place of\\nbarrels of flour, pork and beef, and in the\\nmiddle raise a stack of salmon and codfish as\\nlarge as a Methodist meeting-house, with a\\nsteeple to it, and the bell should ring to all\\nthe city bells, and the city bells should ring\\nlllj \u00e2\u0096\u00a0iiin iiMiiiim\\nsfi^ K\\nTHE SOLDIER S DREAM.\\nthe State-rooms should be filled with well-\\nmade garments, and the taut cordage and the\\nlong tapering spires should be festooned\\nwith boys jackets and trowsers.\\nThen, when there should be no more room\\nfor another codfish or herring or sprig of\\ncatnip, he would run up the white flag of\\npeace. He would throw as many hams into\\na famine-stricken city in twenty-four hours\\nas there were bomb-shells and cannon-balls\\nto all the people to come to market and buy\\nprovisions without money and without price\\nAnd white flags should everywhere wave\\nin the breeze on the vanes of steeples, on\\nmastheads, on flagstones along the embat-\\ntled walls, on the ends of willow sticks borne\\nby romping, laughing, trooping children.\\nAll the blood-colored drapery of war should\\nbow and blush before the stainless standard\\nof peace.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0133.jp2"}, "134": {"fulltext": "102\\nTHE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\nIt is a notable fact that the great majority\\nof American boys who have become famous\\nhad to struggle hard with poverty. It is\\nrelated of Martin Van Buren that he used to\\nlearn his lessons in the evening by the light\\nof a pine knot, blazing in the old country\\nfireplace. This was cheaper than even a\\ntallow candle.\\nA Poor, Barefooted Boy.\\nSir Walter Scott was accustomed to cite\\nthe case of his young friend John Leyden as\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2one of the most remarkable illustrations of\\nthe power of perseverance which he had ever\\nknown. The son of a shepherd in one of\\nthe wildest valleys in Roxburgshire, he was\\nalmost entirely self-educated. Like many\\nScotch shepherds sons like Hogg, who\\ntaught himself to write by copying the letters\\nof a printed book as he lay watching his\\nflock on the hillside like Cairns, who from\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2tending sheep on the Lammermoors, raised\\nhimself by dint of application and industry to\\n.the professor s chair which he filled with\\nhonor\u00e2\u0080\u0094 like Murray, Ferguson and many\\nmore, Leyden was early inspired by a thirst\\nfor knowledge. When a poor barefooted\\nboy he walked si.x or eight miles across the\\nmoors daily to learn reading at the little\\nvillage schoolhouse of Kirkton and this\\nwas all the education he received the rest\\nlie acquired for himself\\nHe found his way to Edinburgh to attend\\nthe college there, setting the extremest pen-\\nury at defiance. He was first discovered as\\nthe frequenter of a small booksellers shop\\nkept by Archibald Constable, afterward so\\nwell known as a publisher. He would pass\\nhour after hour perched on a ladder in mid-\\nair, with some great folio in his hand, forget-\\nful of the scanty meal of bread and water\\nwhich awaited him at his miserable lodging.\\nAccess to books and lectures comprised all\\nwithin the bounds of his wishes. Thus he\\ntoiled and battled at the gates of science untiJ\\nhis unconquerable perseverance carried every-\\nthing before it.\\nBefore he had attained his nineteenth year\\nhe had astonished all the professors in Edin-\\nburgh by his profound knowledge of Greek\\nand Latin, and the general mass of informa-\\ntion he had acquired. Having turned his\\nviews to India, he sought employment in the\\ncivil service, but failed. He was, however,\\ninformed that a surgeon s assistant s commis-\\nsion was open to him. But he was no\\nsurgeon, and knew no more of the profes-\\nsion than a child. He could, however, learn.\\nThen he was told that he must be ready to\\npass in six months 1 Nothing daunted, he\\ntook his degree with honor. Scott and a\\nfew friends helped to fit him out; and he\\nsailed for India, after publishing his beautiful\\npoem, The Scenes of Infancy. In India\\nhe promised to become one of the greatest\\nof Oriental scholars, but was unhappily cut\\noff by fever caught by exposure, and died\\nat an early age.\\nA Dull Genius.\\nThe life of the late Dr. Lee, Professor of\\nHebrew at Cambridge, furnishes one of the\\nmost remarkable instances in modern times\\nof the power of patient perseverance and\\nresolute purpose in working out an honor-\\nable career in literature. He received his\\neducation at a charity school at Lognor,\\nShrewsbury, but so little distinguished him-\\nself there, that his master pronounced him\\none of the dullest boys that ever passed\\nthrough his hands.\\nHe was put apprentice to a carpenter, and\\nworked at that trade until he arrived at man-\\nhood. To occupy his leisure hours he took\\nto reading; and, some of the books contain-\\ning Latin quotations, he became desirous of", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0134.jp2"}, "135": {"fulltext": "THE ROYAL ROAD TO SUCCESS.\\n103\\nascertaining what they meant. He bought a\\nLatin grammar, and proceeded to learn Latin.\\nAs Stone, the Duke of Argyle s gardener,\\nsaid, long before, Does one need to know\\nanything more than the twenty-four letters\\nin order to learn everything else that one\\nwishes. Lee rose early and sat up late, and\\nsat up late, and he succeeded in mastering\\nthe Latin before his apprenticeship was out.\\nWhile working one day in some place of\\nworship, a copy of a Greek Testament fell\\nin his way, and he was immediately filled\\nwith the desire to learn that language. He\\naccordingly sold some of his Latin books,\\nand purchased a Greek Grammar and Lexi-\\ncon. Taking pleasure in learning, he soon\\nmastered the language.\\nThe Learned Carpenter.\\nThen he sold his Greek books, and bought\\nHebrew ones, and learned that language,\\n-unassisted by any instructor, without any\\nhope of fame or reward, but simply following\\nthe bent of his genius. He next proceeded\\nto learn the Chaldee, Syriac and Samaritan\\ndialects. But his studies began to tell upon\\nhis health, and brought on disease in his\\neyes through his long night-watchings with\\nhis books. Having laid them aside for a\\ntime and recovered his health, he went on\\nwith his daily work. His character as a\\ntradesman being excellent, his business im-\\nproved, and his means enabled him to marry,\\nwhich he did when twenty-eight years old.\\nHe determined now to devote himself to\\nthe maintenance of his family, and to re-\\nnounce the luxury of literature; accordingly\\nhe sold all his books. He might have con-\\ntinued a working carpenter all his life, had\\nnot the chest of tools upon which he de-\\npended for subsistence been destroyed by\\nfire, and destitution stared him in the face.\\nHe was too poor to buy new tools, so he\\nbethought him of teaching children their let-\\nters a profession requiring the least possi-\\nble capital. But though he had mastered\\nmany languages, he was so defective in the\\ncommon branches of knowledge, that at first\\nhe could not teach them. Resolute of pur-\\npose, however, he assiduously set to work,\\nand taught himself arithmetic and writing to\\nsuch a degree as to be able to impart the\\nknowledge of these branches to little chil-\\ndren.\\nThe Top Round of the Ladder.\\nHis unaffected, simple and beautiful char,\\nacter gradually attracted friends, and the\\nacquirements of the learned carpenter\\nbecame bruited abroad. Dr. Scott, a neigh-\\nboring clergyman, obtained for him the\\nappointment of master of a charity school\\nin Shrewsbury, and introduced him to a\\ndistinguished Oriental scholar. These friends\\nsupplied him with books, and Lee succes-\\nsively mastered Arabic, Persic and Hin-\\ndostanee. He continued to pursue his\\nstudies while on duty as a private in the\\nlocal militia of the county gradually acquir-\\ning greater proficiency in languages. At\\nlength his kind patron. Dr. Scott, enabled\\nLee to enter Queen s College, Cambridge;\\nand after a course of study, in which he\\ndistinguished himself by his mathematical\\nacquirements, a vacancy occurring in the\\nprofessorship of Arabic and Hebrew, he\\nwas worthily elected to fill the honorable\\noffice.\\nBesides ably performing his duties as a\\nprofessor, he voluntarily gave much of his\\ntime to the instruction of missionaries going\\nforth to preach the Gospel to Eastern tribes\\nin their own tongue. He also made transla-\\ntions of the Bible into several Asiatic dia-\\nlects and having mastered the New Zealand\\nlanguage, he arranged a grammar and", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0135.jp2"}, "136": {"fulltext": "104\\nTHE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\nvocabulary for two New Zealand chiefs who\\nWere then in England, which books are now\\nin daily use in the New Zealand schools.\\nSuch, in brief, is the remarkable history of\\nDr. Samuel Lee; and it is but the counter-\\npart of numerous similarly instructive exam-\\nples of the power of perseverance in self-\\nculture, as displayed in the lives of many of\\nthe most distinguished of our literary and\\nscientific men.\\nAn Iron Will and a Stout Heart.\\nFaith, firmness, confidence, consistency these are\\nwell allied\\nYea, let a man press on in aught, he shall not lack\\nof honor\\nFor such a one seemeth as superior to the native\\ninstability of creatures\\nThat he doeth, he doeth as a god, and men will\\nmarvel at his courage.\\nFven in crimes, a partial praise cannot be denied to\\ndaring,\\nAnd many fearless chiefs have won the friendship of\\na foe.\\nConfidence is conqueror of men victorious both\\nover them and in them\\nThe iron will of one stout heart shall make a thou-\\nsand quail\\nA feeble dwarf, dauntlessly resolved, will turn the\\ntide of battle.\\nAnd rally to a nobler strife the giants that had fled\\nThe tenderest child, unconscious of a fear, will\\nshame the man to danger.\\nAnd when he dared it, danger died, and faith had\\nvanquished fear.\\nBoldness is akin to power yea, because ignorance\\nis weakness,\\n[Knowledge with unshrinking might will nerve the\\nvigorous hand.\\nM. F. TUPPER.\\nThere are many other illustrious names\\nwhich might be cited to prove the truth of\\nthe common saying that it is never too late\\nto learn. Even at advanced years men can\\ndo much, if they will determine on making\\na beginning. Benjamin Franklin was fifty\\nbefore he fully entered upon the study of\\nNatural Philosophy. Dryden and Scott\\nwere not known as authors until each was\\nin his fortieth year. James Watt, when\\nabout forty, while working at his trade of\\nan instrument-maker in Glasgow, learned\\nFrench, German and Italian, to enable him-\\nself to peruse the valuable works on me-\\nchanical philosophy which existed in those\\nlanguages. Handel was forty-eight before\\nhe published any of his great works. In-\\ndeed, hundreds of instances might be given\\nof men who struck out an entirely new path,\\nand successfully entered on new studies, at a\\ncomparatively advanced time of life. None\\nbut the frivolous or the indolent will say, I\\nam too old to learn.\\nMen who Move the World.\\nAnd here we would repeat what we have\\nsaid before, that it is not men of genius who\\nmove the world and take the lead in it, so\\nmuch as men of steadfastness, purpose and\\nindefatigable industry. Notwithstanding the\\nmany undeniable instances of the precocity\\nof men of genius, it is nevertheless true that\\nearly cleverness gives no indication of the\\nheight to which the grown man will reach.\\nPrecocity is sometimes a symptom of disease\\nrather than of intellectual vigor.\\nWhat becomes of all the remarkably\\nclever children? Where are the prodigies\\nand prize-boys? Trace them through life,,\\nand it will frequently be found that the dull\\nboys, who were beaten at school, have shot\\nahead of them. The clever boys are re-\\nwarded, but the prizes which they gain by\\ntheir greater quickness and facility do not\\nalways prove of use to them. What ought\\nrather to be rewarded is the endeavor, the\\nstruggle and the obedience; for it is the\\nyouth who does his best, though endowed\\nwith an inferiority of natural powers, that\\nought above all others to be encouraged.\\nAn interesting chapter might be written", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0136.jp2"}, "137": {"fulltext": "The Royal Road.\\nOne step I see before me\\nTis all I need to see\\nThe light of heaven more brightlyS^J\\nshines\\nWhen earth s illusions flee,\\nAnd sweetly through the silence comes\\nHis loving Follow Me.\\nWhere He may lead I ll follow.\\nMy trust in Him repose,\\nAnd every hour in perfect peac\\nI ll sina, He knows H;- tvnws.\\ni\\nof wisdom,\\nsed not to know\\nne with His own right han(?\\nnot let me go,\\nny troubled soul to rest\\nwho loves me so.\\nv3u uii J- K not knowing\\nI would not if I might\\nI d rather walk in the dark with God\\nThan go alone in the light\\nI d rather walk by faith with Him\\nThan go alone by sight.\\nMary G. Brainari", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0137.jp2"}, "138": {"fulltext": "106\\nTHE ROYAL ROAD TO SUCCESS.\\non the subject of illustrious dunces dull\\nboys, but brilliant men. We have room,\\nhowever, for only a few instances. Isaac\\nNewton, when at school, stood at the bot-\\ntom of the lowest form but one. The boy\\nabove Newton having kicked him, the dunce\\nshowed his pluck by challenging him to a\\nfight, and beat him. Then he set to work\\nwith a will, and determined also to vanquish\\nhis antagonist as a scholar, which he did,\\nrising to the top of his class.\\nBrilliant Dunces.\\nMany of our greatest divines have been\\nanything but precocious. Isaac Barrow,\\nwhen a boy at the Charterhouse School,\\nwas notorious chiefly for his strong temper,\\npugnacious habits, and proverbial idleness\\nas a scholar; and he caused such grief to\\nhis parents that his father used to say that,\\nif it pleased God to take from him any of\\nhis children, he hoped it might be Isaac, the\\nleast promising of them all. Adam Clarke,\\nwhen a boy, was proclaimed by his father to\\nbe a grievous dunce; though he could\\nroll large stones about. The well-known\\nDr. Chalmers and Dr. Cook, late Professor\\nof Moral Philosophy at St. Andrew s, were\\nboys together at the parish school; and they\\nwere found so stupid and mischievous, that\\nthe master, irritated beyond measure, dis-\\nmissed them both as incorrigible dunces.\\nThe brilliant Sheridan showed so little\\ncapacity as a boy, that he was presented to\\na tutor by his mother with the compHmen-\\ntary accompaniment that he was an incor-\\nrigible dunce. Walter Scott was all but a\\ndunce when a boy. At the Edinburgh Uni-\\nversity, Professor Dalzell pronounced upon\\nhim the sentence that Dunce he was, and\\ndunce he would remain. Chatterton was\\nreturned on his mother s hands as a fool,\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0of whom nothing could be made. Burns\\nwas a dull boy, good only at athletic exer-\\ncises. Goldsmith spoke of himself as a\\nplant that flowered late. Alfieri left college\\nno wiser than he entered it, and did not\\nbegin the studies by which he distinguished\\nhimself until he had run half over Europe.\\nRobert Clive was a dunce, if not a repro-\\nbate, when a youth but always full of energy,\\neven in badness. His family, glad to get rid\\nof him, shipped him off to Madras and he\\nlived to lay the foundations of the British\\npower in India. Napoleon and Wellington\\nwere both dull boys, not distinguishing them-\\nselves in any way at school. A writer ob-\\nserves that the Duke s talents seem never\\nto have developed themselves until some\\nactive and practical field for their display\\nwas placed immediately before him. He\\nwas long described by his Spartan mother,\\nwho thought him a dunce, as only food for\\npowder. He gained no sort of distinction,\\neither at Eton or at the French Military Col-\\nlege of Angers. It is not improbable that a\\ncompetitive examination, at this da) might\\nhave excluded him from the army.\\nGrant and Stonewall Jackson.\\nUlysses Grant, the commander-in-chief of\\nthe Federal army, was called Useless Grant\\nby his mother he was so dull and unhandy\\nwhen a boy; and Stonewall Jackson, Lee s\\ngreatest lieutenant, was, in his youth, chiefly\\nnoted for his slowness. While a pupil at\\nWest Point Military Academy he was, how-\\never, equally remarkable for his indefatigable\\napplication and perseverance. When a task\\nwas set him, he never left it until he had\\nmastered it nor did he ever feign to possess\\nknowledge which he had not entirely ac-\\nquired. Again and again, wfote one who\\nknew him, when called upon to answer\\nquestions in the recitation oi the day, he\\nwould reply: I have not looked at it; I", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0138.jp2"}, "139": {"fulltext": "THE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\n107\\nhave been engaged in mastering the recita-\\ntion of yesterday or the day before. The\\nresult was that he graduated seventeenth in\\na class of seventy. There was probably in\\nthe whole class not a boy to whom Jackson\\nat the outset was not inferior in knowledge\\nand attainments; but at the end of the race\\nhe had only sixteen before him, and had out-\\nstripped no fewer than fifty-three. It used\\nto be said of him by his contemporaries, that\\nif the course had been for ten years instead\\nof four, Jackson would have graduated at\\nthe head of his class.\\nThe Swift Tortoise.\\nJohn Howard, the philanthropist, was\\nanother illustrious dunce, learning next to\\nnothing during the seven years that he was\\nat school. The brilliant Sir Humphry Davy\\nwas no cleverer than other boys his teacher,\\nDr. Cardew, once said of him: While he\\nwas with me I could not discern the faculties\\nby which he was so much distinguished.\\nIndeed, Davy himself in after life considered\\nit fortunate that he had been left to enjoy\\nso much idleness at school. Watt was a\\ndull scholar, notwithstanding the stories told\\nabout his precocity; but he was, what was\\nbetter, patient and perseverant, and it was by\\nsuch qualities, and by his carefully cultivated\\ninventiveness, that he was enabled to perfect\\nhis steam-engine.\\nWhat Dr. Arnold said of boys is equally\\ntrue of men that the difference between one\\nboy and another consists not so much in\\ntalent as in energy. Given perseverance, and\\nenergy soon becomes habitual. Provided\\nthe dunce has persistency and application,\\nhe will inevitably head the cleverer fellow\\nwithout those qualities. Slow but sure wins\\nthe race. It is perseverance that explams\\nhow the positions of boys at school are so\\noften reversed in real life and it is curious\\nto note how some who were then so clever\\nhave since become so commonplace while\\nothers, dull boys, of whom nothing was\\nexpected, slow in their faculties but sure in\\ntheir pace, have assumed the position of\\nleaders of men.\\nThe tortoise in the right road will beat a\\nracer in the wrong. It matters not, though\\na youth be slow, if he be but diligent.\\nQuickness of parts may even prove a defect,-\\ninasmuch as the boy who learns readily will\\noften forget as readily and also because he\\nfinds no need of cultivating that quality of\\napplication and perseverance which the slower\\nyouth is compelled to exercise, and which\\nproves so valuable an element in the forma-\\ntion of every character. Davy said, What\\nI am I have made myself; and the same\\nholds true universally.\\nTo conclude: the best culture is not\\nobtained from teachers when at school or\\ncollege, so much as by our own diligent\\nself-education when we have become men.\\nHence parents need not be in too great haste\\nto see their children s talents forced into\\nbloom. Let them watch and wait patiently,\\nletting good example and quiet training do\\ntheir work, and leave the rest to Providence.\\nLet them see to it that the youth is provided,\\nby free exercise of his bodily powers, with a\\nfull stock of physical health set him fairly\\non the road of self-culture; carefully train\\nhis habits of application and perseverance\\nand as he grows older, if the right stuff be in\\nhim, he will be enabled vigorously and\\neffectively to cultivate himself, and make\\nsure of success.\\nk", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0139.jp2"}, "140": {"fulltext": "108\\nMANUAL TRAINING SCHOOL,\\n4", "height": "3450", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0140.jp2"}, "141": {"fulltext": "CHAPTBR VI.\\nTHE SCHOOL OF EVERYDAY LIFE.\\nOU may go to school all your\\nlife and yet be a dunce. Your\\nhead may be a library stuffed\\nwith book knowledge, yet you\\nmay not know enough to hoe\\na hill of beans. You may lack\\nthat practical wisdom and tact which make\\na success of life. You may be like the man\\nwho invented a folding-bed, got shut up in\\nit, set to work to invent a way to get out,\\nwhile his wife with hammer and saw liberated\\nhim just as he was about smothering to\\ndeath. You may have talents bright as the\\nsun, yet be dependent on very ordinary\\npeople. You may be a know-everything and\\na do-nothing.\\nIt is well to have knowledge and be famous\\nfor learning and general information. If\\nsuccess came from the knowing, you would\\nbe fortunate. The world is full of learned\\ndunces. They can expound politics, foretell\\nthe weather, quote history, spin theories as\\nlong as an ocean cable, discourse on phil-\\nosophy and religion, be reckoned as men of\\nwonderful attainments, and live on what their\\nwives earn by doing washing for their\\nneighbors.\\nYou may be a very successful dreamer\\nand theorizer, yet in practical life bread-\\nand-butter life you may be a big failure\\na failure even compared with the dusky boot-\\nblack around the corner who can shine a\\npair of shoes and do it well. This is not\\nsaying knowledge and education are of no\\naccount it is saying that you may lack a\\ncertain tact, a power of applying what you\\nknow, and may utterly fail in the practical\\nwork of hfe.\\nWho learns and learns, but acts not what he knows,\\nIs one who ploughs and ploughs, but never sows.\\nThe world will not start of itself and go\\nfor you. You must make it go. It will not\\nturn round while you look on and do noth-\\ning. It will turn round if you are at the\\ncrank to make it turn. And you must know\\nhow to do the turning. Do not stand still\\nand look on you may stand and stare until\\nthe heavens roll together and be no better\\nfor it. You cannot save your linen it will\\nget soiled. Never mind, but roll up your\\nsleeves and go at it. Better soiled linen than\\nnone at all. You cannot play the gentle-\\nman if you ever expect to accomplish any-\\nthing of importance. Of all the big fortunes\\nin New York, Philadelphia, Chicago and\\nother cities, every one was made by hard\\nwork and horny hands; not one would\\nknow a pair of kid gloves without an intro-\\nduction.\\nYou Must Face the Hard Facts.\\nWe have been speaking of practical\\nwisdom, and practical wisdom is only to be\\nlearned in the school of experience. Pre-\\ncepts and instructions are useful so far as\\nthey go, but, without the discipline of real\\nlife, they remain of the nature of theory onlyo\\nThe hard facts of existence have to be faced,\\nto give that touch of truth to character which\\ncan never be imparted by reading or tuition,\\nbut only by contact with the broad instincts\\nof common men and women.\\n109", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0141.jp2"}, "142": {"fulltext": "no\\nTHE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\nTo be worth anything, character must be\\ncapable of standing firm upon its feet in the\\nworld of daily work, temptation, and trial;\\nand able to bear the wear-and-tear of actual\\nlife. Cloistered virtues do not count for\\nmuch. The life that rejoices in solitude may\\nbe only rejoicing in selfishness. Seclusion\\nmay indicate contempt for others; though\\nmore usually it means indolence, cowardice,\\nor self-indulgence. To every human being\\nbelongs his fair share of manful toil and\\nhuman duty and it cannot be shirked with-\\nout loss to the individual himself, as well as\\nto the community to which he belongs.\\nYou Must Know Yourself.\\nIt is only by mixing in the daily life of the\\nworld, and taking part in its affairs, that\\npractical knowledge can be acquired and\\nwisdom learned. It is there that we find\\nour chief sphere of duty, that we learn the\\ndiscipline of work, and that we educate\\nourselves in that patience, diligence, and\\nendurance which shape and consolidate the\\ncharacter. There we encounter the diffi-\\nculties, trials, and temptations which, accord-\\ning as we deal with them, give a color to\\nour entire after-life and there, too, we\\nbecome subject to the great discipline of\\nsuffering, from which we learn far more than\\nfrom the safe seclusion of the study or the\\ncloister.\\nContact with others is also requisite to\\nenable a man to know himself. It is only\\nby mixing freely in the world that one can\\nform a proper estimate of his own capacity.\\nWithout such experience, one is apt to be-\\ncome conceited, puffed up, and arrogant; at\\nall events, he will remain ignorant of him-\\nself, though he may heretofore have enjoyed\\nno other company.\\nSwift once said It is an uncontroverted\\ntruth, that no man ever made an ill-figure\\nwho understood his own talents, nor a good\\none who mistook them. Many persons,\\nhowever, are readier to take measure of the\\ncapacity of others than of themselves.\\nBring him to me, said a certain Dr.\\nTronchin, of Geneva, speaking of Rous-\\nseau bring him to me, that I may see\\nwhether he has got anything in him!\\nthe probability being that Rousseau, who\\nknew himself better, was much more likely\\nto take measure of Tronchin than Tronchin\\nwas to take measure of him.\\nA due amount of self-knowledge is, there-\\nfore, necessary for those who would be any-\\nthing or do anything in the world. It is\\nalso one of the first essentials to the forma-\\ntion of distinct personal convictions. Fred-\\nerick Perthes once said to a young friend,\\nYou know only too well what you can do;\\nbut till you have learned what you cannot\\ndo, you will neither accomplish anything of\\nmoment nor know inward peace.\\nThe Value of Common Sense.\\nAny one who would profit by experience\\nwill never be above asking help. He who\\nthinks himself already too wise to learn of\\nothers, will never succeed in doing anything\\neither good or great. We have to keep our\\nminds and hearts open, and never be ashamed\\nto learn, with the assistance of those who\\nare wiser and more experienced than our-\\nselves.\\nThe man made wise by experience en-\\ndeavors to judge correctly of the things\\nwhich come under his observation, and form\\nthe subject of his daily life. What we call\\ncommon sense is, for the most part, but the\\nresult of common experience wisely improved.\\nNor is great ability necessary to acquire it,\\nso much as patience, accuracy and watchful-\\nness. Hazlitt thought the most sensible\\npeople to be met with are intelligent mea", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0142.jp2"}, "143": {"fulltext": "THE SCHOOL OF EVERYDAY LIFE.\\nIll\\nof business and of the world, who argue\\nfrom what they see and know, instead of\\nspinning cobweb distinctions of what things\\nought to be.\\nThe Tact of Women.\\nFor the same reason, women often display-\\nmore good sense than men, having fewer\\npretensions, and judging of things naturally,\\nby the involuntary impression they make on\\nthe mind. Their intuitive powers are quicker,\\ntheir perceptions more acute, their sympathies\\nmore lively, and their manners more adaptive\\nto particular ends. Hence their greater tact\\nas displayed in the management of others,\\nwomen of apparently slender intellectual\\npowers often contriving to control and regu-\\nlate the conduct of men of even the most\\nimpracticable nature. Pope paid a high\\ncompliment to the tact and good sense of\\nMary, Queen of William HI, when he de-\\nscribed her as possessing, not a science, but\\n(what was worth all else) prudence.\\nThe whole of life may be regarded as a\\ngreat school of experience, in which men and\\nwomen are the pupils. As in a school, many\\nof the lessons learned there must needs be\\ntaken on trust. We may not understand\\nthem, and may possibly think it hard that\\nwe have to learn them, especially where the\\nteachers are trials, sorrows, temptations and\\ndifficulties; and yet we must not only accept\\ntheir lessons, but recognize them as being\\ndivinely appointed.\\nTo what extent have the pupils profited\\nby their experience in the school of life?\\nWhat advantage have they taken of their\\nopportunities for learning? What have they\\ngained in discipline of heart and mind?\\nhow much in growth of wisdom, courage,\\nself-control? Have they preserved their\\nintegrity amidst prosperity, and enjoyed life\\nin temperance and moderation? Or, has life\\nbeen with them a mere feast of selfishness,,\\nwithout care or thought for others? What\\nhave they learned from trial and adversity?\\nHave they learned patience, submission and-\\ntrust in God? Or have they learned nothing,\\nbut impatience, querulousness and discon-\\ntent?\\nThe results of experience are, of course,,\\nonly to be achieved by living; and living is\\na question of time. The man of experience-\\nlearns to rely upon time as his helper.\\nTime and I against any two, was a maxim\\nof Cardinal Mazarin. Time has been de-\\nscribed as a beautifier and as a consoler;\\nbut it is also a teacher. It is the food of\\nexperience, the soil of wisdom. It may be\\nthe friend or the enemy of youth; and time\\nwill sit beside the old as a consoler or as a\\ntormentor, accordmg as it has been used or\\nmisused, and the past life has been well or\\nill spent.\\nIns Web of Time.\\nCeaselessly the weaver, Time,\\nSitteth at his mj stic loom.\\nKeeps his arrowy shuttle flying\\nEvery thread anears our dying\\nAnd with melancholy chime,\\nVery low and sad withal,\\nSings his solemn madrigal\\nAs he weaves our web of doom.\\nMortals thus he, weaving, sings,\\nBright or dark the web shall be,\\nAs ye will it, all the tissues\\nBlending in harmonious issues\\nOr discordant colorings\\nTime the shuttle drives, but you\\nGive to every thread its hue,\\nAnd elect your destiny.\\nW. H. BURI,EIGH.\\nMaking the Most of To-Day.\\nFor To-day the lists are set, and thou must bear thee\\nbravely.\\nTilting for honor, duty, life or death without re-\\nproach\\nTo-day is the trial of thy fortitude, O dauntless\\nMandan chief", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0143.jp2"}, "144": {"fulltext": "112\\nTHE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\nTo-day is thy watch, O sentinel to-day thy reprieve,\\nO captive-,\\nWhat more? To-day is the golden chance -where-\\nwith to snatch fruition.\\nBe glad, grateful, temperate there are asps among\\nthe figs.\\nFor the potter s clay is in thy hands, to mould it or\\nto mar it at thy will.\\nOr idly to leave it in the sun, an uncouth lump to\\nharden.\\nbright presence of To-day, let me wrestle with\\nthee, gracious angel\\n1 will not let thee go except thou bless me bless\\nme, then. To-day;\\nsweet garden of To-day, let me gather of thee,\\nprecious Eden\\n1 have stolen bitter knowledge, give me fruits of life\\nTo-day\\ntrue temple of To-day, let me worship in thee,\\nglorious Zion\\n1 find none other place nor time than where I am\\nTo-day,\\nliving rescue of To-day, let me run unto thee, ark\\nof refuge\\n1 see none other hope nor chance, but standeth in\\nTo-day\\nrich banquet of To-day, let me feast upon thee,\\nsaving manna\\n1 have none other food nor store, but daily bread\\nTo-day\\nM. V. TUPPER.\\nHow to Meet Discouragements.\\nTo the young, how bright the new world\\nlootcs! how full of novelty, of enjoyment,\\nof pleasure! But as years pass, we find the\\nworld to be a place of sorrow as well as of\\njoy. As we proceed through life, many\\ndark vistas open upon us of toil, suffering,\\ndifficulty, perhaps misfortune and failure.\\nHappy they who can pass through and\\namidst such trials with a firm mind and\\npure heart, encountering trials with cheer-\\nfulness, and standing erect beneath even the\\nheaviest burden!\\nA little youthful ardor is a great help in\\nlife, and is useful as an energetic motive-\\npower. It is gradually cooled down by\\ntime, no matter how glowing it has been.\\nwhile it is trained and subdued by expe-\\nrience. But it is a healthy and hopeful\\nindication of character to be encouraged\\nin a right direction, and not to be sneered\\ndown and repressed. It is a sign of a\\nvigorous, unselfish nature, as egotism is of\\na narrow and selfish one; and to begin life\\nwith egotism and self-sufficiency is fatal to\\nall breadth and vigor of character. Life,\\nin such a case, would be like a year in which\\nthere was no spring.\\nThe Spring-Time of Life.\\nWithout a generous seed-time, there will\\nbe an unflowering summer and an unpro-\\nductive harvest. And youth is the spring-\\ntime of life, in which, if there be not a fair\\nshare of enthusiasm, little will be attempted,\\nand still less done. It also considerably\\nhelps the working quality, inspiring confi-\\ndence and hope, and carrying c^=i through\\nthe dry details of business and duty with\\ncheerfulness and joy.\\nJoseph Lancaster, when a boy only four-\\nteen years of age, formed the resolution ot\\nleaving his home and going out to the West\\nIndies to teach the poor blacks to read the\\nBible. And he actually set out with a Bible\\nand Pilgrim s Progress in his bundle, and\\nonly a few shillings in his purse. He even\\nsucceeded in reaching the West Indies, doubt-\\nless very much at a loss how to set about\\nhis proposed work; but in the mean time\\nhis distressed parents, having discovered\\nwhither he had gone, had him speedily\\nbrought back, yet with his enthusiasm\\nunabated; and from that time forward he\\nunceasingly devoted himself to the truly\\nphilanthropic work of educating the desitute\\npoor.\\nHe was only twenty years of age when he\\nopened his first school in a spare room in his\\nfather s house, which was soon filled with the", "height": "3472", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0144.jp2"}, "145": {"fulltext": "THE SCHOOL OF EVERYDAY LIFE.\\n113\\ndestitute children of the neighborhood. The\\nroom was shortly found too small for the\\nnumbers seeking admission, and one place\\nafter another was hired, until at length Lan-\\ncaster had a special building erected, capable\\nof accommodating a thousand pupils, outside\\nof which was placed the following notice:\\nAll that will, may send their children here\\nand have them educated freely; and those\\nthat do not wish to have education for noth-\\ning may pay for it, if they please.\\nPerseverance of Columbus.\\nThere needs all the force that enthusiasm\\ncan give to enable a man to succeed in any\\ngreat enterprise of life. Without it, the ob-\\nstruction and difiticulty he has to encounter\\non every side might compel him to succumb\\nbut with courage and perseverance, inspired\\nby enthusiasm, a man feels strong enough to\\nface any danger, to grapple with any diffi-\\nculty. What an enthusiasm was that of\\nColumbus, who, believing in the existeaice of\\na new world, braved the dangers of unknown\\nseas and when those about him despaired\\nand rose up against him, threatening to cast\\nhim into the sea, still stood firm upon his\\nhope and courage until the great new world\\nat length rose upon the horizon\\nThe brave man will not be baffled, but\\ntries and tries again until he succeeds. The\\ntree does not fall at the first stroke, but only\\nby repeated strokes and after great labor.\\nWe may see the visible success at which a\\nman has arrived, but forget the toil and\\nsuffering and peril through which it has been\\nachieved. When a friend of Marshal Lefevre\\nwas complim enting him on his possessions\\nand good fortune, the marshal said You\\nenvy me, do you? Well, you shall have\\nthese things at a better bargain than I had.\\nCome into the field I ll fire at you with a\\ngun twenty times at thirty paces, and if I\\ndon t kill you, all shall be your own. What!:\\nyou won t! Very well; recollect, then, that\\nI have been shot at more than a thousand-\\ntimes, and much nearer, before I arrived ati\\nthe state in which you now find me\\nThe apprenticeship of difficulty is orre-\\nwhich the greatest of men have had to serve.\\nIt is usually the best stimulus and discipline-\\nof character. It often evokes powers of\\naction that, but for it, would have remained!\\ndormant. As comets are sometimes revealed\\nby eclipses, so heroes are brought to light\\nby sudden calamity. It seems as if, in cer-\\ntain case.-,, genius, like iron struck by the\\nflint, needed the sharp and sudden blow of\\nadversity to bring out the divine spark.\\nThere are natures which blossom and ripen\\namidst trials, which would only wither and\\ndecay in an atmosphere of ease and comfort.\\nDifficulties are Blessings.\\nThus it is good for men to be roused into\\naction and stiffened into self-reliance by\\ndifficulty, rather than to slumber away their\\nlives in useless apathy and indolence. It is\\nthe struggle that is the condition of victory.\\nIf there were no difficulties, there would be no\\nneed of efforts if there were no temptations,\\nthere would be no training in self-control,\\nand but httle merit in virtue; if there were\\nno trial and suffering, there would be no\\neducation in patience and resignation. Thus\\ndifficulty, adversity, and suffering are not all\\nevil, but often the best source of strength,\\ndiscipline, and virtue.\\nFor the same reason, it is often of advan-\\ntage for a man to be under the necessity of\\nhaving to struggle with poverty and conquer\\nit. He who has battled, says Carlyle,\\nwere it only with poverty and hard toil,\\nwill be found stronger and more expert than\\nhe who could stay at home from the battle,\\nconcealed among the provision wagons, or", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0145.jp2"}, "146": {"fulltext": "114\\nTHE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\neven rest unwatchfully abiding by the\\nstuff.\\nScholars have found poverty tolerable\\ncompared with the privation of intellectual\\nfood. Riches weigh much more heavily\\nupon the mind. I cannot but say to pov-\\nerty, said Richter, Be welcome so that\\nthou come not too late in life.\\nPoverty Makes the World Rich.\\nThe Spaniards are even said to have\\nmeanly rejoiced in the poverty of Cervantes,\\nbut for which they supposed the production\\naf his great works might have been pre-\\nvented. When the Archbishop of Toledo\\nvisited the French ambassador at Madrid,\\nthe gentlemen in the suite of the latter\\nexpressed their high admiration of the writ-\\nings of the author of Don Quixote, and\\nintimated their desire of .becoming acquainted\\nwith one who had given them so much\\npleasure. The answer they received was,\\nthat Cervantes had borne arms in the service\\nof his country, and was now old and poor.\\nWhat exclaimed one of the Frenchmen,\\nis not Sefior Cervantes in good circum-\\nstances Why is he not maintained, then,\\nout of the public treasury? Heaven\\nforbid! was the reply, that his necessities\\nshould be ever relieved, if it is those which\\nmake him write since it is his poverty that\\nmakes the world rich\\nIt is not prosperity so much as adversity,\\nnot wealth so much as poverty, that stimu-\\nlates the perseverance of strong and healthy\\nnatures, rouses their energy and develops\\ntheir character. Burke said of himself: I\\nwas not rocked and swaddled and dandled\\ninto a legislator. I strive against opposi-\\ntion is the motto for a man like you.\\nSome men only require a great difficulty set\\nin their way to exhibit the force of their\\ncharacter and genius and that difficulty,\\nonce conquered, becomes one of the greatest\\nincentives to their farther progress.\\nIt is a mistake to suppose that men suc-\\nceed through success; they much oftener\\nsucceed through failure. Soon after Dr.\\nStephen H. Tyng took charge of his first\\nchurch in North Carolina he was to have a\\nnumber of prominent men, lawyers, judges\\nand others, in his congregation one Sabbath\\nmorning, and attempted, as usual, to deliver\\nan unwritten sermon. The result was a flat\\nfailure. On the way home his wife said,\\nI trust you will now give up the idea\\nof ever becoming an extempore preacher;\\nbetter stick to your notes. The prompt,\\nemphatic reply was, I will become an\\nextempore speaker. The early failures\\nended in brilliant successes, and afterward\\nfor many years, while settled in New York,\\nDr. Tyng was considered the most gifted\\nand eloquent platform orator of his time.\\nOn every great occasion his presence was\\neagerly sought, and thousands hung upon\\nhis lips with delight. He was a man whom\\nfailures could not defeat.\\nSuccess Through Failure.\\nBy far the best experience of men is made\\nup of their remembered failures in dealing\\nwith others in the affairs of life. Such fail-\\nures, in sensible men, incite to better self-\\nmanagement, and greater tact and self-con-\\ntrol, as a means of avoiding them in the\\nfuture. Ask the diplomatist, and he will tell\\nyou that he has learned his art through\\nbeing baffled, defeated, thwarted and cir-\\ncumvented, far more than from having suc-\\nceeded. Precept, study, advice and example\\ncould never have taught them so well as\\nfailure has done. It has disciplined them\\nexperimentally, and taught them what to do\\nas well as what not to do which is often\\nstill more important.\\ni", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0146.jp2"}, "147": {"fulltext": "Grandmother s Thoughts.\\nHAT happy thoughts are flitting 1 Ah tis just the same old story,\\n(While Grandmamma sits knitting) She is giving Christ the glory\\nThroughout the aged heart still true and strong For the mercies which have blessed her life so 1\\nFor like stitches on my needles, says this happy Grandma Gray,\\nSo He multiplies my blessings and increases them each day.\\n115", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0147.jp2"}, "148": {"fulltext": "116\\nTHE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\nMany have to make up their minds to\\nencounter failure again and again before they\\nsucceed; but if they have pluck, the failure\\nwill only serve to rouse their courage, and\\nstimulate them to renewed efforts. Talma,\\nthe greatest of actors, was hissed off the\\nstage when he first appeared on it. Lacor-\\ndaire, one of the greatest preachers of mod-\\nern times, only acquired celebrity after re-\\npeated failures. Montalembert said of his\\nfirst public appearance in the Church of St.\\nRoch He failed completely, and, on com-\\ning out, every one said, Though he may be\\na man of talent, he will never be a preacher.\\nAgain and again he tried, until he succeeded;\\nand only two years after his first appearance,\\nLacordaire was preaching in Notre Dame to\\naudiences such as few French orators have\\naddressed since the time of Bossuet and\\nMassillon.\\nRising Above Failures.\\nWhen Mr. Cobden first appeared as a\\nspeaker, at a public meeting in Manchester\\nhe completely broke down, and the chair-\\nman apologized for his failure. Sir James\\nGraham and Mr. Disraeli failed and were\\nderided at first, and only succeeded by dint\\nof great labor and application. At one time\\nSir James Graham had almost given up\\npublic speaking in despair. He said to his\\nfriend Sir Francis Baring: I have tried it\\n.every way extempore, from notes, and\\ncommitting all to memory and I can t\\ndo it. I don t know why it is, but I am\\nafraid I shall never succeed. Yet, by dint\\nof perseverance, Graham, like Disraeli, lived\\nto become one of the most effective and im-\\npressive parliamentary speakers.\\nFailures in one direction have sometimes\\nhad the effect of forcing the far-seeing stu-\\ndent to apply himself in another. When\\nBoileau, educated for the bar, pleaded his\\nfirst cause, he broke down amidst shouts ol\\nlaughter. He next tried the pulpit, and\\nfailed there too. And then he tried poetry,\\nand succeeded. Fontenelle and Voltaire\\nboth failed at the bar. So Cowper, through\\nhis diffidence and shyness, broke down when\\npleading his first cause, though he lived to\\nrevive the poetic art in England. Montes-\\nquieu and Bentham both failed as lawyers,\\nand forsook the bar for more congenial pur-\\nsuits the latter leaving behind him a treas-\\nury of legislative procedure for all time.\\nGoldsmith failed in passing as a surgeon;\\nbut he wrote the Deserted Village and\\nthe Vicar of Wakefield.\\nThe Blind Chaplain.\\nEven the privation of some important\\nbodily sense, such as sight or hearing, has\\nnot been sufficient to deter courageous men\\nfrom zealously pursuing the struggle of life.\\nMilton, when struck by blindness, still bore\\nup and steered right onward. His greatest\\nworks were produced during that period of\\nhis life in which he suffered most when he\\nwas poor, sick, old, blind, slandered and\\npersecuted.\\nRev. W. H. Milburn was blind from early\\nchildhood, yet this did not prevent him from\\nbecoming one of the most popular preachers\\nin America. By his retentive memory he\\ncould repeat a considerable part of the Bible,\\nand in the pulpit would repeat long chapters\\ninstead of reading them as preachers do who\\nhave eyesight. His remarkable gifts ele-\\nvated him to the chaplaincy of the House of\\nRepresentatives at Washington, and after-\\nward to that of the Senate. Obstacles that\\nmany persons would consider insurmountable\\nonly spur on a man of will and perseverance,\\nand often such men achieve greater distinc-\\ntion than they do wl .o have everything in\\ntheir favor.", "height": "3449", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0148.jp2"}, "149": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0149.jp2"}, "150": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0150.jp2"}, "151": {"fulltext": "THE SCHOOL OF EVERYDAY LIFE.\\n117\\nThe lives of some of the greatest men\\nhave been a continuous struggle with diffi-\\nculty and apparent defeat. Dante produced\\nhis greatest work in penury and exile. Ban-\\nished from his native city by the local faction\\nto which he was opposed, his house was\\ngiven up to plunder, and he was sentenced,\\nin his absence, to be burned alive. When\\ninformed by a friend that he might return to\\nFlorence, if he would consent to ask for\\npardon and absolution, he replied: No!\\nThis is not the way that shall lead me back\\nto my country. I will return with hasty\\nsteps if you, or any other,, can open to me a\\nway that shall not derogate from the fame or\\nthe honor of Dante but if by no such way\\nFlorence can be entered, then to Florence I\\nshall never return. His enemies remaining\\nimplacable, Dante, after a banishment of\\ntwenty years, died in exile.\\nDisastrous Adventures.\\nCamoens also wrote his great poems\\nmostly in banishment. Tired of solitude at\\nSantarem, he joined an expedition against\\nthe Moors, in which he distinguished himself\\nby his bravery. He lost an eye when board-\\ning an enemy s ship in a sea-fight. At Goa,\\nin the East Indies, he witnessed with indig-\\nnation the cruelty practised by the Portu-\\nguese on the natives, and expostulated with\\nthe governor against it. He was in conse-\\nquence banished from the settlement, and\\nsent to China. In the course of his subse-\\nquent adventures and misfortunes, Camoens\\nsuffered shipwreck, escaping only with his\\nlife and the manuscript of his Lusiad.\\nPersecution and hardship seemed everywhere\\nto pursue him. At Macao he was thrown\\ninto prison. Escaping from it, he set sail\\nfor Lisbon, where he arrived, after sixteen\\nyears absence, poor and friendless. His\\nLusiad, which was shortly after pub-\\nlished, brought him much fame, but no\\nmoney.\\nBut for his old Indian slave Antonio, who\\nbegged for his master in the streets, Camoens\\nmust have perished. As it was he died in a\\npublic alms-house, worn out by disease and\\nhardship. An inscription was placed over\\nhis grave Here Hes Luis de Camoens\\nhe excelled all the poets of his time he\\nlived poor and miserable and he died so.\\nThis record, disgraceful but truthful, has\\nsince been removed and a lying and pomp-\\nous epitaph, in honor of the great national\\npoet of Portugal, has been substituted in its\\nstead.\\nMen of Spite and Meanness.\\nTasso, also, was the victim of almost con-\\ntinual persecution and calumny. After lying\\nin a mad-house for seven years, he became\\na wanderer over Italy and when on his\\ndeath-bed, he wrote I will not complain\\nof the malignity of fortune, because I do not\\nchoose to speak of the ingratitude of men\\nwho have succeeded in dragging me to the\\ntomb of a mendicant.\\nBut time brings about strange revenges.\\nThe persecutors and the persecuted often\\nchange places it is the latter who are great\\nthe former who are infamous. Even the\\nnames of the persecutors would probably\\nlong ago have been forgotten, but for their\\nconnection with the history of the men whom\\nthey have persecuted. Thus, who would\\nnow have known of Duke Alfonso of Ferrara,\\nbut for his imprisonment of Tasso Or,\\nwho would have heard of the existence of\\nthe Grand Duke of Wurtemburg of some\\nhundred years back, but for his petty perse-\\ncution of Schiller\\nScience also has had its martyrs, who\\nhave fought their way to light through diffi-\\nculty, persecution, and suffering. We need", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0151.jp2"}, "152": {"fulltext": "118\\nTHE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\nnot refer again to the cases of Bruno, Galileo,\\nand others, persecuted because of the sup-\\nposed heterodoxy of their views. But there\\nhave been other unfortunates among men of\\nscience, whose genius has been unable to\\nsave them from the fury of their enemies.\\nPriestley s House was Burned.\\nThus Bailly, the celebrated French astron-\\nomer (who had been mayor of Paris), and\\nLavoisier, the great chemist, were both guil-\\nlotined in the first French Revolution. When\\nthe latter, after being sentenced to death by\\nthe Commune, asked for a few days respite,\\nto enable him to ascertain the result of some\\nexperiments he had made during his confine-\\nment, the tribunal refused his appeal, and\\nordered him for immediate execution, one of\\nthe judges saying that the Republic had\\nno need of philosophers. In England also,\\nabout the same time, Dr. Priestle}^, the\\nfather of modern chemistry, had his house\\nburned over his head, and his library de-\\nstroyed, amidst shouts of No philosophers\\nand he fled from his native country to lay\\nhis bones in a foreign land.\\nThe work of some of the greatest discov-\\nerers has been done in the midst of persecu-\\ntion, difficulty and suffering. Columbus,\\nwho discovered the New World and g.ive it\\nas a heritage to the Old, was in his lifetime\\npersecuted, maligned and plundered by those\\nwhom he had enriched. Mungo Park s\\ndrowning agony in the African river he had\\ndiscovered, but which he was not to live to\\ndescribe; Clapperton s perishing of fever on\\nthe banks of the great lake, in the heart of\\nthe same continent, which was afterwards to\\nbe rediscovered and described by other ex-\\nplorers; Franklin s perishing in the snow\\nit might be after he had solved the long-\\nsought problem of the Northwest Passage\\nare among the most melancholy events in\\nthe history of enterprise and genius. Suc^\\ncess and suffering often go together.\\nCourageous men have often turned en-\\nforced solitude to account in executing\\nworks of great pith and moment. It is in\\nsolitude that the passion for spiritual per-\\nfection best nurses itself. The soul com-\\nmunes with itself in loneliness until its\\nenergy often becomes intense. But whether\\na man profits by solitude or not will mainly\\ndepend upon his own temperament, training\\nand character. While, in a large-natured\\nman, solitude will make the pure heart\\npurer, in the small-natured man it will only\\nserve to make the hard heart still harder;\\nfor though solitude may be the nurse of\\ngreat spirits, it is the torment of small\\nones.\\nJohn Bunyan in Jail.\\nDuring his thirteen years imprisonment in\\nthe Tower, Raleigh wrote his History of\\nthe World, a project of vast extent, of\\nwhich he was only able to finish the first\\nfive books. Luther occupied his prison\\nhours in the Castle of Wartburg in trans-\\nlating the Bible, and in writing the famous\\ntracts and treatises with which he inundated\\nall Germany.\\nIt was to the circumstance of John\\nBunyan having been cast into jail that we\\nprobably owe the Pilgrim s Progress. He\\nwas thus driven in upon himself; having no\\nopportunity for action, his active mind found\\nvent in earnest thinking and meditation; and\\nindeed, after his liberation, his life as an\\nauthor virtually ceased. His Grace\\nAbounding and the Holy War were\\nalso Avritten in prison. Bunyan lay in\\nBedford Jail, with a few intervals of pre-\\ncarious liberty, during not less than twelve\\nyears; and it was most probably to his\\nprolonged imprisonment that Ave owe what", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0152.jp2"}, "153": {"fulltext": "THE SCHOOL OF EVERYDAY LIFE.\\n119\\nMacaulay has characterized as the finest\\nallegory in the world.\\nA Quaker called on Bunyan one day with\\na message from the Lord, saying he had\\nbeen to half the jails of England, and was\\nglad at last to have found him. To which\\nBunyan replied: If the Lord sent thee,\\nyou would not have needed to take so much\\ntrouble to find me out, for He knew that I\\nhave been in Bedford Jail these seven\\nyears past.\\nWilliam Penn in Prison.\\nCharles II imprisoned Baxter, Harrington\\n(the author of Oceana William Penn,\\nand many more. All these men solaced\\ntheir prison hours with writing. Baxter\\nwrote some of the most remarkable pas-\\nsages of his Life and Times while lying\\nin the King s Bench Prison and Penn wrote\\nhis No Cross, no Crown while imprisoned\\nin the Tower. In the reign of Queen Anne,\\nMatthew Prior was in confinement, on a\\nvamped-up charge of treason, for two years,\\nduring which he wrote his Alma, or Pro-\\ngress of the Soul.\\nSince then, political prisoners of eminence\\nin England have been comparatively few in\\nnumber. Among the most illustrious were\\nDe Foe, who, besides standing three times in\\nthe pillory, spent much of his time in prison,\\nwriting Robinson Crusoe there, and many\\nof his best political pamphlets. There, also,\\nhe wrote his Hymn to the Pillory, and\\ncorrected for the press a collection of his\\nvoluminous writings.\\nLouis Kossuth, the great Hungarian pa-\\ntriot^ orator and statesman, was imprisoned\\ntwo years at Buda. He got hold of a copy\\nof Shakespeare and occupied his time in\\nlearning the English language, so that dur-\\ning a subsequent visit to America, where he\\nreceived immense ovations from our entire\\npeople, he surprised all who heard him by\\nhis wonderful command of our language and\\nby his amazing eloquence. He stepped from\\nprison to a position compared with which\\nthrones were cheap.\\nMen who, like these, suffer the penalty of\\nlaw, and seem to fail, at least for a time, do\\nnot really fail. Many, who have seemed to\\nfail utterly, have often exercised a more\\npotent and enduring influence upon their\\nrace than those whose career has been a\\ncourse of uninterrupted success. The char-\\nacter of a man does not depend on whether\\nhis efforts are immediately followed by fail-\\nure or by success. The martyr is not a\\nfailure if the truth for which he suffered\\nacquires a fresh lustre through his sacrifice.\\nTo Lose Life is to Save It.\\nThe patriot who lays down his life for his\\ncause may thereby hasten its triumph and\\nthose who seem to throw their lives away in\\nthe van of a great movement often open a\\nway for those who follow them, and pass\\nover their dead bodies to victory. The\\ntriumph of a just cause may come late but\\nwhen it does come, it is due as much to those\\nwho failed in their first efforts as to those\\nwho succeeded in their last.\\nThe example of a great death may be an\\ninspiration to others, as well as the example\\nof a good life. A great act does not perish\\nwith the life of him who performs it, but\\nlives and grows up into like acts in those who\\nsurvive the doer thereof and cherish his\\nmemory. Of some great men, it might\\nalmost be said that they have not begun to\\nlive until they have died.\\nThe names of the men who have suffered\\nin the cause of religion, of science, and of\\ntruth, are the men, of all others, whose\\nmemories are held in the greatest esteem\\nand reverence by mankind. They perished.\\nk", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0153.jp2"}, "154": {"fulltext": "120\\nTHE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\nbut their truth survived. They seemed to\\nfail, and yet they eventually succeeded.\\nPrisons may have held them, but their\\nthoughts were not to be confined by prison-\\n-walls. They have burst through, and defied\\nthe power of their persecutors. It was Love-\\nJace, a prisoner, who wrote\\nStone walls do not a prison make.\\nNor iron bars a cage\\njyiiuds innocent and quiet take\\nThat for a hermitage.\\nIt was a saying of Milton that, who best\\ncan suffer best can do. The Work of many\\nof the greatest men, inspired by duty, has\\nbeen done amidst suffering and trial and\\ndifficulty. They have struggled against the\\ntide, and reached the shore exhausted, only\\nto grasp the sand and expire. They have\\ndone their duty, and been content to die.\\nBut death hath no power over such men\\ntheir hallowed memories still survive, to\\nsoothe and purify and bless us. Life,\\nsaid Goethe, to us all is suffering. Who\\nsave God alone shall call us to our reckoning?\\nLet not reproaches fall on the departed.\\nNot what they have failed in, nor what they\\nhave suffered, but what they have done,\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0ought to occupy the survivors.\\nAdversity Shows What we are Made Of.\\nThus, it is not ease and facility that tries\\nmen and brings out the good that is in them,\\nso much as trial and difficulty. Adversity is\\nthe touch-stone of character. As some herbs\\nneed to be crushed to give forth their\\nsweetest odor, so some natures need to be\\ntried by suffering to evoke the excellence\\nthat is in them. Hence trials often unmask\\nvirtues, and bring to light hidden graces.\\nMen apparently useless and purposeless,\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2when placed in positions of difficulty and\\nresponsibility, have exhibited powers of\\ncharacter before unsuspected and where we\\nbefore saw only pliancy and self-indulgence,\\nwe now see strength, valor, and self-denial.\\nAs there are no blessings which may not\\nbe perverted into evils, so there are no trials\\nwhich may not be converted into blessings.\\nAll depends on the manner in which we\\nprofit by them or otherwise. Perfect happi-\\nness is not to be looked for in this world.\\nIf it could be secured, it would be found\\nprofitless. The hoUowest of all gospels is\\nthe gospel of ease and comfort.\\nDifficulty, and even failure, are far better\\nteachers. Sir Humphry Davy said Even\\nin private life, too much prosperity either\\ninjures the moral man, and occasions conduct\\nwhich ends in suffering, or it is accompanied\\nby the workings of envy, calumny, and\\nmalevolence of others.\\nA Poor Arabian Woman.\\nFailure improves tempers and strengthens\\nthe nature. Even sorrow is in some mys-\\nterious way linked with joy and associated\\nwith tenderness. John Bunyan once said,\\nif it were lawful, he could even pray for\\ngreater trouble, for the greater comfort s\\nsake. When surprise was expressed at the\\npatience of a poor Arabian woman under\\nheavy affliction, she said, When we look on\\nGod s face we do not feel His hand.\\nSuffering is doubtless as divinely appointed\\nas joy, while it is much more influential as a\\ndiscipline of character. It chastens and\\nsweetens the nature, teaches patience and\\nresignation, and promotes the deepest as well\\nas the most exalted thought.\\nWhat is it, says Mr. Helps, that pro-\\nmotes the most and the deepest thought in\\nthe human race? It is not learning; it is\\nnot the conduct of business it is not even\\nthe impulse of the affections. It is suffering;\\nand that, perhaps, is the reason why there is\\nso much suffering in the world. The angel", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0154.jp2"}, "155": {"fulltext": "234\\nno night so dark, no day so drear,\\nbut we may sing our song of cheer.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0155.jp2"}, "156": {"fulltext": ".22\\nTHE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\nwho went down to trouble the waters and to\\nmake them healing, was not, perhaps,\\nintrusted with so great a boon as the angel\\nwho benevolently inflicted upon the sufferers\\nthe disease from which they suffered.\\nThe best of men\\nThat e er wore earth about Him was a sufferer\\nA soft, meek, patient, humble, tranquil spirit\\nThe first true gentleman that ever breathed.\\nSuffering may be the appointed means by\\nwhich the highest nature of man is to be\\ndisciplined and developed. Assuming hap-\\npiness to be the end of being, sorrow may\\nbe the indispensable condition through which\\nit is to be reached. Hence St. Paul s noble\\nparadox descriptive of the Christian life\\nAs chastened, and not killed; as sorrowful,\\nyet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making\\nmany rich as having nothing, and yet pos-\\nsessing all things.\\nPain Loses its Sting.\\nEven pain is not all painful. On one side\\nit is related to suffering, and on the other to\\nhappiness. For pain is remedial as well as\\nsorrowful. Suffering is a misfortune as\\nviewed from the one side, and a discipline\\nas viewed from, the other. But for suffering,\\nthe best part of many men s nature would\\nsleep a deep sleep. Indeed, it might almost\\nbe said that pain and sorrow were the indis-\\npensable conditions of some men s success,\\nand the necessary means to evoke the high-\\nest development of their genius. Shelley\\nhas said of poets\\nMost wretched men are cradled into poetry by\\nwrong,\\nThey learn in suffering what they teach in song.\\nDoes any one suppose that Burns would\\nhave sung as he did had he been rich,\\nrespectable and kept a gig; or Byron,\\nif he had been a prosperous, happily-mar-\\nried Postmaster-General?\\nSometimes a heart-break rouses an impas-\\nsive nature to life. What does he know,\\nsaid a sage, who has not suffered? When\\nDumas asked Reboul, What made you a\\npoet? his answer was, Suffering! It\\nwas the death, first, of his wife, and then\\nof his child, that drove him into solitude for\\nthe indulgence of his grief, and eventually\\nled him to seek and find relief in verse. It\\nwas also to a domestic affliction that we owe\\nthe beautiful writings of Mrs. Gaskell. It\\nwas as a recreation, in the highest sense of\\nthe word, says a recent writer, speaking\\nfrom personal knowledge, as an escape\\nfrom the great void of a life from which a\\ncherished presence had been taken, that she\\nbegan that series of exquisite creations which\\nhas served to multiply the number of our\\nacquaintances and to enlarge even the circle\\nof our friendships.\\nHow the Best Work is Done.\\nMuch of the best and most useful work\\ndone by men and women has been done\\namidst affliction sometimes as a relief from\\nit, sometimes from a sense of duty over-\\npowering personal sorrow. If I had not\\nbeen so great an invalid, said Dr. Darwin\\nto a friend, I should not have done nearly\\nso much work as I have been able to accom-\\nplish. So Dr. Donne, speaking of his\\nillnesses, once said The advantage you\\nand my other friends have by my frequent\\nfevers is, that I am so much the oftener at\\nthe gates of Heaven and by the solitude\\nand close imprisonment they reduce me to,\\nI am so much the oftener at my prayers, in\\nwhich you and my other dear friends are not\\nforgotten.\\nSchiller produced his greatest tragedies in\\nthe midst of physical suffering almost amount-", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0156.jp2"}, "157": {"fulltext": "THE SCHOOL OF EVERYDAY LIFE.\\n123\\ning to torture. Handel was never greater\\nthan when, warned by palsy of the approach\\nof death, and struggling with distress and\\nsuffering, he sat down to compose the great\\nworks which have made his name immortal\\nin music. Mozart composed his great operas,\\nand last of all his Requiem, when oppressed\\nby debt, and struggling with a fatal disease.\\nBeethoven produced his greatest works\\namidst gloomy sorrow, when oppressed by\\nalmost total deafness.\\nHeroism in Suffering.\\nAnd poor Schubert, after his short but\\nbrilliant life, laid it down at the early age of\\nthirty -two his sole property at his death\\nconsisting of his manuscripts, the clothes he\\nwore, and twenty-two dollars in money.\\nSome of Charles Lamb s finest writings were\\nproduced amidst deep sorrow; and Hood s\\napparent gayety often sprang from a suffer-\\ning heart. As he himself wrote,\\nThere s not a string attuned to mirth,\\nBut has its chord in melancholy.\\nAgain, in science, we have the noble\\ninstance of the suffering Wollaston, even in\\nthe last stages of the mortal disease which\\nafflicted him, devoting his numbered hours\\nto putting on record, by dictation, the various\\ndiscoveries and improvements he had made,\\nso that any knowledge he had acquired cal-\\nculated to benefit his fellow-creatures might\\nnot be lost.\\nOne of the finest examples of heroism and\\npatience under suffering was afforded by\\nGeneral Grant during his protracted illness.\\nFatal disease had attacked him and death\\nhad clutched him by the throat, yet for\\nweary months he labored incessantly to com-\\nplete his Memoirs that he might have a\\nlegacy to leave to his family. Happily it\\nproved to be a fortune, but the merit of the\\nwork, its historical value and addition to our\\nwar literature, are not so remarkable as the\\npatient perseverance that produced it while\\nthe last darkness was shadowing the eyes of\\nthe great commander. The heroism he dis-\\nplayed in his painful sickness dwarfed any he\\nshowed on the field of battle, and put the\\ncrown upon his remarkable career.\\nAfflictions often prove but blessings in dis-\\nguise. Fear not the darkness, said the\\nPersian sage; it conceals perhaps the\\nsprings of the waters of life. Experience is\\noften bitter, but wholesome only by its\\nteaching can we learn to suffer and be strong.\\nCharacter, in its highest forms, is disciplined\\nby trial, and made perfect through suffer-\\ning. Even from the deepest sorrow the\\npatient and thoughtful mind will gather\\nricher wisdom than pleasure ever yielded.\\nThe soul s dark cottage, battered and decaj ed,\\nLets in new light through chinks that time has\\nmade.\\nWe are Pupils in School.\\nConsider, said Jeremy Taylor, that sad\\naccidents and a state of afflictions is a school\\nof virtue. It reduces our spirits to sober-\\nness, and our counsels to moderation; it\\ncorrects levity, and interrupts the confidence\\nof sinning. God, who in mercy and wisdom\\ngoverns the world, would never have suffered\\nso many sadnesses, and have sent them,\\nespecially, to the most virtuous and the\\nwisest men, but that He intends they should\\nbe the seminary of comfort, the nursery of\\nvirtue, the exercise of wisdom, the trial\\nof patience, the venturing for a crown, and\\nthe gate of glory.\\nAnd again: No man is more miserable\\nthan he that hath no adversity. That man\\nis not tried, whether he be good or bad;\\nand God never crowns those virtues which\\nare only faculties and dispositions; but every", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0157.jp2"}, "158": {"fulltext": "124\\nTHE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\nact of virtue is an ingredient unto reward.\\nProsperity and success of themselves do\\nnot confer happiness; indeed, it not unfre-\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0quently happens that the least successful in\\nlife have the greatest share of true joy in it.\\nNo man could have been more successful\\nthan Goethe possessed of splendid health,\\nhonor, power and sufficiency of this world s\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0goods and yet he confessed that he had\\nnot, in the course of his life, enjoyed five\\nAveeks of genuine pleasure. So the Caliph\\nAbdalrahman, in surveying his successful\\nreign of fifty years, found that he had\\nenjoyed only fourteen days of pure and\\ngenuine happiness. After this, might it not\\nbe said that the pursuit of mere happiness\\nis an illusion?\\nWhining is of no Use.\\nLife, all sunshine without shade, all happi-\\nness without sorrow, all pleasure without\\npain, were not life at all at least not human\\nlife. Take the lot of the happiest it is a\\ntangled yarn. It is made up of sorrows\\nand joys; and the joys are all the sweeter\\nbecause of the sorrows; bereavements and\\nblessings, one following another, making us\\nsad and blessed by turns. Even death itself\\nmakes life more loving; it binds us more\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0closely together while here.\\nDr. Thomas Browne has argued that\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2death is one of the necessary conditions\\n-of human happiness, and he supports his\\n.argument with great force and eloquence.\\nBut when death comes into a household, we\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0do not philosophize we only feel. The\\neyes that are full of tears do not see;\\nthough in course of time they come to see\\nmore clearly and brightly than those that\\nhave never known sorrow.\\nThe wise person gradually learns not to\\nexpect too much from life. While he strives\\nfor success by worthy methods, he will be\\nprepared for failures. He will keep his\\nmind open to enjoyment, but submit pa-\\ntiently to suffering. Wailings and com-\\nplainings of life are never of any use; only\\ncheerful and continuous working in right\\npaths are of real avail.\\nAll in Need of Charity.\\nNor will the wise man expect too much\\nfrom those about him. If he would live at\\npeace with others, he will bear and forbear.\\nAnd even the best have often foibles of\\ncharacter which have to be endured, sympa-\\nthized with, and perhaps pitied. Who is\\nperfect? Who does not suffer from some\\nthorn in the flesh? Who does not stand\\nin need of toleration, of forbearance, of for-\\ngiveness? What the poor imprisoned Queen\\nCaroline Matilda, of Denmark, wrote on her\\nchapel-window ought to be the prayer of all\\nOh! keep me innocent! make others\\ngreat.\\nThen, how much does the disposition of\\nevery human being depend upon their innate\\nconstitution and their early surroundings;\\nthe comfort or discomfort of the homes in\\nwhich they have been brought up; their\\ninherited characteristics and the examples,\\ngood or bad, to which they have been ex-\\nposed through life Regard for such con-\\nsiderations should teach charity and forbear-\\nance to all men.\\nAt the same time, life will always be to a\\nlarge extent what we ourselves make it.\\nEach mind makes its own little world. The\\ncheerful mind makes it pleasant, and the dis-\\ncontented mind makes it miserable. My\\nmind to me a kingdom is, applies alike to\\nthe peasant as to the monarch. The one\\nmay be in his heart a king, as the other\\nmay be a slave. Life is for the most part\\nbut the mirror of our own individual selves.\\nOur mind gives to all situations, to all", "height": "3475", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0158.jp2"}, "159": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0159.jp2"}, "160": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3481", "width": "2608", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0160.jp2"}, "161": {"fulltext": "THE SCHOOL OF EVERYDAY LIFE.\\n125\\nfortunes, high or low, their real characters.\\nTo the good, the world is good; to the bad,\\nit is bad. If our views of life be elevated\\nif we regard it as a sphere of useful effort,\\nof high living and high thinking, of working\\nfor others good as well as our own it will\\nbe joyful, hopeful and blessed. If, on the\\ncontrary, we regard it merely as affording\\nopportunities for self-seeking, pleasure and\\naggrandizement, it will be full of toil, anxiety\\nand disappointment.\\nThere is much in life that, while in this\\nstate, we can never comprehend. There is,\\nindeed, a great deal of mystery in life much\\nthat we see as in a glass darkly. But\\nthough we may not apprehend the full\\nmeaning of the discipline of trial through\\nwhich the best have to pass, we must have\\nfaith in the completeness of the design of\\nwhich our little individual lives form a\\npart.\\nWe have each to do our duty in that\\nsphere of life in which we have been placed.\\nDuty alone is true; there is no true action\\nbut in its accomplishment. Duty is the end\\nand aim of the highest life; the truest pleas-\\nure of all is that derived from the conscious-\\nness of its fulfillment. Of all others, it is-\\nthe one that is most thoroughly satisfying,\\nand the least accompanied by regret and\\ndisappointment. In the words of George\\nHerbert, the consciousness of duty per-\\nformed gives us music at midnight.\\nAnd when we have done our work on\\nearth of necessity, of labor, of love, or of\\nduty-^like the silk-worm that spins its little\\ncocoon and dies, we too depart. But, short\\nthough our stay in life may be, it is the\\nappointed sphere in which each has to work\\nout the great aim and end of his being to\\nthe best of his power; and when that is-\\ndone, the accidents of the flesh will affect\\nbut little the immortality we shall at last\\nput on.\\nTHE BRIGHT DAY WILL DAWN.\\nWhat though before me it is dark,\\nToo dark for me to see\\nI ask but light for one step more\\nTis quite enough for me.\\nEach little, humble step I take,\\nThe gloom clears from the next\\nSo, though tis very dark beyond,\\nI never am perplexed.\\nAnd if sometimes the mist hangs close.\\nSo close I fear to stray,\\nPatient I wait a little while.\\nAnd soon it clears away..\\nI would not see my further path,\\nFor mercy veils it so\\nMy present steps might harder be\\nDid I the future know.\\nIt may be that my path is rough.\\nThorny, and hard, and steep\\nAnd knowing this, my strength might fail\\nThrough fear and terror deep.\\nIt may be that it winds along\\nA smooth and flowery way\\nBut seeing this I might despise\\nThe journey of to-day.\\nPerhaps my path is very short,\\nMy journey nearly done,\\nAnd I might tremble at the thought\\nOf ending it so soon.\\nOr, if I saw a weary length\\nOf road that I must wend,\\nFainting, I d think, My feeble powers\\nWill fail me ere the end.\\nAnd so I do not wish to see\\nMy journey or its length\\nAssured that, through my Father s love,\\nEach step will bring its strength.\\nThus step by step I onward go,\\nKot looking far before\\nTrusting that I shall always have\\nLight for just one step more.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0161.jp2"}, "162": {"fulltext": "THE PATH OF DUTY,\\n126", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0162.jp2"}, "163": {"fulltext": "CHAPTER VII.\\nTHE PATH OF DUTY.\\nO not turn away from this plain,\\nold-fashioned word duty.\\nIt is one of the grandest\\nwords in the English lan-\\nguage. England expects\\nevery man to do his duty,\\nwas what Lord Nelson sig-\\nnaled to all the battle-ships of his fleet at the\\nbeginning of the battle of Trafalgar. May\\nwar cease, but if there must be war, duty\\nis the watchword that is rivalled only by\\ncourage. Nelson lost his life in that battle,\\nbut duty won the victory.\\nDuty embraces our whole existence. It\\nbegins in the home, where there is the duty\\nwhich children owe to their parents on the\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0one hand, and the duty which parents owe\\nto their children on the other. There are,\\nin like manner, the respective duties of hus-\\nbands and wives, of masters and servants\\nwhile outside the home there are the duties\\nwhich men and women owe to each other as\\nfriends and neighbors, as employers and\\nemployed, as governors and governed.\\nRender, therefore, says St. Paul, to\\n.all their dues tribute to whom tribute is\\ndue custom to whom custom fear to whom\\nfear honor to whom honor. Owe no man\\nanything, but to love one another for he\\nthat loveth another hath fulfilled the law.\\nThus duty rounds the whole of life, from\\nour entrance into it until our exit from it\\nduty to superiors, duty to inferiors, and duty\\nto equals duty to man, and duty to God.\\nWherever there is power to use or to direct,\\nthere is duty. For we are but as stewards.\\nappointed to employ the means intrusted tc\\nus for our own and for others good.\\nThe abiding sense of duty is the very\\ncrown of character. It is the upholding law\\nof man in his highest attitudes. Without it,\\nthe individual totters and falls before the first\\npuff of adversity or temptation whereas,\\ninspired by it, the weakest becomes strong\\nand full of courage. Duty, says Mrs.\\nJameson, is the cement which binds the\\nwhole moral edifice together without which,\\nall power, goodness, intellect, truth, happi-\\nness, love itself, can have no permanence;\\nbut all the fabric of existence crumbles away\\nfrom under us, and leaves us at last sitting\\nin the midst of a ruin, astonished at our own\\ndesolation.\\nHow Duty Shows Itself.\\nDuty is based upon a sense of justice\\njustice inspired by love, which is the most\\nperfect form of goodness. Duty is not a\\nsentiment, but a principle pervading the life\\nand it exhibits itself in conduct and in acts,\\nwhich are mainly determined by man s con-\\nscience and freewill.\\nThe voice of conscience speaks in duty\\ndone and without its regulating and con-\\ntrolling influence, the brightest and greatest\\nintellect may be merely as a light that leads\\nastray. Conscience sets a man upon his\\nfeet, while his will holds him upright. Con-\\nscience is the moral governor of the heart\\nthe governor of right action, of right thought,\\nof right faith, of right life and only through\\nits dominating influence can the noble and\\n127", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0163.jp2"}, "164": {"fulltext": "128\\nTHE PATH OF DUTY.\\nupright character be fully developed and\\nmade to shine upon others.\\nThe conscience, however, may speak never\\nso loudly, but without energetic will it may\\nspeak in vain. The will is free to choose\\nbetween the right course and the wrong one,\\nbut the choice is nothing unless followed by\\nimmediate and decisive action. If the sense\\nof duty be strong, and the course of action\\nclear, the courageous will, upheld by the\\nconscience, enables a man to proceed on his\\ncourse bravely, and to accomplish his pur-\\nposes in the face of all opposition and diffi-\\nculty. And should failure be the issue,\\nthere will remain at least this satisfaction,\\nthat it has been in the cause of duty.\\nDaily Duty.\\nEach day its duty brings. The vindone task\\nOf yesterday cannot be now fulfdled\\nWithout some current work s displacement. Time\\nAnd tide will wait for none. Then let us act\\nSo that they need not wait, and keep abreast\\nWith them by the discharge of each day s claim\\nFor each new dawn, like a prolific tree,\\nBlossoms with blessings and with duties which\\nSo interwoven grow that he who shirks\\nThe latter, fails the first. You cannot pick\\nThe dainty and refuse the task. To win\\nThe smile of Him who did His Father s will\\nIn the great work assigned Him, while twas day.\\nWith love self-sacrificing, His high course\\nWe must with prayerful footsteps imitate\\nAnd, knowing not what one day may bring forth,\\nLive so that Death, come when he may, shall find\\nUs not defaulters in arrears with Time,\\nMourning, like Titus, I have lost a day\\nBut busily engaged on something which\\nShall cast a blessing on the world, rebound\\nWith one to our own breasts, and tend to give\\nTo man some benefit, to God some praise.\\nBe and continue poor, young man, said\\nHeinzelman;-;, while others around you\\ngrow rich by fraud and disloyalty; be with-\\nout place or power, while others beg their\\nway upward bear the pain of disappointed\\nhopes, while others gain the accomplish-\\nment of theirs by flattery forego the\\ngracious pressure of the hand, for which,\\nothers cringe and crawl. Wrap yourself in\\nyour own virtue, and seek a friend and your\\ndaily bread. If you have in your own cause\\ngrown gray with unbleached honor, bless\\nGod and die St. Paul, inspired by duty\\nand faith, declared himself as not only\\nready to be bound, but to die at Jerusalem.\\nRemember Your Honor.\\nWhen the Marquis of Pescara was\\nentreated by the princes of Italy to desert the\\nSpanish cause, to which he was in honor\\nbound, his noble wife, Vittoria Colonna,.\\nreminded him of his duty. She wrote to-\\nhim Remember your honor, which raises\\nyou above fortune and above kings by that\\nalone, and not by the splendor of titles, is\\nglory acquired that glory which it will be\\nyour happiness and pride to transmit\\nunspotted to your posterity. Such was the\\ndignified view which she took of her hus-\\nband s honor and when he fell at Pavia,\\nthough young and beautiful, and besought\\nby many admirers, she betook herself to soli-\\ntude, that she might lament over her\\nhusband s loss and celebrate his exploits.\\nTo live really is to act energetically. Life\\nis a battle to be fought valiantly. Inspired\\nby high and honorable resolve, a man must\\nstand to his post, and die there, if need be.\\nLike the old Danish hero, his determination\\nshould be, to dare nobly, to will strongly,\\nand never to falter in the path of duty. The\\npower of will, be it great or small, which.\\nGod has given us, is a divine gift; and we\\nought neither to let it perish for want of\\nusing, on the one hand, nor profane it by\\nemploying it for ignoble purposes, on the\\nother. Robertson, of Brighton, has truly\\nsaid, that man s real greatness consists not in\\nseeking his own pleasure, or fame, or", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0164.jp2"}, "165": {"fulltext": "THE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\n129\\nadvancement not that every one shall save\\nhis own life, not that every man shall seek\\nhis own glory but that every man shall do\\nhis own duty.\\nDuty in the Face of Danger.\\nOld Ironsides at anchor lay-\\nIn the harbor of Mahon\\nA dead calm rested on the bay,\\nThe waves to sleep had gone\\nWhen little Hal, the Captain s son,\\nA lad both brave and good,\\nIn sport, up shroud and rigging ran,\\nAnd on the main truck stood\\nA shudder shot through every vein.\\nAll eyes were turned on high\\nThere stood the boy, with dizzy brain,\\nBetween the sea and sky\\nNor hold had he above, below\\nAlone he stood in air\\nTo that far height none dared to go.\\nNo aid could reach him there.\\nWe gazed, but not a man could speak\\nWith horror all aghast.\\nIn groups, with pallid brow and cheek,\\nWe watched the quivering mast.\\nThe atmosphere grew thick and hot,\\nAnd of a lurid hue.\\nAs riveted unto the spot.\\nStood officers and crew.\\nThe father came on deck he gasped,\\nO God Thy will be done\\nThen suddenly a rifle grasped.\\nAnd aimed it at his son.\\nJump, far out, boy, into the wave\\nJump, or I fire, he said\\nThat only chance your life can save\\nJump, jump, my boy He obeyed.\\nHe sank, he rose, he lived, he moved,\\nAnd for the ship struck out.\\nOn board we hailed the lad beloved,\\nWith many a manly shout.\\nHis father drew, in silent joy,\\nThose wet arms round his neck,\\nAnd folded to his heart his boy.\\nThen faulted on the deck.\\nGeorge; P. Morris.\\nThe sense of duty is a sustaining power even\\nto a courageous man. It holds him upright, I\\nand makes him strong. It was a noble\\nsaying of Pompey, when his friends tried to\\ndissuade him from embarking for Rome in a\\nstorm, telling him that he did so at the great\\nperil of his life: It is necessary for me to\\ngo, he said it is not necessary for me to\\nlive. What it was right that he should do,\\nhe would do, in the face of danger and in\\ndefiance of storms.\\nDid Not Count the Cost.\\nAs might be expected of the great Wash-\\nington, the chief motive power in his life\\nwas the spirit of duty. It was the regal and\\ncommanding element in his character which\\ngave it unity, compactness, and vigor.\\nWhen he clearly saw his duty before him,\\nhe did it at all hazards, and with inflexible\\nintegrity. He did not do it for effect nor\\ndid he think of glory, or of fame and its\\nrewards but of the right thing to be done,\\nand the best way of doing it.\\nYet Washington had a most modest opin-\\nion of himself; and when offered the chief\\ncommand of the American patriot army, he\\nhesitated to accept it until it was pressed\\nupon him. When ackno .vledging in Con-\\ngress the honor i^ hlcli had been done him in\\nselecting hini to so important a trust, on the\\nexecution of which the future of his country\\nin a great measure depended, Washington\\nsaid I beg it may be remembered, lest\\nsome unlucky event should happen unfavor-\\nable to my reputation, that I this day declare,\\nwith the utmost sincerity, I do not think\\nmyself equal to the command I am honored\\nwith.\\nAnd in his letter to his wife, communicating\\nto her his appointment as commander-in-\\nchief, he said I have used every endeavor\\nin my power to avoid it, not only from\\nmy unwillingness to part with you and the\\nfamily, but from a consciousness of its being\\nI", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0165.jp2"}, "166": {"fulltext": "130\\nTHE PATH OF DUTY.\\na trust too great for my capacity and that\\nI should enjoy more real happiness in one\\nmonth with you at home than I have the\\nmost distant prospect of finding abroad, if\\nmy stay were to be seven times seven years.\\nBut, as it has been a kind of destiny thathas\\nthrown me upon this service, I shall hope\\nthat my undertaking it is designed for some\\ngood purpose. It was utterly out of my\\npower to refuse the appointment, without\\nexposing my character to such censures as\\nwould have reflected dishonor upon myself,\\nand given pain to my friends. This, I am\\nsure, could not, and ought not, to be pleasing\\nto you, and must have lessened me consider-\\nably in my own esteem.\\nA Noble Resolve.\\nWashington pursued his upright course\\nthrough life, first as commander-in-chief, and\\nafterwards as president, never faltering in the\\npath of duty. He had no regard for popu-\\nlarity, but held to his purpose through good\\nand through evil report, often at the risk of\\nhis power and influence.\\nThus, on one occasion, when the ratifica-\\ntion of a treaty, arranged by Mr. Jay with\\nGreat Britain, was in question, Washington\\nwas urged to reject it. But his honor, and\\nthe honor of his country, was committed,\\nand he refused to do so. A great outcry\\nwas raised against the treaty, and for a time\\nWashington was so unpopular that he is said\\nto have been actually stoned by the mob.\\nBut he, nevertheless, held it to be his duty\\nto ratify the treaty and it was carried out\\nin despite of petitions and remonstrances\\nfrom all quarters. While I feel, he said,\\nin answer to the remonstrants, the most\\nlively gratitude for the many instances of\\napprobation from my country, I can no\\notherwise deserve it than by obeying the\\ndictates of my conscience.\\nWellington s watch-word, like Washing-\\nton s, was duty and no man could be more\\nloyal to it than he was. Wellington, like\\nWashington, had to pay the penalty of his\\nadherence to the cause he thought right, in\\nhis loss of popularity. He was mobbed\\nin the streets of London, and had his win-\\ndows smashed by the mob, while his wife lay\\ndead in the house. There is little or noth-\\ning, he once said, in this life worth living\\nfor but we can all of us go straight forward\\nand do our duty.\\nFaithful Service.\\nNone recognized more cheerfully than he\\ndid the duty of obedience and willing service\\nfor unless men can serve faithfully, they will\\nnot rule others wisely. There is no mottO\\nthat becomes the wise man better than Ick\\ndien, I serve; and They also serve who\\nonly stand and wait.\\nWhen the mortification of an officer,,\\nbecause of his being appointed to a command\\ninferior to what he considered to be his\\nmerits, was communicated to the duke, he-\\nsaid In the course of my military career,\\nI have gone from the command of a brigade\\nto that of my regiment, and from the com-\\nmand of an army to that of a brigade or a\\ndivision, as I was ordered, and without any\\nfeeling of mortification.\\nWhile commanding the allied army in\\nPortugal, the conduct of the native popula-\\ntion did not seem to Wellington to be either\\nbecoming or dutiful. We have enthusiasm\\nin plenty, he said, and plenty of cries of\\nViva We have illuminations, patriotic\\nsongs, and fc/cs everywhere. But what we\\nwant is, that each in his own station should\\ndo his duty faithfully, and pay implicit obedi-\\nence to legal authority.\\nThis abiding ideal of duty seemed to be\\nthe governing principle of Wellington s char-", "height": "3479", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0166.jp2"}, "167": {"fulltext": "THE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\n131\\nacter. It was always uppermost in his mind,\\nand directed all the public actions of his life.\\nNor did it fail to communicate itself to those\\nunder him, who served him in the like spirit.\\nWhen he rode into one of his infantry squares\\nat Waterloo, as its diminished numbers closed\\nup to receive a charge of French cavalry, he\\nsaid to the men, Stand steady, lads; think\\nof what they will say of us in England to\\nwhich the men replied, Never fear, sir we\\nknow our duty.\\nSensible Advice.\\nNelson s companion and friend the brave,\\nsensible, homely-minded Collingwood he\\nwho, as his ship bore down into the great\\nsea-fight, said to his flag-captain, Just about\\nthis time our wives are going to church in\\nEngland Collingwood too was, like his\\ncommander, an ardent devotee of duty.\\nDo your duty to the best of your ability,\\nwas the maxim which he urged upon many\\nyoung men starting on the voyage of life.\\nTo a midshipman he once gave the following\\nmanly and sensible advice\\nYou may depend upon it, that it is more\\nin your own power than in anybody else s to\\npromote both your comfort and advance-\\nment. A strict and unwearied attention to\\nyour duty, and a complacent and respectful\\nbehavior, not only to your superiors but to\\neverybody, will insure you their regard, and\\nthe reward will surely come but if it should\\nnot, I am convinced you have too much\\ngood sense to let disappointment sour you.\\nGuard carefully against letting discontent\\nappear in you. It will be sorrow to your\\nfriends, a triumph to your competitors, and\\ncannot be productive of any good. Conduct\\nyourself so as to deserve the best that can\\ncome to you, and the consciousness of your\\nown proper behavior will keep you in spirits\\nif it should not come. Let it be your ambi-\\ntion to be foremost in all duty. Do not be\\na nice observer of turns, but ever present\\nyourself ready for everj^thing, and, unless\\nyour officers are very inattentive men, they\\nwill not allow others to impose more duty on\\nyou than they should.\\nMan does not live for himself alone. He\\nlives for the good of others as well as of\\nhimself. Every one has his duties to per-\\nform the richest as well as the poorest.\\nTo some life is pleasure, to others suffering.\\nBut the best do not live for self-enjoyment,\\nor even for fame. Their strongest motive\\npower is hopeful, useful work in every good\\ncause.\\nHierocles says that each one of us is\\na centre, circumscribed by many concentric\\ncircles. From ourselves the first circle\\nextends comprising parents, wife, and child-\\nren. The next concentring circle comprises\\nrelations then fellow-citizens and lastly,\\nthe whole human race.\\nThe Sentinel Dead at His Post.\\nThe sphere of duty is infinite. It exists\\nin every station of life. We have it not in\\nour choice to be rich or poor, to be happy\\nor unhappy; but it becomes us to do the\\nduty that everywhere surrounds us. Obedi-\\nence to duty, at all costs and risks, is the\\nvery essence of the highest civilized life.\\nGreat deeds must be worked for, hoped for,\\ndied for, now as in the past.\\nWe often connect the idea of duty with\\nthe soldier s trust. We remember the pagan\\nsentinel at Pompeii, found dead at his post,\\nduring the burial of the city by the ashes of\\nVesuvius, some eighteen hundred years ago.\\nThis was the true soldier. While others\\nfled, he stood to his post. It was his duty.\\nHe had been set to guard the place, and he\\nnever flinched. He was suffocated by the\\nsulphurous vapor of the falling ashes. His", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0167.jp2"}, "168": {"fulltext": "i\\n132", "height": "3481", "width": "2581", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0168.jp2"}, "169": {"fulltext": "THE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\n132\\nbody was resolved to dust, but his memory\\nsurvives. His helmet, lance and breastplate\\nare still to be seen in a museum at Naples.\\nThis soldier was obedient and disciplined.\\nHe did what he was appointed to do.\\nObedience, to the parent, to the master, to\\nthe officer, is what every one who would do\\nright should be taught to learn. Childhood\\nshould begin with obedience. Yet age does\\nnot absolve us. We must be obedient even\\nto the end. Duty, in its purest form, is so\\nconstraining that one never thinks, in per-\\nforming it, of one s self at all. It is there.\\nIt has to be done without any thought of\\nself-sacrifice.\\nSinking of a Naval Ship.\\nTo come to a much later date than that\\nof the Roman soldier at Pompeii. When the\\nnaval ship Birkenhead went down off the\\ncoast of Africa, with her brave soldiers on\\nboard firing guns in token of joy as they sank\\nbeneath the Avaves, the Duke of Wellington,\\nafter the new? arrived in England, was enter-\\ntained at the B-anquet of the Royal Academy.\\nMacaulay says I remarked (and Mr. Law-\\nrence, the AmiTican Minister, remarked the\\nsame thing) th;it in his eulogy of the poor\\nfellows who we*-e lost, the Duke never spoke\\nof their couraj ^e, but always of their disci-\\npline and subordination. He repeated it\\nseveral times o er. The courage, I suppose,\\nhe treated a.\u00c2\u00ab a matter of course.\\nDuty is se.T-devoted. It is not merely\\nfearlessness. The gladiator who fought the\\nlion with the ^ourage of a lion was urged on\\nby the ardo of the spectators, and never\\nforgot hims ^lf and his prizes. Pizarro was\\nfull of hardihood. But he -was actuated by\\nhis love of ^old in the midst of his terrible\\nhardships.\\nDo yc-u wish to be great? asks St.\\nAvf7\u00e2\u0096\u00a0 Then begin by being little.\\nDo you desire to construct a vast and lofty\\nfabric Think first about the foundations\\nof humility. The higher your structure is\\nto be, the deeper must be its foundation.\\nModest humility is beauty s crown.\\nThe best kind of duty is done in secret,,\\nand without sight of men. There it does its\\nwork devotedly and nobly. It does not\\nfollow the routine of worldly wise morality.\\nIt does not advertise itself It adopts a\\nlarger creed and a loftier code, which to be\\nsubject to and to obey is to consider every\\nhuman life, and every human action, in the\\nlight of an eternal obligation to the race.\\nOur evil or our careless actions incur debts\\nevery day, that humanity, sooner or later,\\nmust discharge.\\nMany duties are performed privately.\\nOur public life may be well known, but in\\nprivate there is that which no one sees the\\ninner life of the soul and spirit. We have it\\nin our choice to be worthy or worthless. No\\none can kill our soul, which can perish only\\nby its own suicide. If we can only make\\nourselves and each other a little better, holier,\\nand nobler, we have perhaps done the most\\nthat we could.\\nDavenport, of Stamford.\\nHere is the manner in which one of our\\nAmerican legislators stood to his post\\nAn eclipse of the sun happened in New\\nEngland about a century ago. The heavens\\nbecame very dark, and it seemed to many\\nthat the day of judgment was at hand. The\\nLegislature of Connecticut happened then to\\nbe in session, and on the darkness coming\\non, a member moved the adjournment of the\\nHouse, on which an old Puritan legislator,\\nDavenport, of Stamford, rose up and said\\nthat if the last day had come, he desired to\\nbe found in his place and doing his duty\\nfor which reasons he moved that candles", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0169.jp2"}, "170": {"fulltext": "134\\nTHE PATH OF DUTY.\\nshould be brought, so that the House might\\nproceed with its business. Waiting at the\\npost of duty was the maxim of the wise man,\\nand he carried his motion.\\nThere was a man of dehcate constitution,\\nwho devoted a great deal of his time to\\nphilanthropic work. He visited the sick, he\\nsat by them in their miserable homes, he\\nnursed them and helped them in all ways.\\nHe was expostulated with by his friends for\\nneglecting his business, and threatened with\\nthe illness he was sure to contract by visit-\\ning the fevered and the dying. He replied\\nto his friends with firmness and simplicity,\\nI look after my business for the sake of\\nmy wife and my children, but I hold that a\\nman s duty to society requires him to have a\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2care for those who are not of his own house-\\nhold.\\nThese were the words of a willing servant\\nto duty. It is not the man who gives his\\nmoney that is the true benefactor of his kind,\\nbut the man who gives himself. The man\\nwho gives his money is advertised the man\\nwho gives his time, strength, and soul, is\\nbeloved. The one may be remembered,\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2while the other may be forgotten, though\\nthe good influence he has sown will never die.\\nThe Golden Rule.\\nThere is a sentence in the Evangelists\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2which comes back to us without ceasing, and\\nwhich ought to be written on every page of\\na book of morality Do unto others as ye\\nwould that they should do unto you. In\\nlife, says Wilhelm von Humboldt, it is\\nworthy of special remark, that when we are\\nnot too anxious about happiness and unhap-\\npiness, but devote ourselves to the strict and\\nunsparing performance of duty, then happi-\\nness comes of itself nay, even springs from\\nthe midst of a life of troubles and anxie-\\nties and privations,\\nWhat is your duty asks Goethe.\\nThe carrying out of the affairs of the day\\nthat lies before you. But this is too narrow\\na view of duty. What again, he asks, is\\nthe best government That which teaches\\nus to govern ourselves. Plutarch said to\\nthe Emperor Trajan, let your government\\ncommence in your own breast, and lay the\\nfoundation of it in the command of your\\nown passions. Here come in the words\\nself-control, duty, and conscience. There\\nwill come a time, said Bishop Hooker,\\nwhen three words, uttered with charity and\\nmeekness, shall receive a far more blessed\\nreward than three thousand volumes written\\nwith the disdainful sharpness of wit.\\nDeeds of Love.\\nIt is well for the soul to look on actions\\ndone for love, not for selfish objects, but for\\nduty, mercy, and loving-kindness. There\\nare many things done for love which are a\\nthousand times better than those done for\\nmoney. The former inspire the spirit of\\nheroism and self-devotion. The latter die\\nwith the giving. Duty that is bought is\\nworth little. I consider, said Dr. Arnold,\\nbeyond all wealth, honor, or even health,\\nis the attachment due to noble souls be-\\ncause to become one with the good, gen-\\nerous, and true, is to be in a manner good,\\ngenerous, and true yourself.\\nEvery man has a service to do, to himself\\nas an individual, and to those who are near\\nhim. In fact, life is of little value unless it\\nbe consecrated by duty. Show those quali-\\nties, then, said Marcus Aurelis Antoninus,\\nwhich are altogether in thy power\\nsincerity, gravity, endurance of labor, aver-\\nsion to pleasure, contentment with thy por-\\ntion, and with few things, benevolence, frank-\\nness, and magnanimity.\\nThe greatest intellectual power may exist", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0170.jp2"}, "171": {"fulltext": "THE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\n135\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0without a particle of magnanimity. The\\nlatter comes from the highest power in man s\\nmind conscience, and from the highest\\nfaculty, reason, and capacity for faith that\\nby which man is capable of apprehending\\nmore than the senses supply. It is this\\nwhich makes man a reasonable creature\\nmore than a mere animal. Mr. Darwin has\\ntruly said, that the motives of conscience,\\nas connected with repentance and the feelings\\nof duty, are the most important differences\\nwhich separate man from the animal.\\nDoctor Parr s Answer.\\nWe are invited to believe in the all power-\\nful potentcy of matter. We are to believe\\nonly in what we can see with our eyes\\nand touch with our hands. We are to\\nbelieve in nothing that we do not under-\\nstand. But how very little do we abso-\\nlutely know and understand We see\\nonly the surfaces of things, as in a glass\\ndarkly. How can matter help us to under-\\nstand the mysteries of life? We know\\nabsolutely nothing about the causes of voli-\\ntion, sensation, and mental action. We\\nknow that they exist, but we cannot under-\\nstand them.\\nWhen a young man declared to Dr. Parr\\nthat he would believe nothing he did not\\nunderstand, Then, sir, said the doctor,\\nyour creed would be the shortest of any\\nman whom I ever knew.\\nWe must believe a thousand things that\\nwe do not understand. Matter and its com-\\nbinations are as great a mystery as life is.\\nLook at those numberless far-off worlds\\nmajestically wheeling in their appointed\\norbits or at this earth on which we live,\\nperforming its diurnal motion on its own\\naxis, during its annual circle round the sun.\\nWhat do we understand about the causes of\\nsuch motions What can we ever know\\nabout them beyond the fact that such things\\nare?\\nThe circuit of the sun in the heavens,\\nsays Pascal, vast as it is, is itself only a\\ndelicate point when compared with the vaster\\ncircuit that is accomplished by the stars.\\nBeyond the range of sight, this universe is\\nbut a spot in the ample bosom of nature.\\nWe can only imagine of atoms as compared\\nwith the reality, which is an infinite sphere,\\nof which the centre is everywhere, the cir-\\ncumference nowhere. What is man in the\\nmidst of this infinite?\\nBut there is another prospect not less\\nastounding it is the Infinite beneath him.\\nLet him look to the smallest of the things\\nwhich come under his notice a mite. It\\nhas limbs, veins, blood circulating in them,\\nglobules in that blood, humors and serum.\\nWithin the inclosure of this atom I will show\\nyou not merely the visible universe, but the\\nvery immensity of nature. Whoever gives\\nhis mind to thoughts such as this will be\\nterrified at himself trembling where nature\\nhas placed him suspended, as it were,\\nbetween infinity and nothingness. The\\nAuthor of these wonders comprehends them\\nnone but he can do so.\\nSong of Nature.\\nThe harp at nature s advent strung\\nHas never ceased to play\\nThe song the stars of morning sung\\nHas never died away.\\nAnd prayer is made, and praise is given,\\nBy all things near and far\\nThe ocean looketh up to heaven,\\nAnd mirrors every star.\\nIts waves are kneeling on the strand,\\nAs kneels the human knee,\\nTheir white locks bowing to the sand,\\nThe priesthood of the sea\\nThey pour their glittering treasures forth,\\nTheir gifts ol pearl they bring,", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0171.jp2"}, "172": {"fulltext": "133\\nTHE PATH OF DUTY.\\nAnd all the listening hills of earth\\nTake up the song they sing.\\nThe green earth sends her incense up\\nFrom many a mountain shrine\\nFrom folded leaf and dewy cup\\nShe pours her sacred wine.\\nThe mists above the morning rills\\nRise white as wings of prayer\\nThe altar curtains of the hills\\nAre sunset s purple air.\\nThe winds with hymns of praise are loud,\\nOr low with sobs of pain,\\nThe thunder-organ of the cloud,\\nThe dropping tears of rain.\\nWith drooping head and branches crossed,\\nThe twilight forest grieves.\\nOr speaks with tongues of Pentecost\\nFrom all its sunlit leaves.\\nThe blue sky is the temple s arch,\\nIts transept earth and air.\\nThe music of its starry march.\\nThe chorus of a prayer.\\nSo nature keep s the reverent frame\\nWith which her years began.\\nAnd all her signs and voices shame\\nThe prayerless heart of man.\\nJ. G. Whittier.\\nA Tongue in Every Leaf.\\nThere is a solemn hymn goes up\\nFrom nature to the lyord above\\nAnd offerings from her incense cup\\nAre poured in gratitude and love\\nAnd from each flower that lifts its eye\\nIn modest silence in the shade,\\nTo the strong woods that kiss the sky,\\nA thankful song of praise is made.\\nThere is no solitude on earth,\\nIn every leaf there is a tongue,\\nIn every glen the voice of mirth,\\nFrom every hill a hymn is sung.\\nAnd every wild and hidden dell,\\nWhere human footsteps never trod.\\nIs wafting songs of joy which tell\\nThe praises of their Maker God.\\nEach mountain gives an altar birth.\\nAnd has a shrine to worship given\\nEach breeze that rises from the earth\\nIs loaded with a song of heaven\\nEach wave that leaps along the main\\nSends solemn music on the air\\nAnd winds that swept o er ocean s plain\\nBear off their voice of grateful prayer.\\nAll the laws of nature are dutiful they\\nobey the command of their great Author.\\nHere is the pattern for man. We cannot do\\njust what we please to do unless we please\\nto do the right. The highest aim of multi-\\ntudes of persons is to have a good time\\nregardless of consequences. The end is sel-\\nfish and the life is mean and wicked. No\\nman acting on this principle ever made the\\nworld any better. He has his good time\\nfor a little while, passes out of sight, and is\\nremembered only as a failure, dead wood to\\nwhich the world says good riddance.\\nWhat the Chinese Sage Taught.\\nConfucius taught his disciples to believe\\nthat conduct is three-fourths of life. Ponder\\nrighteousness, and practice virtue. Knowl-\\nedge, magnanimity, and energy, are univer-\\nsally binding. Gravity, generosity of soul,\\nsincerity, earnestness, and kindness, consti-\\ntute perfect virtue. These words come to\\nus as the far-off echo of the great teacher of\\nten thousand ages, as his disciples called him\\nthe holy and prescient Chinese sage Con-\\nfucius.\\nBut all these virtues come from the innate\\nmonitor conscience. From this first principle\\nall rules of behavior are drawn. It bids us\\ndo what we call right, and forbids us doing\\nwhat we call wrong. At its fullest growth,\\nit bids us do what makes others happy, and\\nforbids us doing what makes others unhappy.\\nThe great lesson to be learned is, that man\\nmust strengthen himself to perform his duty\\nand do what is right, seeking his happiness\\nand inward peace in objects that cannot be", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0172.jp2"}, "173": {"fulltext": "THE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\n137\\ntaken away from him. Conscience is the\\nhelper by which we get the mastery over\\nour own failings. It is a silent working of\\nthe inner man, by which he proves his pe-\\nculiar power of the will and spirit of God.\\nWe have also something to learn from the\\nnoble old Greeks as to the virtue of duty.\\nSocrates is considered by some as the\\nfounder of Greek philosophy. It was his belief\\nthat he was specially charged by the Deity\\nto awaken moral conscience in men. He\\nwas born at Athens 468 years before Christ.\\nHe received the best education which an\\nAthenian could obtain. He first learned\\nsculpture, in which he acquired some repu-\\ntation. He then served his country as a\\nsoldier, according to the duty of all Athenian\\ncitizens. The oath which he took, in com-\\nmon with all other youths, was as follows\\nI will not disgrace the sacred arms intrusted\\nto me by my country nor will I desert the\\nplace committed to me to defend.\\nThe Highest Prize of Valor.\\nHe displayed much fortitude and valor in\\nall the expeditions in which he was engaged.\\nIn one of the engagements which took place\\nbefore Potidasa, Alcibiades fell wounded in\\nthe midst of the enemy. Socrates rushed\\nforward to rescue him, and carried him back,\\ntogether with his arms. For this gallant\\nperformance he was awarded the civic crown\\nas the highest prize of valor. His second\\ncampaign was no less honorable. At the\\ndisastrous battle of Delium he saved the life\\nof Xenophon, whom he carried from the\\nfield on his shoulder, fighting his way as he\\nwent. He served in another campaign, after\\nwhich he devoted himself for a time to the\\ncivil service of his country.\\nHe was as brave as a senator as he had\\nbeen as a soldier. He possessed that high\\nmoral courage which can brave not only\\ndeath but adverse opinion. He could defy\\na tyrant, as well as a tyrannical mob. When\\nthe admirals were tried after the battle of\\nArginusse, for not having rescued the bodies\\nof the slain, Socrates stood alone in defend-\\ning them. The mob were furious. He was\\ndismissed from the Council, and the admirals\\nwere condemned.\\nTaught Obedience to Duty.\\nSocrates then devoted himself to teaching.\\nHe stood in the market-places, entered the\\nworkshops, and visited the schools, in order\\nto teach the people his ideas respecting the\\nscope and value of human speculation and\\naction. He appeared during a time of utter\\nscepticism. He endeavored to withdraw\\nmen from their metaphysical speculation\\nabout nature, which had led them into the\\ninextricable confusion of doubt. Is life\\nworth living? was a matter of as much\\nspeculation in these days as it is in ours.\\nSocrates bade them look inward. While\\nmen were propitiating the gods, he insisted\\nupon moral conduct as alone guiding man\\nto happiness here and hereafter.\\nSocrates went about teaching. Wise men\\nand pupils followed him. Aristippus offered\\nhim a large sum of money, but the offer was\\nat once declined. Socrates did not teach\\nfor money, but to propagate wisdom. He\\ndeclared that the highest reward he could\\nenjoy was to see mankind benefiting by his\\nlabors.\\nHe did not expound from books he\\nmerely argued. Books, he said, cannot\\nbe interrogated, cannot answer, therefore they\\ncannot teach. We can only learn from them\\nwhat we knew before. He endeavored to\\nreduce things to their first elements, and to\\narrive at certainty as the only standard of\\ntruth. He believed in the unity of virtue,\\nand averred that it was teachable as a matter", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0173.jp2"}, "174": {"fulltext": "THE BLIND MAN S DUTIFUL CHILD.\\n138", "height": "3496", "width": "2582", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0174.jp2"}, "175": {"fulltext": "THE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\n139\\nof science. He was of opinion that the only\\nvaluable philosophy is that which teaches us\\nour moral duties and religious hopes. He\\nhated injustice and folly of all kinds, and\\nnever lost an occasion of exposing them.\\nHe expressed his contempt for the capacity\\nfor goverment assumed by all men. He\\nheld that only the wise were fit to govern,\\nand that they were the few.\\nCondemned to Die.\\nIn his seventy -second year he was brought\\nbefore the judges. The accusers stated their\\ncharge as follows Socrates is an evil-doer,\\nand corrupter of the youth he does not\\nreceive the gods whom the state receives,\\nbut introduces new divinities. He was tried\\non these grounds, and condemned to die.\\nHe was taken to his prison, and for thirty\\ndays he conversed with his friends on his\\nfavorite topics. Crito provided for him the\\nmeans of escaping from prison, but he would\\nnot avail himself of the opportunity. He\\nconversed about the immortality of the soul,\\nabout courage and virtue and temperance,\\nabout absolute beauty and absolute good,\\nand about his wife and children.\\nHe consoled his weeping friends, and\\ngently upraided them for their complaints\\nabout the injustice of his sentence. He was\\nabout to die. Why should they complain\\nHe was far advanced in years. Had they\\nwaited a short time, the thing would have\\nhappened in the course of nature. No man\\never welcomed death as a new birth to a\\nhigher state of being with greater faith. The\\ntime at length came when the jailer pre-\\nsented him with the cup of hemlock. He\\ndrank it with courage, and died in complete\\ncalmness. Such was the end, said Phaedo,\\nof our friend, whom I may truly call the\\nwisest and justest and best of all the men\\nwhom I have ever known.\\nAfter ages have cherished the memory of\\nhis virtues and of his fate, but without profit-\\ning much by his example, and without learn-\\ning tolerance from his stoiy. His name has\\nbecome a moral thesis for school-boys and\\nrhetoricians. Would that it could become\\na moral influence 1\\nThe New Testament gives a glorified ideal\\nof a possible human life; but hard are his\\nlabors who endeavors to keep that ideal\\nuppermost in his mind. We feel that there\\nis something else that we would like to do,\\nmuch better than the thing that is incum-\\nbent upon us. But duty is there, and it\\nmust be done, without dreaming or idling.\\nHow much of the philosophy of moral\\nhealth and happiness is involved in the\\ninjunction, Whatsoever thy hand findeth to\\ndo, do it with thy might. He that does\\nhis best, whatever his lot may be, is on the\\nsure road to advancement.\\nNo Right to be Useless.\\nIt is related of one, who in the depths of\\nhis despair cried, It is of no use to be good,\\nfor you cannot be good, and if you were, it\\nwould do you no good. It is hopeless,\\ntruthless and faithless, thus to speak of the\\ngoodness of word and work. Each one of\\nus can do a little good in our own sphere of\\nlife. If we can do it, we are bound to do it.\\nWe have no more right to render ourselves\\nuseless than to destroy ourselves.\\nWe have to be faithful in small things as\\nwell as in great. We are required to make\\nas good a use of our one talent as of the\\nmany talents that have been conferred upon\\nothers. We can follow the dictates of our con-\\nscience, and walk, though alone, in the paths\\nof duty. We can be honest, truthful, dili-\\ngent, were it only out of respect for one s\\nself. We have to be faithful even to the end.\\nWho is not struck with the answer of the\\nb", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0175.jp2"}, "176": {"fulltext": "140\\nTHE PATH OF- DUTY.\\nslave who, when asked by an intending pur-\\nchaser, Wilt thou be faithful if I buy\\nthee? Yes, said the slave, whether\\nyou buy me or not.\\nCharacter is made up of small duties\\nfaithfully performed of self-denials, of self-\\nsacrifices, of kindly acts of love and duty.\\nThe backbone of character is laid at home\\nand whether the constitutional tendencies be\\ngood or bad, home influences will as a rule\\nfan them into activity. He that is faithful\\nin little is faithful in much and he that is\\nunfaithful in little is unfaithful also in much.\\nKindness begets kindness, and truth and\\ntrust will bear a rich harvest of truth and\\ntrust. There are many little trivial acts of\\nkindness which teach us more about a man s\\ncharacter than many vague phrases. These\\nare easy to acquire, and their effects will\\nlast much longer than this very temporary\\nlife.\\nDuty of Kindness.\\nBe kind to each other\\nThe night s coming on,\\nWhen friend and when brother\\nPerchance may be gone\\nThen midst our dejection\\nHow sweet to have earned\\nThe blest recollection\\nOf kindness returned\\nWhen day hath departed,\\nAnd memory keeps\\nHer watch, broken-hearted.\\nWhere all she loved sleeps\\nhet falsehood assail not,\\nNor envy disprove\\nI/et trifles prevail not\\nAgainst those ye love\\nNor change with to-morrow\\nShould fortune take wing\\nBut the deeper the sorrow\\nThe closer still cling\\nOh, be kind to each other\\nThe night s coming on,\\nWhen friend and when brother\\nPerchance may be gone\\nCharIvES Swain.\\nNo good thing is ever lost. Nothing dies,\\nnot even life, which gives up one form only\\nto resume another. No good action, no\\ngood example, dies. It lives forever in our\\nrace. While the frame moulders and dis-\\nappears, the deed leaves an indelible stamp,\\nand moulds the very thought and will of\\nfuture generations. Time is not the measure\\nof a noble work the coming age will share\\nour joy. A single virtuous action has\\nelevated a whole village, a whole city, a\\nwhole nation. The present moment, says\\nGoethe, is a powerful deity. Man s best\\nproducts are his happy and sanctifying\\nthoughts, which, when once formed and put\\nin practice, extend their fertilizing influence\\nfor thousands of years, and from generation\\nto generation. It is from small seeds dropped\\ninto the ground that the finest productions\\ngrow and it is from the inborn dictates of\\nconscience and the inspired principle of duty\\nthat the finest growths of character have\\narisen.\\nStruggling Upward.\\nThe sense of duty smooths our path\\nthrough life. It helps us to know, to learn,\\nand to obey. It gives us the power of over-\\ncoming difficulties, of resisting temptations,\\nof doing that for which we strive of becom-\\ning honest, kind and true. All experience\\nteaches us that we become that which we\\nmake ourselves. We strive against inclina-\\ntions to do wrong, we strive for the inclina-\\ntion to do right, and little by little we become\\nthat for which we strive. Every day s effort\\nmakes the struggle easier. We reap as we\\nhave sown.\\nThe true way to excel in any effort is to\\npropose the brightest and most perfect\\nexample for imitation. We improve by the\\nattempt, even though we fall short of the\\nfull perfection. Character will always ope^", "height": "3477", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0176.jp2"}, "177": {"fulltext": "THE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\n141\\nrate. There may be little culture, slender\\nabilities, no property, no position in so-\\nciety; yet, if there be a character of ster-\\nling excellence, it will command influence\\nand secure respect. The edge of our facul-\\nties is seldom worn out by use, but it is very\\noften rusted away by sloth. It is fervor and\\nindustry alone which give the beauty and the\\nbrightness to human life, and that life is noble\\nwhich is actuated by a sense of duty.\\nODE TO DUTY.\\nStern Daughter of the Voice of God\\nO Duty, if that name thou love,\\nWho art a light to guide, a rod\\nTo check the erring, and reprove\\nThou, who art victory and law\\nWhen empty terrors overawe.\\nFrom vain temptations dost set free,\\nAnd calm st the weary strife of frail humanity I\\nThere are who ask not if thine eye\\nBe on them who in love and truth.\\nWhere no misgiving is, rely\\nUpon the genial sense of youth\\nGlad hearts without reproach or blot\\nWho do thy work, and know it not\\nOh if through confidence misplaced\\nThey fail, thy saving arms, dread Power around\\nthem cast.\\nSerene will be our days and bright.\\nAnd happy will our nature be.\\nWhen love is an unerring light,\\nAnd joy its own security.\\nAnd they a blissful course may hold\\nEven now, who, not unwisely bold,\\nLive in the spirit of this creed\\nYet seek thy firm support, according to their need.\\nI, loving freedom, and untried.\\nNo sport of every random gust.\\nYet being to myself a guide.\\nToo blindly have reposed my trust\\nAnd oft, when in my heart was heard\\nThy timely mandate, I deferred\\nThe task, in smoother walks to stray\\nBut thee I now would serve more strictly if I may.\\nThough no disturbance of my soul.\\nOr strong compunction in me wrought,\\nI supplicate for thy control\\nBut in the quietness of thought\\nMe this unchartered freedom tires\\nI feel the weight of chance desires\\nMy hopes no more must change their name,\\nI long for a repose that ever is the same.\\nStern Lawgiver yet thou dost wear\\nThe Godhead s most benignant grace\\nNor know we anything so fair\\nAs is the smile upon thy face\\nFlowers laugh before thee on their beds.\\nAnd fragrance in thy footing treads\\nThou dost preserve the stars from wrong.\\nAnd the most ancient heavens through thee are\\nfresh and strong.\\nTo humbler functions, awful Power\\nI call thee I myself commend\\nUnto thy guidance from this hour\\nO let my weakness have an end\\nGive unto me, made lowly wise.\\nThe spirit of self-sacrifice\\nThe confidence of reason give\\nAnd in the light of truth thy bondman let me live f\\nWmiAM Wordsworth.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0177.jp2"}, "178": {"fulltext": "BE SURE YOU ARE RIGHT, THEN GO AHEAD. David Crockett.\\n142", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0178.jp2"}, "179": {"fulltext": "CHAPTKR VIII.\\nBE RIQHT, THEN (QO AHEAD.\\nYRUS Field said It has been\\na long and hard struggle to\\nlay the Atlantic telegraph\\nnearly thirteen years of anxious\\nwatching and ceaseless toil.\\nOften has my heart been ready\\nto sink. I have sometimes almost accused\\nmyself of madness for sacrificing all my home\\ncomforts for what might, after all, prove a\\ndream. I have seen my companions one\\nafter another fall by my side, and feared that\\nI, too, might not live to see the end. I have\\noften prayed that I might not taste of death\\ntill this work was accomplished. That\\nprayer is now answered.\\nA friend once said to President Lincoln\\nDo you expect to end this war during your\\nadministration Mr. Lincoln replied I\\ndo not know, sir. But Mr. Lincoln, what\\ndo you mean to do? Peg away, sir\\npeg away, keep pegging away! Pegging\\naway did it.\\nBe sure you re right, then go ahead, is\\nU saying full of practical wisdom. If you\\nire wrong, better not go ahead if you are\\nHght, do not waste a moment in going\\nahead. Consider before you act, but having\\nconsidered and made sure that you are on\\nthe right track, action is now a solemn duty.\\nAnd what you know to be right is the only\\nthing to be done. To do the wrong is to\\nsow the wind if you sow the wind, you\\nmust reap the whirlwind.\\nTo do right has no risks about it you\\nare on the safe side. There is no law in\\nheaven or earth that sends a man to state-\\nprison for doing right. The trouble is, many\\nmen who ought to be in state-prison are not\\nthere. This is their luck they have escaped,\\nbut it is still true that wrong-doing means\\ndishonor, the criminal s cell and the hang-\\nman s rope.\\nDare to do Right.\\nDare to do right dare to be true\\nYou have a work that no other can do\\nDo it so bravely, so kindly, so well,\\nAngels will hasten the story to tell.\\nDare to do right dare to be true\\nOther men s failures can never save you.\\nStand by your conscience, your honor, your faitk^\\nStand like a hero and battle till death.\\nDare to do right dare to be true\\nIvove may deny you its sunshine and dew.\\nLtt the dew fail, for then showers shall be given\\nDew is from earth, but the showers are from heaven.\\nDare Ic do right dare to be true\\nGod, who created you, cares for you too.\\nTreasures the tears that his striving ones shed,\\nCounts and protects every haii of your head.\\nDare to do right dare to be true\\nCannot Omnipotence carry you through\\nCity and mansion and throne all in sight.\\nCan you not dare to be true and be right?\\nDare fo do right ctare to fee trtie f\\nKeep the great judgment-seat always in view\\nLook at your work as you ll look at it then,\\nScanned by Jehovah and angels and men.\\nDare to do right dare to be true\\nPrayerfully, lovingly, firmly pursue\\nThe path by apostles and martyrs once trod,\\nThe path of the just to the city of God.\\nGeorge Lansing Tayi,or.\\n143", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0179.jp2"}, "180": {"fulltext": "144\\nTHE INFLUJiNCE OF HOME.\\nI once heard a poor man say to a rich\\nman, I would not condescend to tell you a\\nlie for all you are worth. The other\\nreplied, No one expects you to tell a lie,\\nand if money would buy falsehood, every\\ncent I am worth might perish before I\\nwould give it for that purpose. In this\\nconversation, heard incidentally, we get a\\nglimpse of the true standard of living.\\nAfraid of Lions.\\nHe who has well considered his duty will\\nat once carry his convictions into action.\\nOur acts are the only things that are in our\\npower. They not only form the sum of our\\nhabits, but of our character. We can do\\nright we are not only to think right and\\ntalk right this is not enough. Says Charles\\nKingsley\\nDo noble things, not dieam them, all day long.\\nAnd so make life, death, and that vast forever, one\\ngrand, sweet song.\\nAt the same time, the course of duty is\\nnot always the easy course. It has many\\noppositions and difficulties to surmount. We\\nmay have the sagacity to see, but not the\\nstrength of purpose to do. To the irresolute\\nthere is many a lion in the way. He thinks\\nand moralizes and dreams, but does nothing.\\nThere is little to see, said a hard worker,\\nand little to do it is only to do it.\\nThe man whose first question, after a right\\ncourse of action has presented itself, is\\nWhat will people say? is not the man to\\ndo anything at all. But if he asks, Is it\\nmy duty? he can then proceed in his noble\\nachievements, and be ready to incur men s\\ncensure, and even to brave their ridicule.\\nLet us have faith in fine actions, says a\\ngood writer, and let us reserve doubt and\\nincredulity for bad. It is even better to be\\ndeceived than to distrust.\\nDuty is first learned at home. The child\\ncomes into the world helpless and dependent\\non others for its health, nurtuie, and moral\\nand physical development. The child at\\nlength imbibes ideas under proper influences\\nhe learns to obey, to control himself, to be\\nkind to others, to be dutiful and happy. He\\nhas a will of his own but whether it will be\\nwell or ill directed depends very much upon\\nparental influences.\\nYou should have a strong will, and never\\nso strong as in doing the right. When the\\ntrue man, bent on good, holds by his pur-\\npose, he places but small value on the\\nrewards or praises of the world his own\\napproving conscience, and the well done\\nwhich awaits him is his best reward.\\nAlexander and Napoleon.\\nUnless the direction of the character be\\nright, the strong will may be merely a power\\nfor mischief In great tyrants it is a demon\\nAvith power to wield, it knows no bounds nor\\nrestraint. It holds millions subject to it;\\ninflames their passions, excites them to\\nmilitary fury, and is never satisfied but in\\nconquering, destroying, and tyrannizing. The\\nstrong will produces an Alexander or a\\nNapoleon. Alexander cried because there\\nwere no more kingdoms to conquer and\\nBonaparte, after overrunning Europe, spent\\nhis force amid the snovvs of Russia. Con-\\nquest has made me, he said, and conquest\\nmust maintain ine. But he was a man of\\nno moral principle, and Europe cast him\\naside when his work of destruction was\\ndone.\\nThe strong will, allied to right motives, is\\nas full of blessings as the other is of mis-\\nchief The man thus influenced moves and\\ninflames the minds and consciences of\\nothers. He bends them to his views of\\nduty, carries them with him in his endeavors", "height": "3473", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0180.jp2"}, "181": {"fulltext": "BE RIGHT, THEN GO AHEAD.\\n145\\nto secure worthy objects, and directs opinion\\nto the suppression of wrong and the estab-\\nlishment of right. The man of strong will\\nstamps power upon his actions. His ener-\\ngetic perseverance becomes habitual. He\\ngives a tone to the company in which he is,\\nto the society in which he lives, and even to\\nthe nation in which he is born. He is a joy\\nto the timid, and a perpetual reproach to the\\nsluggard. He sets the former on their feet\\nby giving them hope. He may even inspire\\nthe latter to good deeds by the influence of\\nhis example.\\nBlown About by Every Wind.\\nBesides the men of strong bad wills and\\nstrong good wills, there is a far larger num-\\nber who have very weak wills, or no wills at\\nall. They are characterless. They have no\\nstrong will for vice, yet they have none for\\nvirtue. They are the passive recipients of\\nimpressions, which, however, take no hold\\nof them. They seem neither to go forward\\nnor backward. As the wind blows, so their\\nvane turns round and when the wind\\nblows from another quarter, it turns round\\nagain. Any instrument can write on such\\nspirits any will can govern theirs. They\\ncherish- no truth strongly, and do not know\\nwhat earnestness is. Such persons consti-\\ntute the mass of society everywhere the\\ncareless, the passive, the submissive, the\\nfeeble, and the indifferent.\\nIt is, therefore, of the utmost importance\\nthat attention should be directed to the im-\\nprovement and stengthening of the will for\\nwithout this there can neither be independ-\\nence, nor firmness, nor individuality of char-\\nacter. Without it we cannot give truth its\\nproper force, nor morals their proper direc-\\ntion, nor save ourselves from being machines\\nin the hands of worthless and designing men.\\nIntellectual cultivation will not give decision\\nof character. Philosophers discuss; deci-\\nsive men act. Not to resolve, says Bacon,\\nis to resolve that is, to do nothing.\\nOn the summit of a hill in a Western\\nState is a court house, so situated that the\\nrain-drops which fall on one side of the\\nroof descend into Lake Erie and thence\\nthrough the St. Lawrence into the Atlantic.\\nThe rain-drops which fall on the other side,\\ntrickle down from rivulet to rivulet until they\\nreach the Ohio and Mississippi, and finally\\nenter the ocean by the Gulf of Mexico. A\\nfaint breath of wind determines the destina-\\ntion of these rain-drops for three thousand\\nmiles. A single act determines, sometimes,\\na human destiny for all time and for eternity.\\nWhen Kossuth was an exile in Turkey,\\nthe government was strongly pressed by Rus-\\nsia and Austria to give him up. The expe-\\ndient was resorted to of making his protec-\\ntion contingent on his embracing Moham-\\nmedanism. Hear his reply: My answer\\nadmits of no hesitation. Between death and\\nshame, the choice can neither be dubious\\nnor difficult. I know what I owe to my\\ncountry; I know my duty as a private\\nindividual. I am prepared to die.\\nPatrick Henry s Courage.\\nWhen Patrick Henry, who gave the first\\nimpulse to the ball of the American Revolu-\\ntion, introduced his celebrated resolution on\\nthe Stamp Act into the House of Burgesses\\nof Virginia (May, 1765), he exclaimed, when\\ndescanting on the tyranny of the obnoxious\\nact: Caesar had his Brutus; Charles the\\nFirst his Cromwell; and George the Third\\nTreason! cried the speaker. Trea-\\nson! treason! echoed from every part of\\nthe house. It was one of those trying mo-\\nments which are decisive of character.\\nHenry faltered not for an instant but rising\\nto a loftier attitude, and fixing on the speaker", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0181.jp2"}, "182": {"fulltext": "146\\nTHE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\nan eye flashing with fire, continued may\\nprofit by their example. If this be treason,\\nmake the most of it.\\nThese examples of decision of character,\\nbeing sure of the right and then going\\nahead, will never cease to be read, for they\\npoint to the highest type of man. Men\\ncannot be raised in masses, as the mountains\\nwere in the early geological states of the world\\nThey must be dealt with as units for it is\\nonly by the elevation of individuals that the\\nelevation of the masses can be effectually\\nsecured. Teachers and preachers may influ-\\nence them from without, but the main action\\ncomes from within. Individual men must\\nexert themselves and help themselves, other-\\nwise they never can be effectually helped by\\nothers.\\nHome is the Cradle of Virtue.\\nMere cultivation of the intellect has hardly\\nany influence upon conduct. Creeds posted\\nupon the memory will not eradicate vicious\\npropensities. The intellect is merely an in-\\nstrument, which is moved and worked by\\nforces behind it by emotions, by self-\\nrestraint, by self-control, by imagination, by\\nenthusiasm, by everything that gives force\\nand energy to character.\\nThe most of these principles are implanted\\nat home, and not at school. Where the\\nhome is miserable, worthless, and unprin-\\ncipled a place rather to be avoided than\\nentered then school is the only place for\\nlearning obedience and discipline. At the\\nsame time, home is the true soil where virtue\\ngrows. The events of the household are\\nmore near and affecting to us than those of\\nthe school and the academy. It is in the\\nstudy of the home that the true character\\nand hopes of the times are to be consulted.\\nTo train up their households is the busi-\\nness of the old to obey their parents and\\nto grow in wisdom is the business of the\\nyoung. Education is a work of authority\\nand respect. Christianity, according to\\nGuizot, is the greatest school of respect that\\nthe world has ever seen. Religious instruc-\\ntion alone imparts the spirit of self-sacrifice,\\ngreat virtues, and lofty thoughts. It pene-\\ntrates to the conscience, and makes life\\nbearable without a murmur against the mys-\\ntery of human conditions.\\nThe Object of Training.\\nThe great end of training, says a great\\nwriter, is liberty and the sooner you can\\nget a child to be a law unto himself, the\\nsooner you will make a man of him. I will\\nrespect human liberty in the smallest child\\neven more scrupulously than in a grown\\nman for the latter can defend it against me,\\nwhile the child cannot. Never will I insult\\nthe child so far as to regard him as material\\nto be cast into a mould, to emerge with the\\nstamp given by my will.\\nPaternal authority and family independence\\nis a sacred domain and, if momentarily ob-\\nscured in troublous times. Christian sentiment\\nprotests and resists until it regains its\\nauthority. But liberty is not all that should\\nbe struggled for obedience, self-restraint,\\nand self-government, are the conditions to be\\nchiefly aimed at. The latter is the principal\\nend of education. It is not imparted by\\nteaching, but by example. The first instruc-\\ntion for youth, says Bonald, consists in\\nhabits, not in reasonings, in examples rather\\nthan in direct lessons. Example preaches\\nbetter than precept, and that too because it is\\nso much more difficult. At the same time,\\nthe best influences grow slowly, and in a\\ngradual correspondence with human needs.\\nTo act rightly, then, is the safety-valve of\\nour moral nature. Good-will is not enough;\\nit does not always produce good deeds.", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0182.jp2"}, "183": {"fulltext": "BE RIGHT. THEN GO AHEAD.\\n147\\nPersevering action does most. What is done\\nwith diligence and toil imparts to the spec-\\ntator a silent force, of which we cannot say\\nhow far it may reach.\\nNoble work is the true educator. Idle-\\nness is a thorough demoralizer of body, soul,\\nand conscience. Nine-tenths of the vices\\nand miseries of the world proceed from idle-\\nness. Without work there can be no active\\nprogress in human welfare.\\nBase Idleness.\\nI waste no more in idle dreams\\nMy life, my soul away\\nI wake to know my better self\\nI wake to watch and pray.\\nThought, feeling, time, on idols vain,\\nI ve lavished all too long\\nHenceforth to holier purposes\\nI pledge myself, my song\\nI shut mine eyes in grief and shame\\nUpon the dreary past\\nMy heart, my soul poured recklessly\\nOn dreams that could not last\\nMy bark was drifted down the stream,\\nAt will of wind or wave\\nAn idle, light and fragile thing.\\nThat few had cared to save.\\nHenceforth the tiller Truth shall hold,\\nAnd steer as conscience tells.\\nAnd I will brave the storms of fate,\\nThough vnld the ocean swells.\\nI know my soul is strong and high,\\nIf once I give it sway\\nI feel a glorious power within.\\nThough light I seem and gay.\\nOh, laggard soul unclose thine eyes\\nNo more in luxury soft\\nOf joy ideal waste thyself:\\nAwake and soar aloft\\nUnfurl this hour those falcon wings\\nWhich thou dost fold too long\\nRaise to the skies thy lightning gaze.\\nAnd sing thy loftiest song\\nFrances Sargent Osgood.\\nO Have we difficulties to contend with Then\\nwork through them. No exorcism charms\\nlike labor. Idleness of mind and body re-\\nsembles rust. It wears more than work. I\\nwould rather work out than rust out, said\\na noble worker. Schiller said that he found\\nthe greatest happiness in life to consist in the\\nperformance of some mechanical duty. He\\nwas also of opinion that the sense of beauty\\nnever furthered the performance of a single\\nduty. The highest order of being is that\\nwhich loses sight in resolution, and feeling\\nin work.\\nThe greatest of difficulties often lie where\\nwe are not looking for them. When painful\\nevents occur, they are, perhaps, sent only to\\ntry and prove us. If we stand firm in our\\nhour of trial, the firmness gives serenity to\\nthe mind, which always feels satisfaction in\\nacting conformably to duty. The battles\\nof the wilderneos, said Norman Macleod,\\nare the sore battles of everyday life. Their\\ngiants are our giants, their sorrows our sor-\\nrows, their defeats and victories ours also.\\nAs they had honors, defeats and victories,\\nso have we.\\nHow to Meet Difficulties.\\nThe school of difficulty is the best school\\nof moral discipline. When difficulties have\\nto be encountered, they must be met with\\ncourage and cheerfulness. Did not Aristotle\\nsay that happiness is not so much in our\\nobjects as in our energies? Grappling with\\ndifficulties is the surest way of overcoming\\nthem. The determination to realize an object\\nis the moral conviction that we can and will\\naccomplish it. Our wits are sharpened by\\nour necessity, and the individual man stands\\nforth to meet and overcome the difficulties\\nwhich stand in his way.\\nRobert Bruce had been defeated twelve\\ntimes by Edward. His troops were scattered\\nand he had taken shelter in a barn. While in\\nthe barn he saw a spider trying to climb a\\nbeam of the roof. It fell down twelve times.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0183.jp2"}, "184": {"fulltext": "148\\nTHE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\nThe thirteenth time it climbed to the top.\\nBruce said to himself, Why should I not\\npersevere also? He rallied his troops,\\ndefeated Edward, and was crowned king.\\nMr. Disraeli failed in his first speech in the\\nHouse of Commons. As he took his seat\\nhe uttered the prediction, The day will\\ncome when you will be glad to hear me.\\nRobert Hall, the great non-conformist\\npreacher, broke down in his first sermon.\\nGeorge Stephenson was laughed at when he\\nfirst talked of a locomotive and a railway.\\nMr. Thackeray had great difficulty in finding\\na publisher willing to publish Vanity Fair.\\nBishop Simpson failed in his first sermon.\\nHis earliest pulpit efforts were so poor that\\nliis friends advised him not to enter the\\nministry. History is full of such examples.\\nDon t be discouraged. If at first you\\ndon t succeed, try again.\\nA Sign of ^A/eakness.\\nThe memoirs of men who have thrown\\ntheir opportunities away would constitute a\\npainful but a memorable volume for the\\nworld s instruction. No strong man, in\\ngood health, says Ebenezer Elliot, can be\\nneglected, if he be true to himself For the\\nbenefit of the young, I wish we had a correct\\naccount of the number of persons who fail\\nof success, in a thousand who resolutely\\nstrive to do well. I do not think it exceeds\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2one per cent. Men grudge success, but it\\nis only the last term of what looked like a\\nseries of failures. They failed at first, then\\nagain and again, but at last their difficulties\\nvanished, and success was achieved.\\nThe desire to possess, without being bur-\\ndened with the trouble of acquiring, is a\\ngreat sign of weakness and laziness. Every-\\nthing that is worth enjoying or possessing\\ncan only be got by the pleasure of working.\\nThis is the great secret of practical strength.\\nOne may very distinctly prefer industry to\\nindolence, the healthful exercise of all one s\\nfaculties to allowing them to rest unused in\\ndrowsy torpor. In the long run we shall\\nproably find that the exercise of the faculties\\nhas of itself been the source of a more genu-\\nine happiness than has followed the actual\\nattainment of what the exercise was directed\\nto procure.\\nSeizing Opportunities.\\nIt has been said of a great judge that he\\nnever threw a legitimate opportunity away,\\nbut that he never condescended to avail\\nhimself of one that was unlawful. What he\\nhad to do, at any period of his career, was\\ndone with his whole heart and soul. If\\nfailure should result from his labors, self-\\nreproach could not affect him, for he had\\ntried to do his best.\\nWe must work, trusting that some of the\\ngood seed we throw into the ground will\\ntake root and spring up into deeds of well-\\ndoing. What man begins for himself God\\nfinishes for others. Indeed, we can finish\\nnothing. Others begin where we leave off,\\nand carry on our work to a stage nearer\\nperfection. We have to bequeath to those\\nwho come after us a noble design, worthy of\\nimitation. Well done, well doing, and well\\nto do, are inseparable conditions that reach\\nthrough all the ages of eternity.\\nVery f^jw people can realize the idea that\\nthey are of no use in the world. The fact of\\ntheir existence implies the necessity for their\\nexistence. The world is before them. They\\nhave their choice of good and evil of use-\\nfulness and idleness. What have they clone\\nwith their time and means Have they\\nshown the world that their existence has\\nbeen of any use whatever Have they made\\nany one the better because of their life?\\nHas their career been a mere matter of idle-", "height": "3475", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0184.jp2"}, "185": {"fulltext": "14?", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0185.jp2"}, "186": {"fulltext": "150\\nTHE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\nness and selfishness, of laziness and indiffer-\\nence Have they been seeking pleasure\\nPleasure flies before idleness. Happiness is\\nout of the reach of laziness. Pleasure and\\nhappiness are the fruits of work and labor,\\nnever of carelessness and indifference.\\nA resolute will is needed not only for the\\nperformance of difficult duties, but in order\\nto go promptly, energetically, and with self-\\npossession, through the thousand difficult\\nthings which come in almost everybody s\\nway. Thus courage is as necessary as\\nintegrity in the performance of duty. The\\nforce may seem small which is needed to\\ncarry one cheerfully through any of these\\nthings singly, but to encounter one by one\\nthe crowding aggregate, and never to be\\ntaken by surprise, or thrown out of temper,\\nis one of the last attainments of the human\\nspirit.\\nUp e-.d At It.\\nEvery generation has to bear its own\\nburden, to weather its peculiar perils, to pass\\nthrough its manifold trials. We are daily\\nexposed to temptations, whether it be of\\nidleness, self-indulgence, or vice. The feel-\\ning of duty and the power of courage must\\nresist these things at whatever sacrifice of\\nworldly interest. When virtue has thus be-\\ncome a daily habit, we become possessed of\\nan individual character, prepared for fulfilling,\\nin a great measure, the ends for which we\\nwere created.\\nHow much is lost to the world for want of\\na little courage We have the willingness\\nto do, but we fail to do it. The state of the\\nworld is such, and so much depends on\\naction that everything seems to say loudly\\nto every man, Do something; do it, do it.\\nThe poor country parson, fighting against\\nevil in his parish, against wrong-doing,\\ninjustice, and iniquity, has nobler ideas of\\nduty than Alexander the Great ever had.\\nSome men are mere apologies for workers,\\neven when they pretend to be up and at it.\\nThey stand shivering on the brink, and have\\nnot the courage to plunge in. Every day\\nsends to the grave a number of obscure men,\\nwho, if they had had the courage to begin,\\nwould, in all probability, have gone great\\nlengths in the career of well-doing.\\nNo Place for Cowards.\\nProfessor Wilson, of Edinburgh, in teach-\\ning his students, almost put foremost the\\nsense of duty; moreover, of duty in action.\\nHis lectures deeply influenced the characters\\nof those who listened to him. He sent them\\nforth to fight the battle of life valiantly like\\nthe old Danish hero to dare nobly, to will\\nstrongly, and never to falter in the path of\\nduty. Such was his creed.\\nThere is a great deal of trimming in the\\nworld, for the most part arising from the\\nwant of courage. When Luther said to\\nErasmus, You desire to walk upon eggs\\nwithout crushing them, and among glasses\\nwithout breaking them, the timorous, hesi-\\ntating Erasmus replied, I will not be\\nunfaithful to the cause of Christ, at least\\nso far as the age will permit mey Luther\\nwas of a very different character. I will\\ngo to Worms though devils were combined\\nagainst me as thick as the tiles upon the\\nhousetops. Or like St. Paul, I am ready,\\nnot only to be bound, but to die at Jeru-\\nsalem.\\nA very successful man once said, One\\ntrait of my character is thorough seriousness.\\nI am indifferent about nothing that I under-\\ntake. In fact, if I undertake to do a thing,\\nI cannot be indifferent. This makes all\\nthe difference between a strong man and a\\nweak man. The brave men are often killed,\\nthe talkers are left behind, the cowards run", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0186.jp2"}, "187": {"fulltext": "BE RIGHT. THEiN GO AHEAD.\\n151\\naway. Deeds show what we are, words\\nonly what we should be. Every moment\\nof a working life may be a decisive victory.\\nThe joy of creation more than returns all\\nthe pains of labor; and, as the conscious\\nlabor against external obstacles is the first\\njoy of awakening life, so the completed work\\nis the most intense of pleasures, bringing to\\nfull birth in us the sense of personality, and\\nconsecrating our triumph, if only partial and\\nmomentary, over nature. Such is the true\\ncharacter of effort or will in action.\\nActions Conquer.\\nA man is a miracle of genius because he\\nhas been a miracle of labor. Strength can\\nconquer circumstances. The principle of\\naction is too powerful for any circumstances\\nto resist. It clears the way, and elevates\\nitself above every object, above fortune and\\nmisfortune, good and evil. The joys that\\ncome to us in this world are but to\\nstrengthen us for some greater labor that\\nis to succeed. Man s wisdom appears in\\nhis actions; for every man is the son of his\\nown work. Richter says that good deeds\\nring clear through heaven like a bell.\\nActive and sympathetic contact with man\\nin the transactions of daily life is a better\\npreparation for healthy, robust action than\\nany amount of meditation and seclusion.\\nWhat Swedenborg said about vowing poverty\\nand retiring from the world in order to live\\nmore to heaven seems reasonable and true.\\nThe life that leads to heaven, he said, is\\nnot a life of retirement from the world, but\\nof action in the world. A life of charity,\\nwhich consists in acting sincerely and justly\\nin every enjoyment and work, in obedience\\nto the divine law, is not difficult; but a life\\nof piety alone is difficult, and it leads away\\nfrom heaven as much as it is commonly\\nbelieved to lead to it.\\nWith many people religion is merely a\\nmatter of words. So far as words go, we\\ndo what we think right. But the words\\nrarely lead to action, thought and conduct,\\nor to purity, goodness and honesty. There\\nis too much playing at religion, and too little\\nof enthusiastic hard work. There is a great\\ndeal of reading about rehgion; but true\\nreligion, embodied in human character and\\naction, is more instructive than a thousand\\ndoctrinal volumes. If a man possesses not\\na living and strong will that leads the way\\nto good, he will either become a plaything\\nof sensual desires, or pass a life of sham.eless\\nindolence.\\nOne of the greatest dangers that at pres-\\nent beset the youth of our country is laziness.\\nWhat is called culture amounts to little.\\nIt may be associated with the meanest moral\\ncharacter, abject servility to those in high\\nplaces, and arrogance to the poor and lowly.\\nThe fast, idle youth believes nothing, vene-\\nrates nothing, hopes nothing; no, not even\\nthe final triumph of good in human hearts.\\nNot All the Same.\\nThere are many Mr. Tootses in the world,\\nsaying, It s all the same, It s of no con-\\nsequence. It is not all the same, nor will\\nit be all the same a hundred years hence.\\nThe life of each man tells upon the whole\\nlife of society. Each man has his special\\nduty to perform, his special work to do. If\\nhe does it not, he himself suffers, and others\\nsuffer through him. His idleness infects\\nothers, and propagates a bad example. A\\nuseless life is only an early death.\\nThere is far too much croaking among\\nyoung men. Instead of setting to work\\nupon the thing they dream of, they utter\\nquerulous complaints which lead to no\\naction. Is life worth living? Certainly\\nnot, if it be wasted in idleness. Even", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0187.jp2"}, "188": {"fulltext": "152\\nTHE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\nreading is often regarded as a mental dissi-\\npation. It is only a cultivated apathy.\\nHence you find so many grumbling, indif-\\nferent, loud youths, their minds polished\\ninto a sort of intellectual keenness and\\ncleverness, breaking out into sarcasm upon\\nthe acts of others, but doing nothing them-\\nselves. They sneer at earnestness of char-\\nacter. A lamentable indifference possesses\\nthese intellectual vagrants. Their souls, if\\nthey are conscious of possessing them, are\\nblown about by every passing wind. They\\nunderstand without beheving. The thoughts\\nwhich such minds receive produce no acts.\\nThey hold no principles or convictions.\\nThe religious element is ignored. Their\\ncreed is nothing, out of which nothing\\ncomes; no aspirations after the higher life,\\nno yearnings after noble ideas or a still\\nnobler character.\\nA Living Book.\\nAnd yet we have plenty of intellect, but\\nno faith plenty of knowledge, but no wis-\\ndom; plenty of culture, but no loving-\\nkindness. A nation may possess refinement,\\nand possess nothing else. Knowledge and\\nwisdom, so far from being one, have often no\\nconnection with each other. It may be\\ndoubted whether erudition tends to promote\\nwisdom or goodness. Fenelon says it is\\nbetter to be a good living book than to love\\ngood books. A multifarious reading may\\nplease, but does not feed the mind. St.\\nAnselm said that God often works more\\nby the life of the illiterate, seeking the things\\nwhich are God s, than by the ability of the\\nlearned seeking the things that are their\\nown.\\nHere is the portrait which a great French\\nwriter has drawn of his contemporaries\\nWhat do you perceive on all sides but a\\nprofound indifference as to creeds and duties,\\nwith an ardor for pleasure and for gold,\\nwhich can procure everything you desire\\nEverything can be bought conscience,\\nhonor, religion, opinion, dignities, power,\\nconsideration, respect itself vast shipwrecks\\nof all truths and of all virtues All philoso-\\nphical theories, all the doctrines of impiety,\\nhave dissolved themselves and disappeared\\nin the devouring system of indifference, the\\nactual tomb of the understanding, into which\\nit goes down alone, naked, equally stripped\\nof truth and error an empty sepulchre,\\nwhere one cannot find even bones.\\nThe Riches of the Heart.\\nIt is this state of society that breeds\\nanarchy and confusion. Moral restraint is\\nignored, law is despised, human life is cheap,\\nand the assassination of a Russian Czar, one\\nor two American Presidents, a Mayor of\\nChicago, and a President of the French\\nRepublic, are the legitimate fruit of the seed\\nthat has been sown. There are those who\\nchange the title of this chapter and say, Be\\nwrong, then go ahead.\\nAnd there are those who sneer at the old-\\nfashioned virtues of industry and self-denial,\\nenergy and self-help. Theirs is a mere\\ncreed of chilling negations, in which there is\\nnothing to admire, nothing to hope for.\\nThey are sceptics in everything, doing no\\nwork themselves, but denying the works of\\nothers. They believe in nothing except\\nin themselves. They are their own little\\ngods.\\nOh, the vain pride of mere intellectual\\nability how worthless, how contemptible,\\nwhen contrasted with the riches of the heart\\nWhat is the understanding of the hard dry\\ncapacity of the brain and body A mere\\ndead skeleton of opinions, a few dry bones\\ntied up together, if there be not a soul to add\\nmoisture and life, substance and reality, truth", "height": "3476", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0188.jp2"}, "189": {"fulltext": "BE RIGHT, THEN GO AHEAD.\\n153\\nk\\nand joy. Every one will remember the\\nmodest saying of Newton perhaps the\\ngreatest man who ever lived the discoverer\\nof the method of Fluxions, the theory of\\nuniversal gravitation, and the decomposition\\nof Hght that he felt himself but as a child\\nplaying by the seashore, while the immense\\nocean of truth lay all unexplored before him\\nHave we any philosophers who will make\\nsuch a confession now?\\nPursuit of Knowledge.\\nWhat is its earthly victory Press on\\nFor it hath tempted angels. Yet press on\\nFor it shall make you mighty among men\\nAnd from the eyry of your eagle thought\\nYe shall look down on monarchs. O press on\\nFor the high ones and powerful shall come\\nTo do you reverence and the beautiful\\nWill know the purer language of your brow.\\nAnd read it like a talisman of love\\nPress on for it is god-like to unloose\\nThe spirit, and forget yourself in thought\\nBending a pinion for the deeper sky,\\nAnd, in the very fetters of your flesh,\\nMating with the pure essence of heaven\\nPress on for in the grave there is no work,\\nAnd no device. Press on while yet ye may\\nN. P. Willis.\\nWhat We Should Know.\\nWhat is true knowledge Is it with keen eye\\nOf lucre s sons to thread the mazy way?\\nIs it of civic rights, and royal sway,\\nAnd wealth political, the depths to try?\\nIs it to delve the earth, or soar the sky\\nTo marshal nature s tribes in just array?\\nTo mix, and analyze, and mete, and weigh\\nHer elements, and all her powers descry?\\nThese things, who will may know them, if to know\\nBreed not vain glory. But o er all to scan\\nGod, in His works and word shown forth below\\nCreation s wonders, and Redemption s plan\\nWhence came we, what to do, and whither go\\nThis is true knowledge, and the whole of man.\\nBishop Mant.\\nThere are truths, said a well known\\nauthor, which man can only attain by the\\nspirit of his heart. A good man is often\\nastonished to find persons of great ability\\nresist proofs which appear clear to him.\\nThese persons are deficient in a certain\\nfaculty; that is the true meaning. When\\nthe cleverest man does not possess a sense\\nof religion, we cannot only not conquer hiai,\\nbut we have not even the means of making\\nhim understand us. Again, Sir Humphry\\nDavy said, Reason is often a dead weight\\nin life, destroying feeling, and substituting\\nfor principle only calculation and caution.\\nBut the widest field of duty lies outside\\nthe line of literature and books. Men are\\nsocial beings more than intellectual creatures.\\nThe best part of human cultivation is derived\\nfrom social contact hence courtesy, self-\\nrespect, mutual toleration, and self-sacrifice\\nfor the good of others. Experience of men\\nis wider than literature. Life is a book which\\nlasts one s lifetime, but it requires wisdom to\\nunderstand its difficult pages.\\nWhat Hugh Miller Said.\\nIn the old times boys had duty placed\\nbefore them as an incentive. To fail was to\\ndisgrace one s self, and to succeed was\\nmerely to do one s duty. i\\\\.s for the\\ndream, said Hugh Miller, that there is to\\nbe some extraordinary elevation of the gen-\\neral platform of the human race achieved by\\nmeans of education, it is simply the halluci-\\nnation of the age the world s present\\nalchemical expedient for converting farthings\\ninto guineas, sheerly by dint of scouring.\\nWhat spectacle can be sadder than to see\\nmen, and even women, passing their lives in\\ntheorizing and gossiping over the great prin-\\nciples which their forefathers really believed\\nand by believing which, they secured for\\ntheir generation the gifts of faith, of goodness,\\nand of well-doing There are two thoughts\\nwhich, if once admitted to the mind, change\\nour whole course of life the belief that this", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0189.jp2"}, "190": {"fulltext": "154\\nTHE INFLUENCE OF HOME.\\nworld is but the vestibule of an endless state\\nof being, and the thought of Him in whom\\nman lives here, or shall live hereafter. We\\neach have the choice of following good or\\nfollowing evil. Who shall say which shall\\nprove the mightier It depends upon our-\\nselves on our awakened conscience and\\nenlightened will.\\nTroubles and sorrows may have to be\\nencountered in performing our various duties.\\nBut these have to be done, and done cheer-\\nfully, because it is the will of God. Good\\nactions give strength to ourselves, and inspire\\ngood actions in others. They prove treas-\\nures guarded for the doer s need. Let us\\ntherefore strengthen our mind, and brace up\\nour soul, and prepare our heart for the\\nfuture. The race is for life.\\nTHE CASTLE OF INDOLENCE.\\nThe doors, that knew no shrill alarming, bell,\\nNe cursed knocker plied by villain s hand.\\nSelf-opened into halls, where, who can tell\\nWhat elegance and grandeur wide expand.\\nThe pride of Turkey and of Persia land\\nSoft quilts on quilts, on carpets carpets spread,\\nAnd couches stretched around in seemly band.\\nAnd endless pillows rise to prop the head\\nSo that each spacious room was one full-swelling bed.\\nAnd everywhere huge covered tables stood,\\nWith wines high flavored and rich viands crowned\\nWhatever sprightly juice or tasteful food\\nOn the green bosom of this Earth are found,\\nAnd all old Ocean genders in his round\\nSome hand unseen those silently displayed,\\nEven undemanded by a sign or sound\\nYou need but wish, and, instantly obeyed,\\nFair ranged the dishes rose, and thick the glasses\\nplayed.\\nEach sound, too, here, to languishment inclined,\\nI,ulled the weak bosom, and induced ease\\nAerial music in the warbling wind.\\nAt distance rising oft, by small degrees.\\nNearer and nearer came, till o er the trees\\nIt hung, and breathed such soul-dissolving airs\\nAs did, alas with soft perdition please\\nEntangled deep in its enchanting snares,\\nThe listening heart forgot all duties and all cares.\\nA certain music, never known before,\\nHere lulled the pensive melancholy mind\\nFull easily obtained. Behoves no more,\\nBut sidelong, to the gently waving wind.\\nTo lay the well-tuned instrument reclined,\\nFrom which, with airy-flying fingers light.\\nBeyond each mortal touch the most refined,\\nThe god of winds drew sounds of deep delight,\\nWhence, with just cause, the harp of ^olus its hight.\\nAnd hither Morpheus sent his kindest dreams.\\nRaising a world of gayer tinct and grace,\\nO er which were shadowy cast Elysian gleams,\\nThat played, in waving lights, from place to place,\\nAnd shed a roseate smile on Nature s face.\\nNot Titian s pencil e er could so array.\\nWith fleecy clouds, the pure ethereal space\\nNor could it e er such melting forms display.\\nAs loose on flowery beds all languishingly lay.\\nHere languid Beauty kept her pale-faced court\\nBevies of dainty dames, of high degree.\\nFrom every quarter hither made resort\\nWhere, from gross mortal care and business free.\\nThey lay, poured out in ease and luxury\\nOr should they a vain show of work assume,\\nAlas and well-a-day what can it be\\nTo knot, to twist, to range the vernal bloom\\nBut far is cast the distaff, spinning-wheel, and loom.\\nTheir only labor was to kill the time\\nAnd labor dire it is, and weary woe\\nThey sit, they loll, turn o er some idle rhyme,\\nThen, rising sudden, to the glass they go,\\nOr saunter forth, with tottering step and slow\\nThis soon too rude an exercise they find\\nStraight on the couch their limbs again they throw.\\nWhere hours on hours they sighing lie reclined.\\nAnd court the vapory god soft-breathing in the wind.\\nNow must I mark the villany we found\\nBut, ah too late, as shall full soon be shown.\\nA place here was, deep, dreary, undergronnd.\\nWhere still our inmates, when unpleasing grown,\\nDiseased, and loathsome, privily were thrown.\\nFar from the light of heaven, they languished there,\\nUnpitied, uttering many a bitter groan\\nFor of these wretches taken was no care\\nFierce fiends, and hags of hell, their only nurses\\nwere.", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0190.jp2"}, "191": {"fulltext": "BE RIGHT, THEN GO AHEAD.\\n155\\nAlas the change from scenes of joy and rest,\\nTo this dark den, where Sickness tossed alway.\\nHere Lethargy, with deadly sleep opprest.\\nStretched on his back, a mighty lubbard, lay,\\nHeaving his sides, and snoring night and day\\nTo stir him from his trance it was not eath,\\nAnd his half-opened eyes he shut straightway\\nHe led, I wot, the softest way to death.\\nAnd taught withouten pain and strife to yield the\\nbreath.\\nOf limbs enormous, but withal unsound,\\nSoft-swoln and pale, here lay the Hydropsy\\nUnweildy man with belly monstrous round,\\nForever fed with watery supply\\nFor still he drank, and yet he still was dry.\\nAnd moping here did Hypochondria sit.\\nMother of Spleen, in robes of various dye.\\nWho vexed was full oft with an ugly fit\\nAnd some her frantic deemed, and some her deemed\\na wit.\\nA lady proud she was of ancient blood,\\nYet oft her fear her pride made crouchen low\\nShe felt, or fancied, in her fluttering mood,\\nAll the diseases which the spitals know,\\nAnd sought all physic which the shops bestow,\\nAnd still new leaches and new drugs would try.\\nHer humor ever wavering to and fro\\nFor sometimes she would laugh, and sometimes cry.\\nThen sudden waxed wroth, and all she knew not\\nwhy.\\nFast by her side a listless maiden pined.\\nWith aching head, and squeamish heart-burnings\\nPale, bloated, cold, she seemed to hate mankind,\\nYet loved in secret all forbidden things.\\nAnd here the Tertian shakes his chilling wings\\nThe sleepless Gout here counts the crowing cocks\\nA wolf now gnaws him, now a serpent stings\\nWhilst Apoplexy crammed Intemperance knocks\\nDown to the ground at once, as butcher felleth ox.\\nJames Thomson.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0191.jp2"}, "192": {"fulltext": "156", "height": "3480", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0192.jp2"}, "193": {"fulltext": "BOOK II.\\nTHE CARDINAL YIRTUES,\\nCHAPTER IX.\\nTHE GREATEST OF THESE 15 CHARITY.\\nOVE is chief of all the virtues that\\nbless the world and make it\\nhappier. True charity gives to\\nthe poor it is also slow to con-\\ndemn another, and puts a favor-\\nable construction on human\\nfaults and errors, but the root\\nof these actions is love in the heart. The\\nspirit of kindness, of philanthropy, of good-\\nwill, is what we wish to urge upon all who\\nread these pages.\\nAre we growing wiser Do we begin to\\nsee that if we would make men better and\\nhappier we must resort to that grandest of\\nall forces gentleness Such a method of\\ntreating human beings has never in any case\\nproduced resistance or rebellion has never\\nmade them worse, but in all cases made them\\nbetter. Love is a constraining power it\\nelevates and civilizes all who come under its\\ninfluence. It indicates faith in man, and\\nwithout faith in man s better nature no\\nmethods of treatment will avail in improving\\nhim.\\nKindness draws out the better part of\\nevery nature disarming resistance, dissipa-\\nting angry passions, and melting the hardest\\nheart. It overcomes evil, and strengthens\\ngood. Extend the principle to nations, and\\nit still applies. It has already banished feuds\\nbetween clans, between provinces let it have\\nfree play, and war between nations will also\\ncease. Though the idea may seem absurd\\nnow, future generations will come to regard\\nwar as a crime too horrible to be perpetrated.\\nLove to Our Fellow-Men.\\nAbou Ben Adhem, may his tribe increase,\\nAwoke one night from a deep dream of peace,\\nAnd saw within the moonlight in his room,\\nMaking it rich, and like a lily in bloom,\\nAn angel, writing in a book of gold.\\nExceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold,\\nAnd to the presence in his room he said\\nWhat writest thou The vision raised its head,\\nAnd with a look, made all of sweet accord,\\nAnswered, The names of those that love the Lord.\\nAnd is mine one? said Abou. Nay, not so,\\nReplied the angel. Abou spoke more low,\\nBut cheerly still, and said, I pray thee, then,\\nWrite me as one that loves his fellow-men.\\nThe Angel wrote and vanished. The next night\\nHe came again with a great waking light,\\nAnd showed the names whom love of God had blest,\\nAnd, lo Ben Adhem s name led all the rest.\\nLeigh Hunt.\\nLove, says Emerson, would put a new\\nface on this weary old world, in which we\\ndwell as pagans and enemies too long; and\\nit would warm the heart to see how fast the\\nvain diplomacy of statesmen, the impotence\\nof armies and navies, and lines of defence,\\n157", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0193.jp2"}, "194": {"fulltext": "158\\nTHE GREATEST OF THESE IS CHARIIY.\\nwould be superseded by this unarmed child.\\nLove will creep where it cannot go; will\\naccomplish that, by imperceptible methods\\nbeing its own fulcrum, lever and power\\nwhich force could never achieve.\\nHave you not seen in the woods, in a late\\nautumn morning, a poor fungus or mush-\\nroom, a plant without any solidity, nay, that\\nseemed nothing but a soft mush or jelly, by\\nits constant, bold and inconceivably gentle\\npushing, manage to break its way up through\\nthe frosty ground, and actually to hft a hard\\ncrust on its head? This is the symbol of the\\npower of kindness. The virtue of this prin-\\nciple in human society, in application to great\\ninterests, is obsolete and forgotten. Once\\nor twice in history it has been tried, in illus-\\ntrious instances, with signal success. This\\ngreat, overgrown, dead Christendom of ours\\nstill keeps alive, at least, the name of a lover\\nof mankind. But one day all men will be\\nlovers, and every calamity will be dissolved\\nin the universal sunshine.\\nEach for Himself.\\nThere are many families, the members of\\nwhich are, without doubt, dear to each other.\\nIf sickness or sudden trouble falls on one,\\nall are afflicted, and make haste to sympathize,\\nhelp, and comfort. But in their daily life and\\nordinary intercourse there is not only no\\nexpression of affection, none of the pleasant\\nand fond behavior that has, perhaps, little\\ndignity, but which more than makes up for\\nthat in its sweetness but there is an absolute\\nhardness of language and actions which is\\nshocking to every sensitive and tender feeling.\\nBetween father and mother, and brother\\nand sister, pass rough and hasty words yes,\\nand angry words, far more frequently than\\nwords of endearment. To see and hear them,\\none would think that they hated, instead of\\nloved each other. It does not seem to have\\nentered into their heads that it is their duty,\\nas it should be their best pleasure, to do and\\nsay all that they possibly can for each other s\\ngood and happiness. Each one for himself,\\nand bad luck take the hindermost.\\nThe father orders and growls, the mother\\nfrets, complains, and scolds, the children snap,\\nsnarl, and whine, and so goes the day. Alas\\nfor it, if this is a type of heaven! as the\\nfamily is said to be at least, it is said to\\nbe the nearest thing to heaven of anything on\\nearth. But the spirit of selfishness, of vio-\\nlence, renders it more like the other place\\nyes, and this too often, even when all the\\nmembers of the household are members of\\nthe Church. Where you see when you\\nknow it one family where love and gentle-\\nness reign, you see ten where they only make\\nvisits, and this among Christian families as\\nwell as others.\\nA Family Bear-Garden.\\nNow, it is a sad and melancholy thing to\\nsit solitary in life, but give me a cave in\\nthe bowels of earth, give me a lodge in any\\nwaste, howling wilderness, where foot nor\\nface of human being ever came, rather than\\nan abode with parents, friends, or kindred, in\\nwhich I must hear or utter language which\\ncauses pain, or where I must see conduct\\nwhich is not born of love.\\nNo wealth, no advantage of any kind,\\nwould induce me to live with people whose\\nintercourse was of such a nature. The\\ndearer they were to me, the less would I\\nremain among them, if they did not do all\\nthey could to make each other happy. With\\nmere strangers one might endure, even under\\nsuch circumstances, to remain for a time for\\nwhat they say or do has but limited effect\\nupon one s feelings but how members of the\\nsame family, children of the same parents,\\ncan remain together, year after year, when", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0194.jp2"}, "195": {"fulltext": "THE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\n159\\nevery day they hear quarreling, if they do\\nnot join in it, and when hard words fly on all\\nsides of them, thick as hail, and the very\\nvisitors in their house are rendered uncom-\\nfortable by them, is indeed a mystery.\\nCount life by virtues these will last\\nWhen life s lame, foiled, race is o er\\nAnd these, when earthly joys are past.\\nShall cheer us on a brighter shore.\\nThere is an old song that is so beautiful\\nand pathetic, and teaches such a wholesome\\nlesson, that it is worthy of being reproduced\\nhere as a gentle adt^.onition to all who read\\nthese pages.\\nKindness at Home.\\nBe kind to thy father, for when thou wast young.\\nWho loved thee so fondly as he?\\nHe caught the first accents that fell from thy tongue.\\nAnd joined in thy innocent glee\\nBe kind to thy father, for now he is old,\\nHis locks intermingled with gray\\nHis footsteps are feeble once fearless and bold\\nThy father is passing away.\\nBe kind to thy mother, for lo on her brow\\nMay traces of sorrow be seen\\nOh well mayst thou cherish and comfort her now.\\nFor loving and kind she hath been\\nRemember thy mother for thee will she pray,\\nAs long as God giveth her breath\\nWith accents of kindness, then cheer her lone way,\\nE en to the dark valley of death.\\nBe kind to thy brother his heart will have dearth\\nIf the smiles of thy joy be withdrawn\\nThe flowers of feeling will fade at the birth.\\nIf love and affection be gone.\\nBe kind to thy brother, wherever you are\\nThe love of a brother shall be\\nAn ornament purer and richer, by far,\\nThan pearls from the depths of the sea.\\nBe kind to thy sister not many may know\\nThe depth of true sisterly love\\nThe wealth of the ocean lies fathoms below\\nThe surface that sparkles above\\nThy kindness shall bring to thee many sweet hours.\\nAnd blessings thy pathway shall crown\\nAffection shall weave thee a garland of flowers,\\nMore precious than wealth or renown.\\nSays a well-known writer: Affection does\\nnot beget weakness, nor is it effeminate for a\\nbrother to be tenderly attached to his sisters.\\nThat boy will make the noblest, the bravest\\nman. On the battle-field, in many terrible\\nbattles during our late horrible war, I always\\nnoticed that those boys who had been reared\\nunder the tenderest home culture always\\nmade the best soldiers. They were always\\nbrave, always endured the severe hardships\\nof camp, the march, or on the bloody field\\nmost silently, and were most dutiful at every\\ncall. More, much more, they resisted the\\nfrightful temptations that so often surrounded\\nthem, and seldom returned to their loved\\nones stained with the sins incident to war.\\nAnother point, they were always kind and\\npolite to those whom they met in the enemy s\\ncountry. Under their protection, woman was\\nalways safe. How often I have heard one\\nregiment compared with another, when the\\ncause of the difference was not comprehended\\nby those who drew the comparison I knew\\nthe cause it was the home education.\\nManly AfFection.\\nWe see the same every day in the busy-\\nlife of the city. Call together one hundred\\nyoung men in our city, and spend an evening\\nwith them, and we will tell you their home\\neducation. Watch them as they approach\\nyoung ladies, and converse with them, and\\nwe will show you who have been trained\\nunder the influence of home affection and\\npoliteness, and those who have not.\\nThat young man who was accustomed\\nto kiss his sweet, innocent, loving sister night\\nand morning as they met, shows its influence\\nupon him, and he will never forget it and\\nwhen he shall take some one to his heart as\\nhis wife, she shall reap the golden fruit\\nthereof. The young man who was in the\\nhabit of giving his arm to his sister as they", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0195.jp2"}, "196": {"fulltext": "S^ V\\n^m-.\\nm^^m^M\\nI\\nWm\\nWM\\nr ^^y\\nE=?\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0^y -:^fc\\nPEACE ON EARTH, GOOD-WILL TO MEN.\\n160", "height": "3481", "width": "2595", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0196.jp2"}, "197": {"fulltext": "THE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nwalked to and from church, will never leave\\nhis wife to find her way as best she can.\\nThe young man who has been taught to see\\nthat his sister had a seat before he sought\\nhis, will never mortify a neglected wife in the\\npresence of strangers. And that young man\\nwho always handed his sister to her chair at\\nthe table, will never have cause to blush\\nas he sees some gentleman extend to his\\nwife the courtesy she knows is due from\\nliim.\\nMothers and daughters, wives and sisters,\\nremember that, and remember that you have\\nthe making of the future of this great country,\\nand rise at once to your high and holy duty.\\nRemember that you must make that future,\\nwhether you will or not. We are all what\\nyou make us. Ah! throw away your weak-\\nening follies of fashion, and soul-famine, and\\nrise to the level where God intended you\\nshould be, and make every one of your\\nhomes, from this day, schools of true polite-\\nness and tender affection.\\nTake those little curly-headed boys, and\\nteach them all you would have men to be,\\nand my word for it, they will be just such\\nmen, and will go forth to bless the world,\\nand crown you with a glory such as queens\\nand empresses never dreamed of Wield\\nyour power now, and you shall reap the\\nfruit in your ripe age.\\nHome Teaching.\\nDelightful task to rear the tender thought,\\nTo teach the 3 oung idea how to shoot,\\nTo pour the fresh instruction o er the mind,\\nTo breathe the enliv ning spirit, and to fix\\nThe generous purpose in the glowing breast.\\nJames Thomson.\\nThe Happiest Home.\\nWhere is the happiest home on earth\\nTis not mid scenes of noisy mirth\\nBut where God s favor, sought aright,\\nFills every breast with joy and light.\\n11\\nThe richest home It is not found\\nW jere wealth and splendor most abound\\nBut wheresoe er, in hall or cot,\\nMen live contented with their lot.\\nThe fairest home It is not placed\\nIn scenes with outward beauty graced\\nBut where kind words and smiles impart\\nA constant sunshine to the heart.\\nOn such a home of peace and love\\nGod showers his blessing from above\\nAnd angels, watching o er it, cry,\\nIvO this is like our home on high\\nA good story of two neighbors living in\\nNew Jersey is told by one of them, and shows\\nhow a soft answer will turn away wrath and\\nhow kindness will soften a surly spirit.\\nThose Troublesome Hens.\\nI once owned, he says, a large flock\\nof hens. I generally kept them shut up.\\nBut one spring, I concluded to let them run\\nin my yard, after I had clipped their wings\\nso that they could not fly. One day when I\\ncame home to dinner, I learned that one of\\nmy neighbors had been there full of wrath,\\nto let me know that my hens had been in his\\ngarden, and that he had killed several of\\nthem, and thrown them over into my yard.\\nI was greatly enraged because he had killed\\nmy beautiful hens that I valued so much. I\\ndetermined at once to be revenged, to sue\\nhim, or in some way to get redress.\\nI sat down and ate my dinner as calmly\\nas I could. By the time I had finished my\\nmeal, I became more cool, and thought that\\nperhaps it was not best to fight with my\\nneighbor about hens, and thereby make him\\nmy bitter enemy. I concluded to try another\\nway, being sure that it would be better.\\nAfter dinner, I went to my neighbor s. He\\nwas in his garden. I went out, and found\\nhim in pursuit of one of my hens with a club,\\ntrying to kill it. I accosted him.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0197.jp2"}, "198": {"fulltext": "162\\nTHE GREATEST OF THESE IS CHARITY.\\nHe turned upon me, his face inflamed\\nwith wrath, and broke out in a great fury,\\nYou have abused me. I will kill all of your\\nhens, if I can get them. I never was so\\nabused. My garden is ruined.\\nI am sorry for it, said I I did not wish\\nto injure you and now see that I have made\\na great mistake in letting out my hens. I\\nask your forgiveness, and am wiUing to pay\\nyou six times the damage.\\nThe man seemed confounded. He did\\nnot know what to make of it. He looked\\nup to the sky, then down at the earth, then\\nat his neighbor, then at his club, and then at\\nthe poor hen he had been pursuing, and said\\nnothing.\\nTell me now, said I, what is the damage,\\nand I will pay you sixfold; and my hens shall\\ntrouble you no more. I will leave it entirely\\nto you to say what I shall do. I cannot\\nafford to lose the love and goodwill of my\\nneighbors, and quarrel with them, for hens\\nor anything else.\\nThe Quarrel Settled.\\nI am a great fool said my neighbor.\\nThe damage is not worth talking about\\nand I have more need to compensate you\\nthan you me, and to ask your forgiveness\\nthan you mine.\\nThis incident shows that there is a better\\nway of settling quarrels than by resentment\\nand retaliation. The just and generous spirit\\nsoftens hatred and hard-heartedness. It is\\na remarkable fact that multitudes of persons\\ndo business all their lives and never have\\ndisagreements with others, never incur the\\ncensure of their neighbors and never have\\nto go into court to settle disputes, while\\nthere are many who never seem to be able\\nto keep out of court and are always in trou-\\nble with someone who, they imagine, has\\ninjured them. There will be a good crop of\\nlawyers so long as such persons act out their\\nnative disposition. They appear to enjoy a\\nlawsuit; they are porcupines with the quills\\nalways erect and bristling.\\nB_n Franklin knew how to conquer an\\nenemy. He never attempted to do it with\\na cudgel. In 1736 he was chosen clerk of\\nthe General Assembly of Pennsylvania his\\nfirst promotion, as he calls it in his narrative.\\nThe choice was annual, and the year follow-\\ning a new member made a long speech\\nagainst his re-election. We copy what he\\nrelates on this occasion, because it is every\\nway characteristic:\\nKindness Conquered.\\nAs the place was highly desirable for me\\non many accounts, I did not like the oppo-\\nsition of this new member, who was a gen-\\ntleman of fortune and education, with talents\\nthat were likely to give him in time great\\ninfluence in the House, which indeed after-\\nwards happened. I did not, however, aim\\nat gaining his favor by paying any servile\\nrespect to him, but after sometime took this\\nother method. Having heard that he had in\\nhis library a certain very scarce and curious\\nbook, I wrote a note to him expressing my\\ndesire of perusing that book, and requesting\\nthat he would do me the favor of lending it\\nto me for a few days.\\nHe sent it immediately, and I returned it\\nin about a week with another note, strongly\\nexpressing my sense of the favor. When\\nwe next met in the House, he spoke to me\\nwhich he had never done before and with\\ngreat civility; and he ever after manifested a\\nreadiness to serve me on all occasions, so\\nthat we became great friends, and our friend-\\nship continued to his death. This is another\\ninstance of the truth of an old maxim I had\\nlearned, which says, He that has once done\\nyou a kindness will be more ready to do you", "height": "3480", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0198.jp2"}, "199": {"fulltext": "THE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\n163\\nanother than he whom you yourself have\\nobliged. And it shows how much more\\nprofitable it is prudently to remove, than to\\nresent, return and continue inimical proceed-\\nings.\\nSpeaking to the young on this point, Hor-\\nace Mann says You are made to be kind,\\nboys, generous, magnanimous. If there is a\\nboy in school who has a club foot, don t let\\nhim know you ever saw it. If there is a\\npoor boy with ragged clothes, don t talk\\nabout rags in his hearing. If there is a lame\\nboy, assign him some part of the game\\nwhich does not require running. If there is\\na hungry one, give him part of your dinner.\\nIf there is a dull one, help him to get his\\nlesson. If there is a bright one, be not\\nenvious of him for if one boy is proud of\\nhis talents, and another is envious of them,\\nthere are two great wrongs, and no more\\ntalent than before. If a larger and stronger\\nboy has injured you, and is sorry for it, for-\\ngive him. All the school will show by their\\ncountenances how much better it is than to\\nhave a great fist.\\nAn Act of Kindness.\\nThe blessings which the weak aud poor can scatter\\nHave their own season. Tis a little thing\\nTo give a cup of water yet its draught\\nOf cool refreshment, drained by fevered lips,\\nMay give a thrill of pleasure to the frame\\nMore exquisite than when nectarean juice\\nRenews the life of joy in happiest hours.\\nIt is a little thing to speak a phrase\\nOf common comfort which by daily use\\nHas almost lost its sense yet on the ear\\nOf him who thought to die unmourned twill fall\\nLike choicest music, fill the glazing eye\\nWith gentle tears, relax the knotted hand\\nTo know the bonds of fellowship again,\\nAnd shed on the departing soul a sense\\nMore precious than the benison of friends\\nAbout the honored death-bed of the rich,\\nTo him who else were lonely, that another\\nOf the great family is near and feels.\\nThomas Noon Tai,fourd.\\nMen are very slow to give up their faith\\nin physical force, as necessary for the guid-\\nance, correction and discipline of others.\\nForce is the short way of settling matters,\\nwithout any weighing of arguments. It is\\nthe summary logic of the barbarians, among\\nwhom the best man is he who strikes the\\nheaviest blow or takes the surest aim.\\nCoaxing Rather than Driving.\\nEven civilized nations have been very slow\\nto abandon their faith in force. Until very\\nrecent times, men of honor, who chanced to\\nfall out, settled their quarrels by the duel;\\nand governments, almost without exception,\\nhave resorted to arms to settle their quarrels\\nas to territory or international arrangements.\\nIndeed, we have been so trained and edu-\\ncated into a belief in the efficacy of force\\nwar has become so identified in history with,\\nhonor, glory and all sorts of high-sounding:\\nnames that we can scarcely imagine it pos-\\nsible that the framework of society could be\\nheld together, were the practice of force dis-\\ncarded, and that of love, benevolence and\\njustice substituted in its place.\\nAnd yet doubts are widely entertained as\\nto the efficacy of the policy of force. It is\\nsuspected that force becjets more resistance\\nthan it is worth, and that if men are put\\ndown by violent methods, a spirit of rebellion\\nis created, which breaks out from time to\\ntime in violent deeds, in hatred, in vice and\\nin crime. Such, indeed, has been the issue\\nof the policy of force in all countries and in\\nall times. The history of the world is, to a\\ngreat extent, the history of the failure of\\nphysical force.\\nOn two great occasions America and\\nGreat Britain have taught the rest of the\\nworld that it is possible to settle disputes by\\narbitration. When claims were made by\\nour government against Great Britain for", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0199.jp2"}, "200": {"fulltext": "164\\nTHE GREATEST OF THESE IS CHARITY.\\ndepredations committed on the high seas\\nduring our civil war, instead of settling the\\ndifficulty by an appeal to the sword, a court\\nof arbitration assembled at Geneva, Switzer-\\nland, discussed the whole matter in a friendly\\nspirit, and came to a conclusion that was\\nbinding upon both nations. And later a\\nsimilar course was pursued in the dispute\\nconcerning the seal fisheries in Bering Sea.\\nLet this thing go on and some so-called\\nChristian nations may become civilized and\\nnot rush into war on every pretext like a\\ngang of barbarians. Peace has finer victo-\\nries than war.\\nInhuman Cruelty.\\nThe principle of force has, in past times,\\nbeen dismally employed in the treatment of\\nlunatics, lepers, galley slaves and criminals.\\nLunatics were chained and put in cages like\\nwild beasts. The lepers were banished from\\nthe towns, and made to live in some remote\\nquarter, away from human beings though\\nthemselves human. The galley slaves were\\nmade to tug at the oar until they expired in\\nmisery. Criminals were crowded together\\nwithout regard to age or sex, until the\\nprisons of Europe became the very sink of\\niniquity. Some four hundred years ago\\ncriminals were given over to be vivisected\\nalive by the surgeons of Florence and Pisa.\\nTheir place has now been taken by dumb\\nbrutes.\\nWe hear of the dungeons and chains in\\nthe castles of chivalry; but what tales of\\nmisery and of cruelty are unfolded before\\nthe legal tribunals of the moderns Search\\nthe annals of the poor in our great cities,\\nand how often will you have to say with\\nJeremy Taylor, This is an uncharitableness\\nnext to the cruelties of savages, and an\\ninfinite distance from the mercies of Jesus\\nThe benevolent spirit of John Howard was\\nfirst directed to the reform of prisons by a\\npersonal adventure of a seemingly accidental\\nnature. He was on a voyage to Portugal\\nat a time when Lisbon was an object of\\npainful interest still smoking in ruins from\\nthe effects of the memorable earthquake.\\nHe had not proceeded far on his voyage\\nwhen the packet in which he had embarked\\nwas captured by a French privateer. He\\nwas treated with great cruelty. He was\\nallowed no food or water for forty-eight\\nhours; and after landing at Brest he was\\nimprisoned in the castle with the rest of the\\ncaptives. They were cast into a filthy dun-\\ngeon, and were kept for a considerable time\\nlonger without food.\\nAt length a joint of mutton was flung into\\nthe den, which the unhappy men were forced\\nto tear in pieces, and gnaw like wild beasts.\\nThe prisoners experienced the same cruel\\ntreatment for a week, and were compelled\\nto lie on the floor of the horrible dungeon,\\nwith nothing but straw to shelter them from\\nthe noxious and pestilential damps of the\\nplace.\\nEvery Prison Was a Hell.\\nHoward was at last set at liberty, and\\nreturned to England; but he gave himself\\nno rest until he had succeeded in liberating\\nmany of his fellow-prisoners. He then\\nopened a correspondence with English\\nprisoners in other jails and fortresses ok\\nthe Continent; and found that sufferings\\nas bad, or even greater than his own, were\\nthe common lot of the captives.\\nShortly after his attention was called to\\nthe state of English prisons, in the course\\nof his duties as High Sheriff of the County\\nof Bedford. This office is usually an hono-\\nrary one, leading merely to a little pomp and\\nvain show. But with Howard it was differ-\\nent. To be appointed to an office was with", "height": "3476", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0200.jp2"}, "201": {"fulltext": "THE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nhim to incur the obligation to fulfil its duties.\\nHe sat in court and listened attentively to\\nthe proceedings. When the trials were over\\nhe visited the prison in which the criminals\\nwere confined. There he became acquainted\\nwith the shamefijl and brutal treatment of\\nmalefactors. The sight that met his eyes in\\nprison revealed to him the nature of his\\nfuture life-mission.\\nThe prisons of England, as well as of other\\ncountries, were then in a frightful state. The\\nprisoners were neither separated nor classified.\\nThe comparatively innocent and the abom-\\ninably guilty were herded together so that\\ncommon jails became the hotbeds of crime.\\nThe hungry man who stole a loaf of bread\\nfound himself in contact with the burglar or\\nthe murderer. The debtor and the forger\\nthe petty thief and the cut-throat the dis-\\nhonest girl and the prostitute were all\\nmixed together. Swearing, cursing, and\\nblaspheming pervaded the jail. Religious\\nworship was unknown. The place was made\\nover to Beelzebub. The devil was king.\\nDisease and Death.\\nHoward thus simply tells his impressions\\nas to the treatment of prisoners: Some\\nwho by the verdict of juries were declared\\nnot guilty some on whom the grand jury\\ndid not find such an appearance of guilt as\\nsubjected them to a trial and some whose\\nprosecutors did not appear against them\\nafter having been confined for months, were\\ndragged back to jail, and locked up again\\nuntil they should pay sundry fees to the\\njailer, the clerk of assize, and such like.\\nHe also remarked that the hard-hearted\\ncreditors, who sometimes threatened their\\ndebtors that they should rot in jail, had\\nindeed a very truthful significance for that\\nin jail men really did rot literally sinking\\nand festering from filth and malaria. Howard\\nestimated that, numerous as were the lives\\nsacrificed on the gallows, quite as many fell\\nvictims to cold and damp, disease and hunger.\\nThe jailers salaries were not paid by the\\npublic, but by the discharged innocents.\\nHoward pleaded with the justices of the\\npeace that a salary should be paid to the\\njailer. He was asked for a precedent. He\\nsaid he would find one. He mounted his\\nhorse, and rode throughout the country for\\nthe precedent. He visited county jails far\\nand near. He did not find a precedent for\\nthe payment of a salary to the jailer, but he\\nfound an amount of wretchedness and misery\\nprevailing among the prisoners, which de-\\ntermined him to devote himself to the\\nreformation of the jails of England and of\\nthe world.\\nChained on their Backs.\\nAt Gloucester he found the castle in the\\nmost horrible condition. The castle had\\nbecome the jail. It had a common court for\\nall the prisoners, male and female. The\\ndebtors ward had no windows. The night\\nroom for men felons was close and dark. A\\nfever had prevailed in the jail, which carried\\noff many of the prisoners. The keeper had\\nno salary. The debtors had no allowance\\nof food.\\nIn the city of Ely the accommodation was\\nno better. To prevent the prisoners escape\\nthey were chained on their backs to the floor.\\nSeveral bars of iron were placed over them,\\nand an iron collar covered with spikes was\\nfastened round their necks. At Norwich the\\ncells were built under ground, and the pris-\\noners were given an allowance of straw,\\nwhich cost a guinea a year. The jailer not\\nonly had no salary, but he paid two hundred\\ndollars a year to the under-sheriff for his\\nsituation He made his income by extortion,\\nHoward went on from place to place.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0201.jp2"}, "202": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0202.jp2"}, "203": {"fulltext": "THE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\n167\\ninspired by his noble mission. The idea of\\nameliorating the condition of prisoners en-\\ngrossed his whole thoughts, and possessed\\nhim like a passion. No toil, nor danger, nor\\nbodily suffering could turn him from the\\ngreat object of his life. He went from one\\nend of England to the other, in order to drag\\nforth to the light the disgusting mysteries of\\nthe British prison-houses. In many cases he\\ngave freedom to such as were confined for\\nsome petty debt, and to many others who\\nwere utterly guiltless of crime.\\nLight in the Dungeons.\\nUpon the conclusion of his survey the\\nHouse of Commons resolved itself into a\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0committee, in order to ascertain the actual\\nstate of the case. He appeared before it,\\nladen with his notes. In the course of the\\ninquiry a member, surprised at the extent\\nand minuteness of his information, inquired\\nat whose expense he had travelled. Howard\\nwas almost choked before he could reply.\\nThe thanks of the Legislature were given\\nhim at the close of his evidence. They fol-\\nlowed in the track which he had pointed out.\\nBills were passed abohshing all fees, provid-\\ning salaries for the jailers, and ordering all\\nprisoners to be discharged immediately upon\\nacquittal. It was also directed that all jails\\nshould be cleansed, whitewashed, and venti-\\nlated; that infirmaries should be erected for\\nthe healing and maintenance of prisoners\\nand that proper jails should be built. How-\\nard was confined to his bed while the bills\\npassed but so soon as he had recovered\\nfrom the illness and fatigue to which his self-\\nimposed labors had subjected him, he rose\\nagain, and revisited the jails, for the purpose\\nof ascertaining that the Acts were duly\\ncarried out.\\nHaving exhausted England, Howard pro-\\nceeded into Scotland and Ireland, and in-\\nspected the jails in those countries. He\\nfound them equally horrible, and published\\nthe results of his inquiries with equal suc-\\ncess. Then he proceeded to the Continent,\\nto inquire into the prison accommodation\\nthere. At Paris the gates of the Bastille\\nwere closed against him but as respects the\\nother French prisons, though they were bad\\nenough, they were far superior to those of\\nEngland. When it was ascertained that\\nHoward was making inquiries about the\\nBastille, an order was issued for his impris-\\nonment, but he escaped in time. He re-\\nvenged himself by publishing an account\\nof the State prison, translated from a work\\nrecently published, which he obtained after\\ngreat difficulty and trouble.\\nHis Errand of Love.\\nHoward travelled onward to Belgium,\\nHolland and Germany. He made notes\\neverywhere, and obtained a large amount\\nof information the result of enormous\\nlabor. After returning to England, to see\\nthat the work of prison reform had taken\\nroot, he proceeded to Switzerland, on the\\nsame errand of love. He there found the\\nscience of prison discipline revealed. The\\nprisoners were made to work, not only for\\ntheir own benefit, but to diminish the taxes\\nlevied for the maintenance of prisons.\\nAfter three years of indefatigable work,\\nduring which he travelled more than thir-\\nteen thousand miles, Howard published his\\ngreat work on The State of Prisons. It\\nwas received with great sensation. He was\\nagain examined by the House of Commons\\nas to the further measures required for the\\nreformation of prisoners. He recommended\\nhouses of correction. He had observed one\\nat Amsterdam, which he thought might be\\ntaken as a model.\\nHe again proceeded thither to ascertain", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0203.jp2"}, "204": {"fulltext": "168\\nTHE GREATEST OF THESE IS CHARITY.\\nits method of working. From Holland he\\nwent to Prussia; crossed Silesia, through the\\nopposing ranks of the armies of Austria and\\nPrussia. He spent some time at Vienna, and\\nproceeded to Italy. At Rome he applied for\\nadmission to the dungeons of the Inquisition.\\nBut, as at the Bastille in France, the gates of\\nthe Inquisition were closed against him. All\\nothers were opened. He returned home\\nthrough France, having travelled four thou-\\nsand six hundred miles during this tour.\\nA Man and W^oman Whipped.\\nWherever he went he was received with\\njoy. The blessings of the imprisoned fol-\\nlowed him. He distributed charity with an\\nopen hand. But he did more. He opened\\nthe eyes of the thoughtful and the charitable\\nof all countries to the importance of prison\\nreform.\\nHe never resi.ed. He again visited the\\nprisons in Great Britain, travelling nearly\\nseven thousand miles. He found that his\\nprevious efforts had done some good. The\\nflagrant abuses which he had before observed\\nhad been removed; and the jails were cleaner,\\nhealthic and more orderly. He made\\nanother foreign tour to amplify his know-\\nleoge. He had visited the jails of the\\nsouthern countries of Europe. He now\\nresolved to visit those of Russia. He\\nentered Petersburg alone and on foot. The\\npolice discovered him, and he was invited to\\nvisit the Empress Catharine at Court. He\\nrespectfully informed her Majesty that he\\nhad come to Russia to visit the dungeons\\nof the captives and the abodes of the\\nwretched, not the palaces and courts of\\nkings and queens.\\nArmed with power, he went to see the\\ninfliction of the knout. A man and woman\\nwere brought out. The man received sixty\\nstrokes, and the woman twenty-five. I\\nsaw the woman, says Howard, in a very\\nweak condition some days after, but could\\nnot find the man any more. Determined\\nto ascertain what had become of him, How-\\nard visited the executioner. Can you, he\\nsaid, inflict the knout so as to occasion\\ndeath in a very short time? Yes! In\\nhow short a time? In a day or two.\\nHave you ever so inflicted it? I have!\\nHave you lately? Yes! the last man\\nwho was punished by my hand with the\\nknout died of the punishment. In what\\nmanner do you thus render it mortal?\\nBy one or two strokes on the sides, which,\\ncarry off large pieces of flesh. Do you\\nreceive orders thus to inflict the punish-\\nment? I do!\\nThus the boast of Russia that capital\\npunishments had been abolished throughout\\nthe empire was effectually exposed.\\nThe Prisoners Friend.\\nHe wrote from Moscow that no less than\\nseventy thousand recruits for the army and\\nnavy have died in the Russian hospitals dur-\\ning a single year. Now, Howard was an\\naccurate man, incapable of saying anything\\nbut the truth and therefore, this horrible\\nfact cannot but heighten our detestation both\\n.ofwar and of despotism. From Russia he\\ntravelled home by way of Poland, Prussia,\\nHonover, and the Austrian Netherlands.\\nHe also travelled for the same purpose\\nthrough Spain and Portugal. He published\\nthe results of his travels in a second appendix\\nto his great work.\\nTwelve years had now passed since How-\\nard had given himself up to the absorbing\\npursuit of his life. He had travelled upward\\nof forty-two thousand miles in visiting the\\njails of the chief towns and cities of Europe;\\nand he had expended upward of one hun-\\ndred and fifty thousand dollars in relieving", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0204.jp2"}, "205": {"fulltext": "THE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\n16\\nthe prisoners, the sick and the friendless.\\nHe had not, however, finished his work. He\\ndetermined to visit the countries where the\\nplague prevailed, in order, if possible, to dis-\\ncover a remedy for this frightful disease.\\nHis object was to go, in the first place, to\\nMarseilles, through France.\\nHe set out for Paris. The French, re-\\nmembering his pamphlet on the Bastille,\\nprohibited him from appearing on the soil of\\nFrance. He disguised himself, and entered\\nParis. During the same night in which he\\narrived he was roused from his bed by the\\npolice. A lucky thought enabled him to\\ndispose of them for a few minutes, during\\nwhich he rose, dressed himself, escaped from\\nthe house, and was forthwith on his way to\\nMarseilles. He there obtained admission to\\nthe Lazaretto, and obtained the information\\nwhich he required.\\nHis Last Journey.\\nHe sailed for Smyrna, where the plague\\nwas raging. From thence the resolute\\nphilanthropist sailed to the Adriatic by an\\ninfected vessel, in order that he might be\\nsubjected to the strictest quarantine. He\\ntook the fever, and lay in quarantine for\\nforty days suffering fearfully, without help,\\nalone in his misery. At length he recovered,\\nand made his way home to England. He\\nvisited his country estate, provided for the\\npoor of the neighborhood, and parted from\\nhis humble friends as a father from his\\nchildren.\\nHe had one more journey to make. It\\nwas his last. His intention was to extend\\nhis inquiries on the subject of the plague.\\nHe proceeded through Holland, Germa:ny,\\nand Russia, intending to go to Turkey,\\nEgypt, and the States of Barbary. But he\\nwas only able to travel as far as Kherson, in\\nRussian Tartary There, as usual, he visited\\nthe prisoners, and caught the jail fever.\\nAlone, among strangers, he sickened and\\ndied in his sixty-fourth year. To one who\\nwas by his bedside, he marked a spot in a\\nchurchyard in Dauphiny, where he wished\\nto be buried. Lay me quietly in the earth,\\nplace a sun-dial over my grave, and let me\\nbe forgotten.\\nBut the noble Howard will not be forgotten\\nso long as the memory of man lasts. He\\nwas the benefactor of the most miserable of\\nmen. He thought nothing of himself, but\\nonly of those who without him would have\\nbeen friendless and unhelped. In his own\\ntime he achieved a remarkable degree of\\nsuccess. But his influence did not die with\\nhim, for it has continued to influence not only\\nthe legislation of England, but of all civilized\\nnations, down to the present time.\\nBurke thus described him He visited\\nall Europe to dive into the depths of dun-\\ngeons; to plunge into the infection of\\nhospitals to survey the mansions of sorrow\\nand pain; to take the gauge and dimensions\\nof misery, depression, and contempt; to\\nremember the forgotten; to attend the\\nneglected to visit the forsaken; to compare\\nand collect the distresses of all men in all\\ncountries. His plan is original, and it is as\\nfull of genius as it is of humanity. It is a\\nvoyage of discovery, a circumnavigation of\\ncharity; and already the benefit of his labor\\nis felt more or less in every country.\\nWorks of Philanthropy.\\nFrom realm to realm, with cross or crescent crowned.\\nWhere er mankind and misery are found,\\nO er burning sands, deep waves, or wilds of snow,\\nMild Howard journeying seeks the house of woe.\\nDown many a winding step to dungeons dank,\\nWhere anguish wails aloud and fetters clank.\\nTo caves bestrewed with many a mouldering bone.\\nAnd cells whose echoes only learn to groan,\\nWhere no kind bars a whispering friend disclose,\\nNo sunbeam enters, and no zephyr blows", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0205.jp2"}, "206": {"fulltext": "170\\nTHE GREATEST OF THESE IS CHARITY.\\nHe treads, inemulous of fame or wealth,\\nProfuse of toil and prodigal of health\\nLeads stern-eyed Justice to the dark domains,\\nIf not to sever, to relax the chains\\nGives to her babes the self-devoted wife,\\nTo her fond husband liberty and life-\\nOnward he moves disease and death retire,\\nAnd murmuring demons hate him and admire.\\nE. Darwin.\\nThe example of this great benefactor of\\nhis race is convincing proof of what may be\\naccomplished by one brave man, acting out\\nthe law of kindness and brotherly love.\\nEvery individual may show the same spirit\\nin the sphere he occupies, whether great or\\nsmall.\\nMrs. Fry in Newgate Prison.\\nFrom the time of Howard the treatment\\nof prisoners has been greatly improved. At\\nfirst it was only benevolent persons who\\naimed at their improvement, such as Sarah\\nMartin, Mrs. Fry and other kindred spirits.\\nSydney Smith mentions that on one occasion\\nhe requested permission to accompany Mrs.\\nFry to Newgate Prison, London. He was\\nso moved by the sight that he wept like a\\nchild. Referring to the subject afterward,\\nin a sermon, he said, There is a spectacle\\nwhich this town now exhibits that I will\\nventure to call the most solemn, the most\\nChristian, the most affecting which any\\nhuman being ever witnessed. To see that\\nholy woman in the midst of the wretched\\nprisoners; to see them all calling earnestly\\nupon God, soothed by her voice, animated\\nby her look, clinging to the hem of her\\ngarment, and worshipping her as the only\\nbeing who has ever loved them, or taught\\nthem, or noticed them, or spoken to them\\nof God This is the sight that breaks down\\nthe pageant of the world; which tells them\\nthat the short hour of life is passing away,\\nand that we must prepare by some good\\ndeeds to meet God that it is time to give,\\nto pray, to comfort; to go, like this blessed\\nwoman, and do the work of our heavenly\\nSaviour, Jesus, among the guilty, among\\nthe broken-hearted and the sick, and to\\nlabor in the deepest and the darkest wretch-\\nedness of life.\\nMrs. Fry succeeded, by her persevering\\nefforts, in effecting a complete reformation in\\nthe state of the prison, and in the conduct\\nof the female prisoners; insomuch that the\\ngrand jury, in their report, after a visit to\\nNewgate, state, that if the principles which\\ngovern her regulations were adopted toward\\nthe males as well as the females, it would be\\nthe means of converting a prison into a\\nschool of reform; and instead of sending\\ncriminals back into the world hardened in\\nvice and depravity, they would be repentant,\\nand probably become useful members of\\nsociety.\\nA Friend of Boys and Girls.\\nMrs. Tatnall also, a woman less known\\nthan Mrs. Fry, devoted herself to the\\nreformation and improvement of the pris-\\noners in Warwick jail, of which her husband\\nwas governor. Many a criminal was brought\\nback by her from the ways of vice to those\\nof virtue and industry. Boys and girls,\\nbeing younger in iniquity, were the especial\\nsubjects of her care. She was almost in-\\nvariably successful in her efforts to restore\\nthem to society.\\nBut individual help could do but little in\\nimproving or reclaiming the mass of pris-\\noners. It was only by the help of the Legis-\\nlature that so large a question could be\\ntreated. One of the chief objects of legisla-\\ntion is to prevent crime by removing the\\ninducements to commit it; and the main\\nobject of prison discipline is to reform the\\nmoral condition of the criminal, and to lead", "height": "3477", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0206.jp2"}, "207": {"fulltext": "THE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\n1?\\\\\\nhim back to the bosom of the society against\\nwhich he has sinned. This, as a matter of\\njustice, is due to the criminal, who is too\\noften made so by the circumstances in which\\nhe has been brought up, by his want of\\ntraining, and by the unequal laws which\\nsociety has enacted.\\nBefore, society took its revenge upon\\ncriminals, and treated them like wild beasts\\nnow, a milder treatment is adopted, with a\\nview to their reclamation. The governors\\nof the Sing Sing Penitentiary, in the State\\nof New York, led the way in the reforma-\\ntory treatment of criminals. Their attention\\nwas directed to the subject by the reports of\\nMr. Edmonds.\\nSympathy and Kindness.\\nHe said that he had no faith whatever in\\nthe system of violence which had so long\\nprevailed in the world the system of tor-\\nmenting criminals into what was called good\\norder, and of never appealing to anything\\nbetter than the base sentiment of fear. He\\nhad seen enough in his own experience to\\nconvince him that, degraded as they were,\\nthey had still hearts that could be touched\\nby kindness, consciences that might be\\naroused by appeals to reason, and aspirations\\nfor a better course of life, which needed only\\nthe cheering voice of sympathy and hope, to\\nbe strengthened into permanent reformation.\\nA new system of criminal treatment was,\\naccordingly, in conformity with Mr. Ed-\\nmonds s recommendations, commenced at\\nSing Sing prison, and was soon attended by\\nthe happiest effects. The rule now was, to\\npunish as sparingly as possible, and to en-\\ncourage where there was any desire for\\nimprovement. Many criminals, formerly\\nregarded as irreclaimable, were thus restored\\nto society as useful and profitable citizens,\\nand but a very small proportion of these\\nwere found to relapse into their former habits.\\nThe system was found especially successful\\nin the case of women. One of the matrons\\naddressed them in the chapel on the duty of\\nself-government, and the necessity of a\\nreformation of character if they wished to\\nescape from misery, either in this world or\\nthe next. The effect of this little experi-\\nment, says the matron, in an after statement,\\nhas been manifest in the more quiet and\\ngentle movements of the prisoners, in their\\nsoftened and subdued tones of voice, and in\\ntheir ready and cheerful obedience. It has\\ndeepened my conviction that, however de-\\ngraded by sin, or hardened by outrage or\\nwrong, while reason maintains its empire over\\nthe mind, there is no heart so callous or\\nobdurate that the voice of sympathy and\\nkindness may not reach it, or so debased as\\nto give no responses to the tone of Christian\\nlove.\\nStory of Captain Pillsbury.\\nCaptain Pillsbury, warden of Weathersfield\\nprison, in Connecticut, was also remarkably\\nsuccessful in his treatment and reclamation\\nof criminals by humane methods. He pos-\\nsessed a moral courage which approached\\nalmost to the sublime. Previous to his\\nappointment the usual harsh mode of treat-\\nment was enforced, with the usual hardening\\nand debasing effects upon the prisoners,\\nproducing in them a deep-rooted and\\nsettled malignity. Crime was increasing in\\nenormity, and the prison was every year\\nrunning the State into deeper debt.\\nCaptain Pillsbury completely altered the\\nmode of treatment he directed his efforts\\nto the reformation of the prisoners by means\\nof kind treatment. He encouraged them in\\na course of good conduct; he cheered them\\non in their return to virtue. He at once\\nliberated the worst convicts from the degrada-", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0207.jp2"}, "208": {"fulltext": "172\\nTHE GREATEST OF THESE IS CHARITY.\\nHis treatment of one of the prisoners was\\nremarkable. The man was of herculean\\nproportions, a prison-breaker, the terror of\\ntion of irons, and told them he would trust\\nthem! The policy was magical in its effects.\\nThe men gave him their confidence; they\\nmanifested the greatest respect for his rule;\\norder and regularity prevailed in the prison\\nand the institution soon began to pay for\\nitself b t own labor.\\nthe country, and had plunged deeper and\\ndeeper into crime for seventeen years. Cap-\\ntain Pillsbury told him when he came that\\nhe hoped he would not repeat the attempts", "height": "3481", "width": "2498", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0208.jp2"}, "209": {"fulltext": "THE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\n173\\nat escape which he had made elsewhere. I\\nwill make you as comfortable as I possibly\\ncan, and shall be anxious to be your friend\\nand I hope you will not get me into any\\ndifficulty on your account. There is a cell\\nintended for solitary confinement, but we\\nnever use it and I should be very sorry\\never to turn the key upon anybody in it.\\nYou may range the place as freely as I do if\\nyou will trust me as I shall trust you.\\nYou Treat Me Like a Man.\\nThe man was sulky, and for weeks showed\\nonly very gradual symptoms of softening\\nunder Captain Pillsbury s influence. At\\nlength information was given him that the\\nman intended to break out of poison. The\\ncaptain called him, and taxed him with it\\nthe man preserved a gloomy silence. He\\nwas told that it was now necessary that he\\nshould be locked up in the solitary cell.\\nThe captain, who was a small, slight man,\\nwent before, and the giant followed. When\\nthey had reached the narrowest part of the\\npassage the governor turned round with his\\nlamp, and looked in the criminal s face.\\nNow, said he, I ask you whether you\\nhave treated me as I deserve? I have done\\neverything I could think of to make you\\ncomfortable I have trusted you, and you\\nhave never given me the least confidence in\\nreturn, and have even planned to get me into\\ndifficulty. Is this kind? And yet I cannot\\nbear to lock you up, if I had the least sign\\nthat you cared for me.\\nThe man burst into tears. Sir, said he,\\nI have been a very devil these seventeen\\nyears; but you treat me like a man.\\nCome, let us go back, said the captain.\\nThe convict had the free range of the prison\\nas before. From this hour he began to open\\nhis heart to the captain, and cheerfully ful-\\niilled his whole term of imprisonment.\\nconfiding to his friend, as they arose, all\\nimpulses to violate his trust, and all facilities\\nfor doing so which he imagined he saw.\\nCaptain Pillsbury is the warden who, on\\nbeing told that a desperate prisoner had\\nsworn to murder him, speedily sent for him\\nto shave him, allowing no one to be present.\\nHe eyed the man, pointed to the razor, and\\ndesired him to shave him. The prisoner s\\nhand trembled, but he went through it very\\nwell. When he had done the captain said,\\nI have been told you meant to murder me,\\nbut I thought I might trust you. God\\nbless you, sir replied the regenerated man.\\nSuch is the power of faith in man.\\nMajor Goodell, governor of the State\\nPrison at Auburn, New York, and Mr. Isaac\\nT. Hopper, another prison inspector, were\\nequally successful in the treatment and re-\\nclamation of criminals. Of fifty individuals\\nwhom this last-named admirable man suc-\\nceeded in reclaiming, only two relapsed into\\nbad habits a fact which speaks volumes in\\nfavor of the power of gentleness.\\nA Kind Word.\\nOh there has many a tear been shed.\\nAnd many a heart been broken,\\nFor want of a gentle hand stretched forth.\\nOr a word in kindness spoken.\\nThen O with brotherly regard\\nGreet every son of sorrow\\nSo from each tone of love his heart\\nNew hope, new strength, shall borrow.\\nThough I speak with the tongues of\\nmen and of angels, and have not charity, I\\nam become as sounding brass, or a tinkling\\ncymbal.\\nWho is My Neighbor.\\nThy neighbor? It is he whom thou\\nHast power to aid or bless.\\nWhose aching heart or burning brow\\nThy soothing hand may press.\\nThy neighbor? Tis the fainting poor,\\nWhose eye with want is dim,\\nk", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0209.jp2"}, "210": {"fulltext": "174\\nTHE GREATEST OF THESE IS CHARITY.\\nWhom hunger sends from door to door,\\nGo thou and succor him.\\nThy neighbor? Tis that weary man\\nWhose years are at their brim,\\nBent low with sickness, care, and pain,\\nGo thou and comfort him.\\nThy neighbor Tis the heart bereft\\nOf every earthly gem,\\nWidow and orphan helpless left,\\nGo thou and shelter them.\\nThy neighbor? Yonder toiling slave,\\nFettered in thought and limb.\\nWhose hopes are all beyond the grave,\\nGo thou and ransom him.\\nWhere er thou meet st a human form\\nLess favored than thy own,\\nRemember, tis thy neighbor worm,\\nThy brother or thy son.\\nOh pass not, pass not heedless by\\nPerhaps thou canst redeem\\nThe breaking heart from misery,\\nGo share thy lot Adth him.\\nRandolph Bartholomay.\\nA circumstance is mentioned by the natu-\\nralist Audubon, is occurring within his\\nknowledge a few years ago, of a certain\\nindividual who for many years had led the\\nlife of a pirate. On one occasion, while\\ncruising along the cost of Florida, he landed,\\nand was lying in the shade on the bank of a\\ncreek, when his attention was arrested by the\\nsoft and mournful note of a Zenaida dove.\\nAs he listened, each repetition of the melan-\\ncholy sound seemed to him a voice of pity;\\nit seemed to him like a voice from the past,\\na message from childhood s innocent and\\nsunny hours then it appeared like a voice of\\ndeep, sad sorrow for him, the far-off wan-\\nderer, the self-ruined, guilty prodigal; and\\nso thoroughly did it rouse him from his long\\nsleep of sin, that there, on that lonely spot,\\nwhere no minister of mercy had ever stood,\\nhe resolved within himself to renounce his\\nguilty life, return to virtuous society, and\\nseek the mercy of God a resolution which\\nhe subsequently fulfilled, as we are assured\\nby the narrator.\\nThere is that in the human heart which\\nresponds to the voice of gentle, pitying love,\\nwhen all other agencies have losf their\\npower; when all the thunder and lightning\\nof Sinai itself might roll and glitter in vain.\\nWould that there were more, among those\\ndisposed to do good, who would make full\\nproof of the omnipotence of the spirit of\\nkindness, pity, and love. The Spirit of Jesus\\nmust be the model of our benevolence.\\nWhat Gentleness Can Do.\\nHere is aiender story my eye fell on some\\ntime since. A little fellow, ten years old,\\nwas pulling a heavy cart, loaded with pieces\\nof broken board and lath taken from some\\nstructure which had been pulled down.\\nSuch a sight is common enough in any of\\nour large cities. He was evidently very\\ntired. He wanted to rest himself beneath a\\nshade-tree. The little fellow s feet were\\nbruised and sore; his clothing was rags;\\nhis face was pinched and pale, and on it was\\nfalling that pathetic look of maturity and\\ncare you so often see shadowing the faces\\nof children among the very poor.\\nThe poor boy lay down on the grass\\nbeneath the tree, and in five minutes he was\\nfast asleep. His bare feet just touched the\\ncurbstone; his old hat fell from his head and\\nrolled on to the sidewalk. And if you had\\nlooked into that upturned face you would\\nhave seen printed on it the marks of scanty\\nfood, of insufficient clothing, of a childhood\\nuntouched of love and sunshine, of strength\\ntoo early strained in this sad battle of life.\\nThen a curious thing took place. An old\\nman, bowed and poor enough himself, and\\nwith a wood-saw on his arm, crossed the", "height": "3497", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0210.jp2"}, "211": {"fulltext": "THE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\n175\\nstreet for the shade of the same tree. He\\nglanced at the boy, turned away, glanced\\nagain, seemed to read the pitiful writing on\\nthe boy s face and to interpret it from his\\nown experience. Then he went softly on\\ntip-toe, bent over the boy, took from his\\npocket his own scant dinner a bit of bread\\nand meat and laid it down beside the lad,\\nthen walked quickly and quietly away, look-\\ning back every moment, but keeping himself\\nout of sight, as though he would escape\\nthanks.\\nBut other passers-by had noticed now the\\nsleeping-boy, attracted by the kindly ma-\\nnoeuvering of the old man. He had said no\\nword whatever. He had simply done his\\ngentle deed and gone on.\\nThe Old Wood-Sawyer Did it All.\\nBut now a man walked down from his\\nsteps and left a half-dollar beside the poor\\nman s bread and meat; a woman came and\\nleft a good hat in the place of the old one\\na child came with a pair of shoes, and a boy\\nwith a coat and vest. Others of the passing\\nthrong upon the street halted, whispered,\\ndropped dimes and quarters besides the first\\npiece of silver.\\nSuddenly the little pinched-faced fellow\\nawoke, startled, as if it were a crime to sleep\\nthere. He saw the bread, the clothing, the\\nmoney, the score of people waiting with\\ntheir kindly faces. He saw it was all tangi-\\nble and not a dream. Then he sat down,\\ncovered his thin face with his thin hands,\\nand sobbed aloud. From the old wood-\\nsawyer, with pocket empty of his dinner\\nbut with heart filled with beneficence, cer-\\ntainly had gone forth a most controlling and\\nloving might, compelling all these helpers\\nof the waif of the city streets; while sleep,\\nfor a time, put its blessing on the pitiful\\nyoung-old face.\\nNo Dearth of Kindness.\\nThere s no dearth of kindness\\nIn this world of ours\\nOnlj in our blindness\\nWe gather thorns for flowers\\nOutward, we are spuming.\\nTrampling one another\\nWhile we are inly yearning\\nAt the name of Brother\\nThere s no dearth of kindness\\nOr love among mankind,\\nBut in darkling loneness\\nHooded hearts grow blind\\nFull of kindness tingling,\\nSoul is shut from soul.\\nWhen they might be mingling\\nIn one kindred whole\\nThere s no dearth of kindness.\\nThough it be unspoken,\\nFrom the heart it sendeth\\nSmiles of heaven, in token\\nThat there be none so lowly\\nBut have some angel- touch\\nYet, nursing loves unholy,\\nWe live for self too much\\nAs the wild-rose bloweth,\\nAs runs the happy river,\\nKindness freely floweth\\nIn the heart forever\\nBut if men will hanker\\nEver for golden dust,\\nBest of hearts will canker,\\nBrightest spirits rust.\\nThere s no dearth of kindness\\nIn this world of ours\\nOnly ill our blindness\\nWe gather thorns for flowers.\\nO cherish God s best giving.\\nFalling from above\\nLife were not worth living,\\nWere it not for love.\\nGerai,d Massey.\\nDuring one of our early American wars,\\na company of Delaware Indians attacked a\\nsmall detachment of British troops, and\\ndefeated them. As the Indians had greatly\\nthe advantage of swiftness of foot, and were\\neager in the pursuit, very few of the fugi-\\nL", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0211.jp2"}, "212": {"fulltext": "17\u00c2\u00ab\\nTHE GREATEST OF THESE IS CHARITY.\\ntives escaped; and those who fell into the\\nenemy s hands were treated with a cruelty\\nof which there are not many examples even\\nin this country. Two of the Indians came\\nup with a young officer, and attacked him\\nwith great fury. As they were armed with\\ntomahawks, he had no hope of escape, and\\nthought only of selling his life as dearly as\\nhe could; but just at this crisis, another\\nIndian came up, who seemed to be advanced\\nin years, and was armed with a bow and\\narrows.\\nThe Old Indian With a Bow.\\nThe old man instantly drew his bow; but\\nhaving taken aim at the officer, he suddenly\\ndropped the point of his arrow, and inter-\\nposed between him and his pursuers, who\\nwere about to cut him to pieces. They\\nretired with respect. The old man then\\ntook the officer by the hand, soothed him\\ninto confidence by caresses; and having\\nconducted him to his hut, treated him with\\na kindness which did honor to his profes-\\nsions. He made him less a slave than a\\ncompanion, taught him the language of the\\ncountry, and instructed him in the rude arts\\nthat are practiced by the inhabitants.\\nThey lived together in the most cordial\\namity: and the young officer found nothing\\nto regret, but that sometimes the old man\\nfixed his eyes upon him, and having regarded\\nhim for some minutes with a steady and\\nsilent attention, burst into tears. In the\\nmeantime, the spring returned, and the\\nIndians having recourse to their arms, again\\ntook the field. The old man, who was still\\nvigorous, and well able to bear the fatigues\\nof war, set out with them, and was accom-\\npanied by his prisoner. They marched\\nseveral hundred miles across the forest, and\\ncame at length to a plain where the British\\nforces were encamped.\\nThe old man showed his prisoner the\\ntents at a distance at the same time re-\\nmarked his countenance with the most dili-\\ngent attention There, said he, are your\\ncountrymen there is the enemy who wait to\\ngive us battle. Remember that I have saved\\nthy life, that I have taught thee to construct\\na canoe, and to arm thyself with a bow and\\narrow, to surprise the beaver in the forest,\\nto wield the tomahawk, and to scalp the\\nenemy. What wast thou when I first took\\nthee to my hut? Thy hands were those of\\nan infant; they were fit neither to procure\\nthee sustenance nor safety. Thy soul was\\nin utter darkness; thou wast ignorant of\\neverything; and thou owest all things to\\nme. Wilt thou then go over to thy nation,\\nand take up the hatchet against us\\nThe Captive Released.\\nThe officer replied, that he would rather\\nlose his own life than take away that of his\\ndeliverer. The Indian then bending down\\nhis head, and covering his face with both\\nhis hands, stood some time silent; then\\nlooking earnestly at the prisoner, he said,\\nin a voice that was at once softened by\\ntenderness and grief, Hast thou a father?\\nMy father, said the young man, was\\nalive when I left my country.\\nAlas, said the Indian, how wretched\\nhe must be! He paused a moment, and\\nthen added, Dost thou know that I have\\nbeen a father? I am a father no more I\\nsaw my son fall in battle he fought by my\\nside I saw him expire; but he died like a\\nman he was covered with wounds when he\\nfell dead at my feet but I have revenged\\nhim.\\nHe prononnced these words with the\\nutmost vehemence; his body shook with a\\nuniversal tremor, and he was almost stifled\\nwith sighs that he would not suffer to escape", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0212.jp2"}, "213": {"fulltext": "THE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\n177\\nhim. There was a keen restlessness in his\\neye, but no tear would flow to his reHef. At\\nlength he became calm by degrees, and turn-\\ning towards the east, where the sun was\\nthen rising, Dost thou see, said he to the\\nyoung officer, the beauty of that sky, which\\nsparkles with prevailing day? and hast thou\\npleasure in the sight?\\nYes, replied the officer, I have pleasure\\nin the beauty of so fine a sky. I have\\nnone, said the Indian; and his tears then\\nfound their way. A few minutes afterwards\\nhe showed the young man a magnolia in full\\nbloom. Dost thou see that beautiful tree?\\nsaid he, and dost thou look upon it with\\npleasure? Yes, repHed the officer, I\\ndo look with pleasure upon that beautiful\\ntree. I have pleasure in looking upon it\\nno more, said the Indian hastily; and im-\\nmediately added, Go, return back, that thy\\nfather may still have pleasure when he sees\\nthe sun rise in the morning, and the trees\\nblossom in the spring.\\nWhat a power is that of love The world\\nwould be poor without it. Let love burn\\nlet it toil and weep. It is sunshine and\\nbeauty. It is the brightest glory of any\\nlife.\\nDEEDS OF KINDNESS.\\nLet some noble deed be, thine\\nBefore the day is ended\\nEre the sun doth cease to shine,\\nEre on thy bed thou dost recline,\\nGo where the fevered brow doth pine,\\nAnd see its wants attended,\\nAnd learn that in its restless dream\\nIt craves the pure and limpid stream,\\nAnd know that in its fitful madness\\nIt drains the cooling draught with gladness\\nAnd the parched lips will bless thee\\nFor the deed of kindness shown,\\nWhile some other tongue will tell thee\\nTwas not done to one alone\\nFor an Eye that never sleepeth\\nBeheld the action from his throne.\\nLet some tearful eye be dried\\nBefore the day is ended\\nTake the wanderer to thy side,\\nBut his sad folly ne er deride\\nA multitude of sins thou lt hide.\\nIn some poor soul befriended,\\nAnd learn that in his reckless race\\nOfttimes the pathway he will trace\\nTo some harsh words, unkindly spoken,\\nAnd which his sobbing heart hath broken.\\nPour the balm of consolation\\nWhile the listening ear is shown,\\nWound it not by ostentation\\nDo thy Master s work alone,\\nRemembering He ever keepeth\\nA faithful record on his throne.\\nLet some hungry child be fed\\nBefore the day is ended\\nGo the orphan cries for bread.\\nWhere squallor reigns in all its dread,\\nAnd where the widow s mournful tread\\nShould with thy steps be blended,\\nAnd see where vice and misery haunt,\\nWhere shrivelled babe and woman gaunt\\nAre stretched on beds where filth is reeking,\\nAnd tottering age with ruffians greeting\\nPerhaps a word of thine may cheer\\nSome sad heart whose hope had flown,\\nAnd bid it cast aside its fear\\nFor a love before unknown.\\nSeeking Him who ever meeteth\\nA suppliant at Mercy s throne.\\nRichard Penrose.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0213.jp2"}, "214": {"fulltext": "I\\nTHE WELCOME RETURN.\\n178", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0214.jp2"}, "215": {"fulltext": "CHAPTER X.\\nLOOKING ON THE BRIGHT SIDE.\\nSINGLE bitter word may disquiet\\nan entire family for a whole\\nday. One surly glance casts a\\ngloom over the household,\\nwhile a smile, like a gleam of\\nsunshine, may light up the\\ndarkest and weariest hours. Like unex-\\npected flowers, which spring up along our\\npath, full of freshness, fragrance and beauty,\\ndo kind words and gentle acts and sweet dis-\\npositions, make glad the home where peace\\nand blessing dwell.\\nNo matter how humble the abode, if it be\\nthus garnished with grace and sweetened\\nwith kindness and smiles, the heart will turn\\nlovingly toward it from all the tumult of the\\nworld, and it will be the dearest spot beneath\\nthe circuit of the sun.\\nAnd the influences of home perpetuate\\nthemselves. The gentle grace of the mother\\nlives in the daughter long after her head is\\npillowed in the dust of death and the\\nfatherly kindness finds its echo in the nobility\\nand courtesy of sons, who come to wear his\\nmantle and to fill his place while, on the\\nother hand, from an unhappy, misgoverned,\\nand disordered home, go forth persons who\\nshall make other homes miserable, and per-\\npetuate the sourness and sadness, the conten-\\ntions and strifes and railings which have made\\ntheir own early lives so wretched and dis-\\ntorted.\\nThere are people who are snapping-turtles\\nin the form of human beings. They are sour,\\nmorose, gloomy, always looking on the dark\\nside. They give one the chills.\\nToward the cheerful home, the children\\ngather as clouds and as doves to their\\nwindows, while from the home which is the\\nabode of discontent and strife and trouble,\\nthey fly forth as vultures to rend their prey.\\nBe of Good Cheer.\\nThere never was a day so long\\nIt did not have an end\\nThere never was a man so poor\\nHe did not have a friend\\nAnd when the long day finds an end\\nIt brings the time of rest,\\nAnd he who has one steadfast friend\\nShould count himself as blest.\\nThere never was a cloud that hid\\nThe sunlight all from sight\\nThere never was a life so sad\\nIt had not some delight.\\nPerchance for us the sun at last\\nMay break the dark cloud througJi,\\nAnd life may hold a happiness\\nThat never yet it knew.\\nSo let s not be discouraged, friend.\\nWhen shadows cross our way.\\nOf trust and hope I ve some to lend\\nSo borrow from me, pray.\\nGood friends are we, therefore not poor,.\\nThough worldly wealth we lack\\nBehold the sun shines forth at last,\\nAnd drives the dark clouds back\\nEben E. Rexford.\\nThe class of men who disturb and distress\\nthe world, are not those born and nurtured\\namid the hallowed influences of Christian\\nhomes but rather those whose early life\\nhas been a scene of trouble and vexation\\nwho started wrong and whose course is one\\nof disaster and trouble.\\n179", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0215.jp2"}, "216": {"fulltext": "180\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nGod bless the cheerful person man,\\nwoman or child, old or young, illiterate or\\neducated, handsome or homely. Over and\\nabove every other social trait stands cheer-\\nfulness. What the sun is to nature, what\\nthe stars are to night, what God is to the\\nstricken heart which knows how to lean upon\\nhim, are cheerful persons in the house and\\nby the wayside. Man recognizes the magic\\nof a cheerful influence in woman more quickly\\nand more willingly than the potency of\\ndazzling genius, of commanding worth, or\\neven of enslaving beauty.\\nNew Beauty Everywhere.\\nIf we are cheerful and contented, all nature\\nsmiles with us the air seems more balmy,\\nthe sky more clear, the ground has a brighter\\ngreen, the trees have a richer foliage, the\\nflowers a more fragrant smell, the birds sing\\nmore sweetly, and the sun, moon and stars\\nall appear more beautiful.\\nCheerfulness How sweet in infancy, how\\nlovely in youth, how saintly in age There\\nare a few noble natures whose very presence\\ncarries sunshine with them wherever they\\ngo a sunshine which means pity for the\\npoor, sympathy for the suffering, help for\\nthe unfortunate, and benignity toward all.\\nHow such a face enlivens every other face it\\nmeets, and carries into every company vivacity\\nand joy and gladness\\nBut the scowl and frown, begotten in a\\nselfish heart, and manifesting itself in daily,\\nalmost hourly fretfulness, complaining, fault-\\nfinding, angry criticisms, spiteful comments\\non the motives and actions of others, how\\nthey thin the cheek, shrivel the face, sour and\\nsadden the countenance No joy in the\\nheart, no nobility in the soul, no generosity\\nin the nature the whole character as cold as\\nan iceberg, as hard as Alpine rock, as arid\\nas the wastes of Sahara\\nReader, which of these countenances are\\nyou cultivating? If you find yourself losing\\nall your confidence in human nature, you are\\nnearing an old age of vinegar, of wormwood\\nand of gall and not a mourner will follow\\nyour solitary bier, not one tear-drop shall\\never fall on your forgotten grave.\\nLook at the bright side. Keep the sun-\\nshine of a living faith in the heart. Do not\\nlet the shadow of discouragement and de-\\nspondency fall on your path. However\\nweary you may be, the promises of God will\\nnever cease to shine, like the stars at night,\\nto cheer and strengthen. Learn to wait as\\nwell as labor. The best harvests are the\\nlongest in ripening. It is not pleasant to\\nwork in the earth plucking the ugly tares\\nand weeds, but it is as necessary as sowing\\nthe seed.\\nThe Silver Lining.\\nThe harder the task, the more need of\\nsinging. A hopeful spirit will discern the\\nsilver lining of the darkest cloud, for back of\\nall planning and doing, with its attendant\\ndiscouragements and hindrances, shines the\\nlight of Divine promise and help. Ye are\\nGod s husbandmen. It is for you to be\\nfaithful. He gives the increase.\\nBe cheerful, for it is the only happy life.\\nThe times may be hard, but it will make\\nthem no easier to wear a gloomy and sad\\ncountenance. It is the sunshine and not the\\ncloud that makes the flower. There is always\\nthat before or around us which should fill\\nthe heart with warmth. The sky is blue\\nten times where it is black once. You have\\ntroubles, it may be. So have others. None\\nare free from them. Perhaps it is as well\\nthat none should be. They give sinew and\\ntone to life ^fortitude and courage to man.\\nThat would be a dull sea, if always smooth,\\nand the sailor would never get skill.", "height": "3497", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0216.jp2"}, "217": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0217.jp2"}, "218": {"fulltext": "182\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nLife was meant to be joyous and glad. It is\\nthe duty of every one to extract all the\\nhappiness and enjoyment he can without and\\nwithin him, and, above all, he should look\\non the bright side of things. What though\\nthings do look a little dark The lane will\\nturn, and the night will end in broad day.\\nIn the long run, the great balance rights\\nitself. What is ill becomes well what is\\nwrong becomes right. Men are not made to\\nliang down either heads or lips and those\\nAvho do, only show that they are departing\\nfrom the paths of true common sense and\\nright.\\nThere is more virtue in one sunbeam than\\na whole hemisphere of cloud and gloom.\\nTherefore, we repeat, look on the bright side\\nof things. Cultivate what is warm and genial\\nnot the cold and repulsive, the dark and\\nmorose. Don t neglect your duty; live\\ndown prejudice.\\nGood Morning.\\nWe always know the cheerful man by his\\nhearty good morning. As well might\\nfog, and cloud, and vapor hope to cling to\\nthe sun illumined landscape, as the blues and\\nmoroseness to remain in any countenance\\nAvhen the cheerful one comes with a hearty\\ngood morning. Dear reader, don t forget\\nto say it. Say it to your parents, your\\nbrothers and sisters, your schoolmates, your\\nteachers and say it cheerfully and with a\\nsmile it will do you good, and do your\\nfriends good. There s a kind of inspiration\\nin every good morning, heartily and\\nsmilingly spoken, that helps to make hope\\nfresher and work lighter. It seems really to\\nmake the morning good, and a prophecy of\\na good day to come after it.\\nAnd if this be true of the good morning,\\nit is also of all kind, cheerful greetings;\\nthey cheer the discouraged, rest the tired\\none, and somehow make the wheels of time\\nrun more smoothly. Be liberal then, and\\nlet no morning pass, however dark and\\ngloomy it may be, that you do not help at\\nleast to brighten it by your smiles and cheer-\\nful words.\\nThe cheerful are the busy; when trouble\\nknocks at your door or rings the bell, he\\nwill generally retire if you send him word\\nengaged. And a busy life cannot well be\\notherwise than cheerful. Frogs do not\\ncroak in running water. And active minds\\nare seldom troubled with gloomy forebod-\\nings. They come up only from the stag-\\nnant depths of a spirit unstirred by generous\\nimpulses or the blessed necessities of honest\\ntoil.\\nWhere Heroines are Found.\\nWhat shall we say by way of commending\\nthat sweet cheerfulness by which a good and\\nsensible woman diffuses the oil of gladness\\nin the proper sphere of home. The best\\nspecimens of heroism in the world were\\nnever gazetted. They play their role in\\ncommon life, and their reward is not in the\\nadmiration of spectators, but in the deep joy\\nof their own conscious thoughts. It is easy\\nfor a housewife to make arrangements for an\\noccasional feast; but let me tell you what is\\ngreater and better amid the weariness and\\ncares of hfe; the troubles, real and imagi-\\nnary, of a family; the many thoughts and\\ntoils which are requisite to make the family\\nhome of thrift, order and comfort; the\\nvarieties of temper and cross-lines of taste\\nand inclination which are to be found in a\\nlarge household to maintain a heart full of\\ngood nature and a face always bright with\\ncheerfulness, this is a perpetual festivity. We\\ndo not mean a mere superficial simper, which\\nhas no more character in it than the flow of\\na brook, but that exhaustless patience, and\\n4", "height": "3498", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0218.jp2"}, "219": {"fulltext": "LOOKING ON THE BRIGHT SIDE.\\n183\\nself-control, and kindness, and tact which\\nspring from good sense and brave purposes.\\nNeither is it the mere reflection of prosperity,\\nfor cheerfulness, then, is no virtue. Its best\\nexhibition is in the dark back-ground of real\\nadversity. Affairs assume a gloomy aspect,\\npoverty is hovering about the door, sickness\\nhas already entered, days of hardship and\\nnights of watching go slowly by, and now\\nyou see the triumph of which we speak.\\nWhen the strong man has bowed himself,\\nand his brow is knit and creased, you will\\nsee how the whole life of the household\\nseems to hang on the frailer form, which,\\nwith solicitudes of her own, passing, it may\\nbe, under the terrible shadow of a great\\nsorrow, has an eye and an ear for every one\\nbut herself, suggestive of expedients, hopeful\\nin extremities, helpful in kind words and\\naffectionate smiles, morning, noon and night,\\nthe medicine, the light, the heart of a whole\\nhousehold.\\nChoosing the Honey.\\nThe industrious bee stops not to complain\\nthat there are so many poisonous flowers\\nand thorny branches in his road, but buzzes\\non, selecting the honey where he can find it,\\nand passing quietly by the places where it is\\nnot. There is enough in this world to com-\\nplain about and find fault with, if men have\\nthe disposition. We often travel on a hard\\nand uneven road, but with a cheerful spirit\\nand a heart to praise God for his mercies,\\nwe may walk therein with great comfort and\\ncome to the end of our journey in peace.\\nLet us try to be like the sunshiny member\\nof the family, who has the inestimable art to\\nmake all duty seem pleasant, all self-denial\\nand exertion easy and desirable, even disap-\\npointment not so blank and crushing; who\\nis like a bracing, crisp, frosty atmosphere\\nthroughout the home, without a suspicion\\nof the element that chills and pinches, or\\nbenumbs the heart.\\nYou have known people within whose in-\\nfluence you felt cheerful, amiable and hope-\\nful, equal to anything! I do not know a\\nmore enviable gift than the energy to sway\\nothers to. good to diffuse around us an at-\\nmosphere of cheerfulness, piety, truthfulness,\\ngenerosity, magnanimity. It is not a matter\\nof great talent; not entirely a matter of great\\nenergy; but rather of earnestness and hon-\\nesty, and of that quiet, constant energy which\\nis like soft rain gently penetrating the soil.\\nThe Colt in Harness.\\nIf any man has springs of cheerfulness and\\nof good nature in him, in the name of the\\nGod of benevolence let him not stop them\\nup. Let him rather keep them open, that\\nthey may be a source of joy and consolation\\nto his fellow-men. I have sometimes heard\\nit said of young men, that before they joined\\nthe Church they were good fellows, but that\\nafterward there was nothing in them. It is\\nbecause some men think that religion con-\\nsists in tying up the natural faculties. Q^\\nthe contrary, it consists in untying them, in\\ngiving them a wholesome development, and\\nso making them better.\\nWe do not put a colt into the harness for\\nthe sake of diminishing his power, but sim-\\nply for the sake of directing it; and we are\\nputting the harness on men, not to take away\\ntheir power, but to organize it for use, and to\\nmake it more facile. And in regard to good\\ncheer, humor, buoyancy of disposition, hope-\\nfulness if a man has it naturally, it is^an\\ninestimable gift; and religion should make it\\nmore not less.\\nGive us, O give us the man who sings at\\nhis work Be his occupation what it may,\\nhe is equal to any of those who follow the\\nsame pursuit in silent sullenness. He will", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0219.jp2"}, "220": {"fulltext": "184\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\ndo more in the same time he will do it\\nbetter he will persevere longer. One is\\nscarcely sensible of fatigue whilst he marches\\nto music. The very stars are said to make\\nharmony as they revolve in their spheres.\\nWondrous is the strength of cheerfulness,\\naltogether past calculation its powers of\\nendurance. Efforts, to be permanently use-\\nful, must be uniformly joyous a spirit all\\nsunshine graceful from very gladness\\nbeautiful because bright.\\nSunny People.\\nThere is many a rest in the road of life.\\nIf we only would stop to take it,\\nAnd many a tone from the better land.\\nIf the querulous heart would wake it\\nTo the sunny soul that is full of hope.\\nAnd whose beautiful trust ne er faileth,\\nThe grass is green and the flowers are bright,\\nThough the wintry storm prevaileth.\\nBetter to hope, though the clouds hang low,\\nAnd to keep the eyes still lifted\\nFor the sweet blue sky will soon peep through,\\nWhen the ominous clouds are rifted\\nThere was never a night without a day.\\nOr an evening without a morning\\nAnd the darkest hour, as the proverb goes,\\nIs the hour before the dawning.\\nThere is many a gem in the path of life,\\nWhich we pass in our idle pleasure.\\nThat is richer far than the jeweled crown.\\nOr the miser s hoarded treasure\\nIt may be the love of a little child.\\nOr a mother s praj^ers to Heaven\\nOr only a beggar s grateful thanks\\nFor a cup of water given.\\nBetter to weave in the web of life\\nA bright and golden filling,\\nAnd do God s will with a ready heart\\nAnd hands that are swift and willing,\\nThan to snap the delicate, slender threads\\nOf our curious lives asunder,\\nAnd then blame Heaven for the tangled ends.\\nAnd sit and grieve and wonder.\\nIf people will only notice, they will be\\namazed to find how much a really enjoyable\\nevening owes to smiles. But few consider\\nwhat an important symbol of fine intellect\\nand fine feeling they are. Yet all smiles,\\nafter childhood, are things of education.\\nSavages do not smile; coarse, brutal, cruel\\nmen may laugh, but they seldom smile. The\\naffluence, the benediction, the radiance, which\\nFills the silence like a speech\\nis the smile of a full appreciative heart.\\nThe face that grows finer as it listens, and\\nthen breaks into sunshine instead of words,\\nhas a subtle, charming influence, universally\\nfelt, though very seldom understood or ac-\\nknowledged. Personal and sarcastic remarks\\nshow not only a bad heart and a bad head,\\nbut bad taste also.\\nNow, society may tolerate a bad heart and\\na bad head, but it will not endure bad taste;\\nand it is in just such points as this that the\\nconventional laws which they have made,\\nrepresent and enforce real obligations. There\\nare many who would not cease from evil\\nspeaking because it is wrong, who yet\\nrestrain themselves because it is vulgar.\\nAvoid Sarcasnl.\\nLord Bacon tells of a nobleman whom he\\nknew a man who gave lordly entertain-\\nments, but always suffered some sarcastic\\npersonality to mar a good dinner, adding,\\nDiscretion of speech is more than elo-\\nquence; and to speak agreeably to him with\\nwhom we deal is more than to speak in good\\nwords; for he that hath a satirical vein,\\nmaking others afraid of his wit, hath need\\nto be afraid of another s memory.\\nSome men move through life as a band of\\nmusic moves down the street, flinging out\\npleasure on every side through the air to\\nevery one, far and near, that can listen.\\nSome men fill the air with their presence\\nand sweetness, as orchards in October days", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0220.jp2"}, "221": {"fulltext": "A SONG TO CHEER.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0221.jp2"}, "222": {"fulltext": "THE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nfill the air with the perfume of ripe fruit.\\nSome women cling to their own houses, like\\nthe honeysuckle over the door, yet, like it,\\nsweeten all the region with the subtle fra-\\ngrance of their goodness. There are trees\\nof righteousness, which are ever dropping\\nprecious fruit around them. There are lives\\nthat shine like star-beams, or charm the\\nheart like songs sung upon a holy day.\\nHow great a bounty and blessing it is to\\nhold the royal gifts of the soul, so that they\\nshall be music to some and fragrance to\\nothers, and life to all It would be no\\nunworthy thing to live for, to make the\\npower which we have within us the breath\\nof other men s joy; to scatter sunshine where\\nonly clouds and shadows reign; to fill the\\natmosphere where earth s weary toilers must\\nstand, with a brightness which they cannot\\ncreate for themselves, and which they long\\nfor, enjoy and appreciate.\\nFinding Good in Ever3rthing.\\nIt has been said that men succeed in life\\nquite as much by their temper as by their\\ntalents. However this may be, it is certain\\nthat their happiness in life depends mainly\\nupon their equanimity of disposition, their\\npatience and forbearance, and their kindness\\nand thoughtfulness for those about them.\\nIt is really true as Plato says, that in seek-\\ning the good of others we find our own.\\nThere are some natures so happily consti-\\ntuted that they can find good in everything.\\nThere is no calamity so great but they can\\neduce comfort or consolation from it no sky\\nso black but they can discover a gleam of sun-\\nshine issuing through it from some quarter\\nor another; and if the sun be not visible to\\ntheir eyes, they at least comfort themselves\\nwith the thought that it is there, though\\nveiled from them for some good and wise\\npurpose.\\nSuch happy natures are to be envied.\\nThey have a beam in the eye a beam of\\npleasure, gladness, religious cheerfulness,\\nphilosophy, call it what you will. Sunshine\\nis about their hearts, and their mind gilds\\nwith its own hues all that it looks upon.\\nWhen they have burdens to bear, they bear\\nthern cheerfully not repining, nor fretting,\\nnor wasting their energies in useless lamenta-\\ntion, but struggling onward manfully, gath-\\nering up such flowers as lie along their path.\\nThe Best People Always Cheerful.\\nLet it not for a moment be supposed that\\nmen such as those we speak of are weak and\\nunreflective. The largest and most compre-\\nhensive natures are generally also the most\\ncheerful, the most loving, the most hopeful,\\nthe most trustful. It is the wise man, of\\nlarge vision, who is the quickest to discern\\nthe moral sunshine gleaming through the\\ndarkest cloud. In present evil, he sees\\nprospective good; in pain, he recognizes the\\neffort of nature to restore health; in trials,\\nhe finds correction and discipline; and in\\nsorrow and suffering, he gathers courage,\\nknowledge and the best practical wisdom.\\nWhen Jeremy Taylor had lost all when\\nhis house had been plundered, and his family\\ndriven out-of-doors, and all his worldly\\nestate had been sequestrated he could still\\nwrite thus: I am fallen into the hands of\\npublicans and sequestrators, and they have\\ntaken all from me what now Let me look\\nabout me. They have left me the sun and\\nmoon, a loving wife, and many friends to pity\\nme, and some to relieve me and I can still\\ndiscourse, and, unless I list, they have not\\ntaken away my merry countenance and my\\ncheerful spirit, and a good conscience, they\\nhave still left me the providence of God, and\\nall the promises of the Gospel, and my\\nreligion, and my hopes of heaven, and my", "height": "3496", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0222.jp2"}, "223": {"fulltext": "LOOKING ON THE BRIGHT SIDE.\\n187\\ncharity to them, too and still I sleep and\\ndigest, I eat and drink, I read and meditate.\\nAnd he that hath so many causes of joy,\\nand so great, is very much in love with\\nsorrow and peevishness, if he chooses to sit\\ndown upon his little handful of thorns.\\nA Happy Disposition.\\nAlthough cheerfulness of disposition is\\nvery much a matter of inborn temperament,\\nit is also capable of being trained and culti-\\nvated like any other habit. We may make\\nthe best of life, or we may make the worst of\\nit and it depends very much upon ourselves\\nwhether we extract joy or misery from it.\\nThere are always two sides of life on which\\nwe can look, according as we choose the\\nbright side or the gloomy. We can bring\\nthe power of the will to bear in making the\\nchoice, and thus cultivate the habit of being\\nhappy or the reverse. We can encourage\\nthe disposition of looking at the brightest\\nside of things, instead of the darkest. And\\nwhile we see the cloud, let us not shut our\\neyes to the silver lining.\\nThe beam in the eye sheds brightness,\\nbeauty, and joy upon Hfe in all its phases.\\nIt shines upon coldness, and warms it upon\\nsuffering, and comforts it; upon ignorance\\nand enlightens it upon sorrow, and cheers\\nit. The beam in the eye gives lustre to\\nintellect, and brightens beauty itself With-\\nout it the sunshine of life is not felt, flowers\\nbloom in vain, -the marvels of heaven and\\nearth are not seen or acknowledged, and\\ncreation is but a dreary, lifeless, soulless\\nblank.\\nWhile cheerfulness of disposition is a great\\nsource of enjoyment in life, it is also a great\\nsafeguard of character. A devotional writer\\nof the present day, in answer to the question,\\nHow are we to overcome temptations says\\nCheerfulness is the first thing, cheerfulness\\nis the second, and cheerfulness is the third.\\nIt furnishes the best soil for the growth of\\ngoodness and virtue. It gives brightness of\\nheart and elasticity of spirit. It is the com-\\npanion of charity, the nurse of patience, the\\nmother of wisdom. It is also the best of\\nmoral and mental tonics. The best cordial\\nof all, said Dr. Marshall Hall to one of his\\npatients, is cheerfulness. And Solomon\\nhas said that a merry heart doeth good like\\nmedicine.\\nThe Best Remedy.\\nWhen Luther was once applied to for a\\nremedy against melancholy, his advice was\\nGayety and courage innocent gayety, and\\nrational, honorable courage are the best\\nmedicine for young men, and for old men\\ntoo for all men against sad thoughts.\\nNext to music, if not before it, Luther loved\\nchildren and flowers. The great gnarled\\nman had a heart as tender as a woman s.\\nCheerfulness is also an excellent wearing\\nquality. It has been called the bright weather\\nof the heart. It gives harmony of soul, and\\nis a perpetual song without words. It is\\ntantamount to repose. It enables nature to\\nrecruit its strength; whereas worry and dis-\\ncontent debilitate it, involving constant wear-\\nand-tear.\\nHow is it that we see such men as Lord\\nPalmerston, Gladstone, and Senator John\\nSherman of Ohio, growing old in harness,\\nworking on vigorously to the end Mainly\\nthrough equanimity of temper and habitual\\ncheerfulness. They have educated them-\\nselves in the habit of endurance, of not being\\neasily provoked, of bearing and forbearing,\\nof hearing harsh and even unjust things said\\nof them without indulging in undue resent-\\nment, and avoiding worrying, petty, and\\nself-tormenting cares.\\nAn intimate friend of Lord Palmerston,", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0223.jp2"}, "224": {"fulltext": "If^\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nv-nc observed him closely for twenty years,\\nhas said that he never saw him angry, with\\npernaps one exception and that was when\\nthe Ministry responsible for the calamity in\\nAfghanistan, of which he was one, were un-\\njustly accused by their opponents of falsehood,\\nperjury, and willful mutilation of public docu-\\nments.\\nSo far as can be learned from biography,\\nmen of the greatest genius have been for the\\nmost part cheerful, contented men not eager\\nfor reputation, money, or power but relish-\\ning life, and keenly susceptible of enjoyment,\\nfs we find reflected in their works.\\nSteering Right Onward.\\nSuch seem to have been Homer, Horace,\\nVirgil, Montaigne, Shakespeare, Cervantes.\\nHealthy, serene cheerfulness is apparent in\\ntheir great creations. Among the same class\\nof cheerful-minded men may also be men-\\ntioned Luther, More, Bacon, Leonardo da\\nVinci, Raphael, and Michael Angelo. Per-\\nhaps they were happy because constantly\\noccupied, and in the pleasantest of all work\\nthat of creating out of the fulness and richness\\nof their great minds.\\nMilton, too, though a man of many trials\\nand sufferings, must have been a man of\\ngreat cheerfulness and elasticity of nature.\\nThough overtaken by blindness, deserted by\\nfriends, and fallen upon evil days darkness\\nbefore, and danger s voice behind yet did\\nhe not bate heart or hope, but still bore up\\nand steered right onward.\\nDr. Johnson, through all his trials and\\nsufferings and hard fights with fortune, was\\na courageous and cheerful natured man. He\\nmanfully made the best of life, and tried to\\nbe glad in it. Once, when a clergyman was\\ncom.plaining of the dulness of society in the\\ncountry, saying they only talk of runts\\n(young cows), Johnson felt flattered by the\\nobservation of Mrs. Thrale s mother, who\\nsaid, Sir, Dr. Johnson would learn to talk\\nof runts meaning that he was a man who\\nwould make the most of his situation, what-\\never it was.\\nJohnson was of opinion that a man grew\\nbetter as he grew older, and that his nature\\nmellowed with age. This is certainly a\\nmuch more cheerful view of human nature\\nthan that of Chesterfield, who saw life through\\nthe eyes of a cynic, and held that the heart\\nnever grows better by age: it only grows\\nharder. But both sayings may be true,\\naccording to the point from which life is\\nviewed and the temper by which a man is\\ngoverned for while the good, profiting by\\nexperience, and disciplining themselves by\\nself-control, will grow better, the ill-condi-\\ntioned, uninfluenced by experience, will only\\ngrow worse.\\nThe Man who can Laugh.\\nSir Walter Scott was a man full of the\\nmilk of human kindness. Everybody loved\\nhim. He was never five minutes in a room\\nere the little pets of the family, whether dumb\\nor lisping, had found out his kindness for all\\ntheir generation.\\nScott related to Captain Hall an incident\\nof his boyhood which showed the tenderness\\nof his nature. One day, a dog coming\\ntowards him, he took up a big stone, threw\\nit, and hit the dog. The poor creature had\\nstrength enough left to crawl up to him an d\\nlick his feet, although he saw its leg was\\nbroken. The incident, he said, had given\\nhim the bitterest remorse in his after-life;\\nbut he added, An early circumstance of that\\nkind, properly reflected on, is calculated to\\nhave the best effect on one s character\\nthroughout life.\\nGive me an honest laugher, Scott would\\nsay; and he himself laughed the heart s", "height": "3504", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0224.jp2"}, "225": {"fulltext": "LOOKING ON THE BRIGHT SIDE.\\n189\\nlaugh. He had a kind word for everybody,\\nand his kindness acted all round him like a\\ncontagion, dispelling the reserve and awe\\nwhich his great name was calculated to\\ninspire. He ll come here, said the keeper\\nof the ruins of Melrose Abbey to Washing-\\nton Irving he ll come here sometimes wi\\ngreat folks in his company, and the first I ll\\nknow of it is hearing his voice calling out,\\nJohnny! Johnny Bower! And when I go\\nout I m sure to be greeted wi a joke or a\\npleasant word. He ll stand and crack and\\nlaugh wi me just like an auld wife; and to\\nthink that of a man that has such an awfu\\nknowledge o history!\\nDr. Arnold was a man of the same hearty\\ncordiality of manner full of human sym-\\npathy. There was not a particle of affectation\\nor pretense of condescension about him.\\nI never knew such a humble man as the\\ndoctor, said the. parish clerk; he comes\\nand shakes us by the hand -as if he was one\\nof us. He used to come into my house,\\nsaid an old woman, and talk to me as if I\\nwere a lady. By the term lady she\\nmeant one of the upper ten.\\nAn Example of Cheerfulness.\\nSydney Smith was another illustration of\\nthe power of cheerfulness. He was ever\\nready to look on the bright side of things\\nthe darkest cloud had to him its silver lining.\\nWhether working as country curate or as\\nparish rector, he was always kind, laborious,\\npatient, and exemplary exhibiting in every\\nsphere of life the spirit of a Christian, the\\nkindness of a pastor, and the honor of a\\ngentleman. In his leisure he employed his\\npen on the side of justice, freedom, education,\\ntoleration, emancipation and his writings,\\nthough full of common sense and bright\\nhumor, are never vulgar; nor did he ever\\npander to popularity or prejudice.\\nHis good spirits, thanks to his iiatuta.1\\nvivacity and stamina of constitution, never\\nforsook him and in his old age, when borne\\ndown by disease, he wrote to a friend: I\\nhave gout, asthma, and seven other maladie.s,\\nbut am otherwise very well. In one of the\\nlast letters he wrote, he said: If you hear\\nof sixteen or eighteen pounds of flesh want-\\ning an owner, they belong to me. I look -^.s\\nif a curate had been taken out of me,\\nBlind, but not Gloomy.\\nGreat men of science have for the most\\npart been patient, laborious, cheerful -minded\\nmen. Such were Galileo, Descartes, ^Newton,\\nand Laplace. Euler, the mathematician, one\\nof the greatest of natural philosophers, was\\na distinguished instance. Towards the close\\nof his life he became completely blind; but\\nhe went on writing as cheerfully as beiore,\\nsupplying the want of sight by various inge-\\nnious mechanical devices, and by the increased\\ncultivation of his memory, which became\\nexceedingly tenacious. His chief pleasure\\nwas in the society of his grandchildren, to\\nwhom he taught their little lessons m the\\nintervals of his severer studies.\\nOne of the sorest trials of a man s temper\\nand patience was that which befell Abauzit,\\nthe natural philosopher, while residing at\\nGeneva resembling in many respects a\\nsimilar calamity which occurred to Newton,\\nand which he bore with equal resignation.\\nAmong other things, Abauzit devoted much\\nstudy to the barometer and its variations,\\nwith the object of deducing the general laws\\nwhich regulated atmospheric pressure. Dur-\\ning twenty-seven years he made numerous\\nobservations daily, recording them or sheets\\nprepared for the purpose.\\nOne day, when a new servant was mstalled\\nin the house, she immediately proceeded to\\ndisplay her zeal by putting things to rights.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0225.jp2"}, "226": {"fulltext": "190\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nAbauzit s study, among other rooms, was\\nmade tidy and set in order. When he entered\\nit, he asked of the servant, What have you\\ndone with the paper that was round the\\nbarometer? Oh, sir, was the reply, it\\nwas so dirty that I burnt it, and put in its\\nplace this paper, which you will see is quite\\nnew. Abauzit crossed his arms, and after\\nsome moments of internal struggle, he said,\\nin a tone of calmness and resignation You\\nhave destroyed the results of twenty-seven\\nyears labor; in future touch nothing what-\\never in this room.\\nLong-Lived Men.\\nThe study of natural history, more than\\nthat of any other branch of science, seems to\\nbe accompanied by unusual cheerfulness and\\nequanimity of temper on the part of its\\nvotaries; the result of which is, that the life\\nof naturalists is, on the whole, more pro-\\nlonged than that of any other class of men\\nof science. A member of the Linnsean\\nSociety has informed us that, of fourteen\\nmembers who died in 1870, two were over\\nninety, five were over eighty, and two were\\nover seventy. The average age of all the\\nmembers who died in that year was seventy-\\nfive.\\nAdanson, the French botanist, was about\\nseventy years old when the Revolution broke\\nout, and amidst the shock he lost every-\\nthing his fortune, his places, and his gar-\\ndens. But his patience, courage and resig-\\nnation never forsook him. He became re-\\nduced to the greatest straits, and even wanted\\nfood and clothing; yet his ardor of investi-\\ngation remained the same.\\nOnce, when the Institute invited him, as\\nbeing one of its oldest members, to assist at\\na seance, his answer was that he regretted he\\ncould not attend for want of shoes. It was\\na touching sight, says Cuvier, to see the\\npoor old man, bent over the embers of a\\ndecaying fire, trying to trace characters with\\na feeble hand on the little bit of paper which\\nhe held, forgetting all the pains of life in\\nsome new idea in natural history, which\\ncame to him like some beneficent fairy to\\ncheer him in his loneliness.\\nThe Government eventualy gave him a\\nsmall pension, which Napoleon doubled; and\\nat length easeful death came to his relief in\\nhis seventy-ninth year. A clause in his will,\\nas to the manner of his funeral, illustrates\\nthe character of the man. He directed that\\na garland of flowers, provided by fifty-eight\\nfamilies whom he had established in life,\\nshould be the only decoration of his coffin\\na slight but touching image of the more\\ndurable monument which he had erected for\\nhimself in his works.\\nAlways a Boy.\\nSuch are only a few instances of the\\ncheerful work of great men, which might,\\nindeed, be multiplied to any extent. All\\nlarge, healthy natures are cheerful as well\\nas hopeful. Their example is also contag-\\nious and diffusive, brightening and cheering\\nall who come within reach of their influence.\\nIt was said of Sir John Malcolm, when he\\nappeared in a saddened camp in India, that\\nit was like a gleam of sunlight; no man\\nleft him without a smile on his face. He\\nwas boy Malcolm still. It was impossible\\nto resist the fascination of his genial pres-\\nence.\\nAnd so it is that there are old young m_en,\\nand young old men some who are as joy-\\nous and cheerful as boys in their old age,\\nand others who are as morose and cheerless\\nas saddened old men while still in their boy-\\nhood.\\nThe true basis of cheerfulness is love, hope\\nand patience. Love evokes love, and begets.", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0226.jp2"}, "227": {"fulltext": "MERRY CHRISTMAS.\\n191", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0227.jp2"}, "228": {"fulltext": "192\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nloving-kindness. Love cherishes hopeful and\\ngenerous thoughts of others. It is charitable,\\ngentle and truthful. It is a discerner of\\ngood. It turns to the brightest side of\\nthings, and its face is ever directed towards\\nhappiness. It sees the glory in the grass,\\nthe sunshine on the flower. It encourages\\nhappy thoughts, and lives in an atmosphere\\nof cheerfulness. It costs nothing, and yet is\\ninvaluable; for it blesses its possessor, and\\ngrows up in abundant happiness in the\\nbosoms of others. Even its sorrows are\\nlinked with pleasures, and its very tears are\\nsweet.\\nGetting by Giving.\\nBentham lays it down as a principle, that\\na man becomes rich in his own stock of\\npleasures in proportion to the amount he\\ndistributes to others. His kindness will\\nevoke kindness, and his happiness be in-\\ncreased by his own benevolence.\\nKind words, he says, cost no more\\nthan unkind ones. Kind words produce\\nkind actions, not only on the part of him to\\nwhom they are addressed, but on the part\\nof him by whom they are employed; and\\nthis not incidentally only, but habitually, in\\nvirtue of the principle of association. It may,\\nindeed, happen that the effort of beneficence\\nmay not benefit those for whom it was in-\\ntended; but when wisely directed, it imist\\nbenefit the person from whom it emanates.\\nGood and friendly conduct may meet\\nwith an unworthy and ungrateful return\\nbut the absence of gratitude on the part of\\nthe receiver cannot destroy the self-approba-\\ntion which recompenses the giver, and we\\nmay scatter the seeds of courtesy and kind-\\nliness around us at so little expense. Some\\nof them will inevitably fall on good ground,\\nand grow up into benevolence in the minds\\nof others; and all of them will bear fruit of\\nhappiness in the bosom whence they spring.\\nOnce blest are all the virtues always twice\\nblest sometimes.\\nA well-known author tells a story of a\\nlittle girl, a great favorite with every one\\nwho knew her. Some one said to her,\\nWhy does everybody love you so much?\\nShe answered, I think it is because I love\\neverybody so much. This little story is\\ncapable of a very wide application; for our\\nhappiness as human beings, generally speak-\\ning, will be found to be very much in pro-\\nportion to the number of things we love, and\\nthe number of things that love us. And the\\ngreatest worldly success, however honestly\\nachieved, will contribute comparatively little\\nto happiness unless it be accompanied by a\\nlively benevolence towards every human\\nbeing.\\nAffording Pleasure to Others.\\nKindness is indeed a great power in the\\nworld. Leigh Hunt has truly said that\\nPower itself hath not one-half the might\\nof gentleness. Men are always best gov-\\nerned through their affections. More wasps\\nare caught by honey than by vinegar.\\nEvery act of kindness, says Bentham, is\\nin fact an exercise of power, and a stock of\\nfriendship laid up; and why should not\\npower exercise itself in the production of\\npleasure as of pain?\\nKindness does not consist in gifts, but in\\ngentleness and generosity of spirit. Men\\nmay give their money which comes from the\\npurse, and withhold their kindness which\\ncomes from the heart. The kindness that\\ndisplays itself in giving money does not\\namount to much, and often does quite as\\nmuch harm as good; but the kindness of\\ntrue sympathy, of thoughtful help, is never\\nwithout beneficient results.\\nThe good temper that displays itself in\\nI", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0228.jp2"}, "229": {"fulltext": "LOOKING ON THE BRIGHT SIDE.\\n193\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0kindness must not be confounded with soft-\\nness or silliness. In its best form, it is not a\\nmerely passive but an active condition of\\nbeing. It is not by any means indifferent,\\ntut largely sympathetic. It does not charac-\\nterize the lovv^est and most gelatinous forms\\nof human life, but those that are the most\\nhighly organized. True kindness cherishes\\nand actively promotes all reasonable instru-\\nmentalities for doing practical good in its own\\ntime; and, looking into futurity, sees the\\nsame spirit working on for the eventual ele-\\nvation and happiness of the race.\\nIt is the kindly-dispositioned men who are\\nthe active men of the world, while the selfish\\nand the skeptical, who have no love but for\\nthemselves, are its idlers. Buffon used to say\\nthat he would give nothing for a young man\\nwho did not begin life with an enthusiasm of\\nsome sort. It showed that at least he had\\nfaith in something good, lofty, and generous,\\neven if unattainable.\\nMaking a God of Self.\\nEgotism, skepticism, and selfishness are\\nalways miserable companions in life, and they\\nare especially unnatural in youth. The\\negotist is next door to a fanatic. Constantly\\noccupied with self, he has no thought to\\nspare for others. He refers to himself in all\\nthings, thinks of himself, and studies himself,\\nuntil his own little self becomes his own\\nlittle god.\\nWorst of all are the grumblers and growlers\\nat fortune who find that whatever is is\\nwrong, and will do nothing to set matters\\nright who declare all to be barren, from\\nDan even to Beersheba. These grumblers\\nare invariably found the least efficient helpers\\nin the school of life. The worst wheel of all\\nis the one that creaks.\\nThere is such a thing as the cherishing of\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2discontent until the feeling becomes morbid.\\nThe jaundiced see everything about them\\nyellow. The ill-conditioned think all things\\nawry, and the whole world out of joint. All\\nis vanity and vexation of spirit. Many full-\\ngrown people are morbidly unreasonable.\\nThere are those who may be said to enjoy\\nbad health; they regard it as a sort of prop-\\nerty. They can speak of my headache,\\nmy back-ache, and so forth, until, in course\\nof time, it becomes their most cherished\\npossession. But perhaps it is the source to\\nthem of much coveted sympathy, without\\nwhich they might find themselves of compara-\\ntively little importance in the world.\\nNursing our Troubles.\\nWe have to be on our guard against small\\ntroubles, which, by encouraging, we are apt\\nto magnify into great ones. Indeed, the\\nchief source of worry in the world is not real\\nbut imaginary evil small vexations and\\ntrivial afiflictions. In the presence of a great\\nsorrow, all petty troubles disappear but we\\nare too ready to take some cherished misery\\nto our bosom, and to pet it there. Very\\noften it is the child of our fancy; and, for-\\ngetful of the many means of happiness which\\nlie within our reach, we indulge this spoiled\\nchild of ours until it masters us.\\nWe shut the door against cheerfulness, and\\nsurround ourselves with gloom. The habit\\ngives a coloring to our life. We grow queru-\\nlous, moody, and unsympathetic. Our con-\\nversation becomes full of regrets. We are\\nharsh in our judgment of others. We are\\nunsociable, and think everybody else is so.\\nWe make our breast a storehouse of pain,\\nwhich we inflict upon ourselves as well as\\nupon others.\\nThis disposition is encouraged by selfish-\\nness indeed, it is, for the most part, selfish-\\nness unmingled, without any admixture of\\nsympathy or consideration for the feelings of", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0229.jp2"}, "230": {"fulltext": "194\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nthose about us. It is simply wilfulness in\\nthe wrong direction. It is willful, because it\\nmight be avoided. Let the necessitarians\\nargue as they may, freedom of will and action\\nis the possession of every man and woman.\\nIt is sometimes our glory, and very often it\\nis our shame all depends upon the manner\\nin which it is used.\\nWe can choose to look at the bright side\\nof things or at the dark. We can follow\\ngood and eschew evil thoughts. We can be\\nwrong-headed and wrong-hearted, or the\\nreverse, as we ourselves determine. The\\nworld will be to each one of us very much\\nwhat we make it. The cheerful are its real\\npossessors, for the world belongs to those\\nwho enjoy it.\\nA Miserable Jester.\\nIt must, however, be admitted that there\\nare cases beyond the reach of the moralist.\\nOnce, when a miserable-looking dyspeptic\\ncalled upon a leading physician, and laid his\\ncase before him, Oh! said the doctor,\\nyou only want a good hearty laugh: go\\nand see Grimaldi! Alas! said the mis-\\nerable patient, /am Grimaldi!\\nThe restless, anxious, dissatisfied temper,\\nthat is ever ready to run and meet care half-\\nway, is fatal to all happiness and peace of\\nmind. How often do we see men and\\nwomen encase themselves as if with chest-\\nnut-burrs, so that one dare scarcely approach\\nthem without fear of being pricked! For\\nwant of a little occasional command over\\none s temper, an amount of misery is occa-\\nsioned in society which is positively frightful.\\nThus enjoyment is turned into bitterness,\\nand life becomes like a journey barefooted\\namong thorns and briers and prickles.\\nThough sometimes small evils, says\\nRichard Sharp, like invisible insects, inflict\\ngreat pain, and a single hair may stop a vast\\nmachine, yet the chief secret of comfort lies\\nin not suffering trifles to vex us; and in\\nprudently cultivating an undergrowth of\\nsmall pleasures, since very few great ones^\\nalas are let on long leases.\\nSt. Francis de Sales treats the same topic\\nfrom the Christian s point of view. How\\ncarefully, he says, we should cherish the.\\nlittle virtues which spring up at the foot\\nof the Cross When the saint was asked,\\nWhat virtues do you mean? he replied:\\nHumility, patience, meekness, benignity,\\nbearing one another s burden, condescension,\\nsoftness of heart, cheerfulness, cordiality,\\ncompassion, forgiving injuries, simplicity,\\ncandor all, in short, of that sort of little\\nvirtues. They, like unobtrusive violets, love\\nthe shade; like them, are sustained by dew;\\nand though, like them, they make little show,\\nthey shed a sweet odor on all around.\\nRunning to Meet Trials.\\nMeeting evils by anticipation is not the\\nway to overcome them. If we perpetually\\ncarry our burdens about with us, they will\\nsoon bear us down under their load. When\\nevil comes, we must deal with it bravely and\\nhopefully. What Perthes wrote to a young\\nman, who seemed to him inclined to take\\ntrifles as well as sorrows too much to heart,\\nwas doubtless good advice: Go forward\\nwith hope and confidence. This is the advice\\ngiven thee by an old man, who has had a full\\nshare of the burden and heat of life s day.\\nWe must ever stand upright, happen what\\nmay, and for this end we must cheerfully\\nresign ourselves to the varied influences of\\nthis many-colored life.\\nYou may call this levity, and you are\\npartly right for flowers and colors are but\\ntrifles light as air but such levity is a con-\\nstituent portion of our human nature, without\\nwhich it would sink under the weight of time.", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0230.jp2"}, "231": {"fulltext": "LOOKING ON THE BRIGHT SIDE.\\n19\\nWhile on earth we must still play with earth,\\nand with that which blooms and fades upon\\nits breast. The consciousness of this mortal\\nlife being but the way to a higher goal by\\nno means precludes our playing with it\\ncheerfully; and, indeed, we must do so,\\notherwise our energy in action will entirely\\nfail.\\nNever Trouble Trouble.\\nMy good man is a clever man,\\nWhich no one will gainsay\\nHe lies awake to plot and plan\\nGainst lions in the way,\\nWhile I, without a thought of ill,\\nSleep sound enough for three\\nFor I never trouble trouble till\\nTrouble troubles me.\\nA holiday we never fix\\nBut he is sure twill rain,\\nAnd when the sky is clear at six\\nHe knows it won t remain.\\nHe s always prophesying ill,\\nTo which I won t agree,\\nFor I never trouble trouble till\\nTrouble troubles me.\\nThe wheat will never show a top\\nBut soon how green the field\\nWe will not harvest half a crop-\\nYet have a famous j ield\\nIt will not sell, it never will\\nBut I will wait and see,\\nFor I never trouble trouble till\\nTrouble troubles me.\\nHe has a sort of second sight.\\nAnd when the fit is strong,\\nHe sees beyond the good and right\\nThe evil and the wrong.\\nHeaven s cup of joy he ll surely spill\\nUnless I with him be.\\nFor I never trouble trouble till\\nTrouble troubles me.\\nGranted Wishes.\\nTwo little girls let loose from school\\nQueried what each would be.\\nOne said I d be a queen and rule\\nAnd one The world I d see.\\nThe years went on. Again they met.\\nAnd queried what had been\\nA poor man s wife am I, and yet,\\nSaid one I am a queen.\\nMy realm a happy household is,\\nMy king a husband true\\nI rule by loving services\\nHow has it been with you?\\nOne answered still the great world lies\\nBeyond me as it laid\\nO er love s and duty s boundaries\\nMy feet have never strayed.\\nFaint murmurs of the wide world come\\nUnheeded to my ear\\nMy widowed mother s sick bedroom\\nSufficeth for my sphere.\\nThey clasped each other s hands with tears\\nOf solemn joy they cried,\\nGod gave the wish of our young years,\\nAnd we are satisfied.\\nJ. G. Whittier.\\nLet your cheerfulness be felt for good\\nwherever you are, and let your smiles be\\nscattered like sunbeams on the just as well\\nas on the unjust. Such a disposition will\\nyield a rich reward, for its happy effects will\\ncome home to you and brighten your\\nmoments of thought.\\nIf your seat is hard to sit upon, stand up.\\nIf a rock rises up before you, roll it away,\\nor climb over it. If you want money, earn\\nit. It takes longer to skin an elephant than\\na mouse, but the skin is worth something.\\nIf you want confidence, prove yourself\\nworthy of it. Do not be content with\\ndoing what another has done surpass it.\\nDeserve success, and it will come.\\nThe boy was not born a man. The sun\\ndoes not rise like a rocket, or go down like\\na bullet fired from a gun slowly and surely\\nit makes it round, and never tires. It is as\\neasy to be a lead horse as a wheel horse.\\nIf the job be long, the pay will be greater;\\nif the task be hard, the more competent you\\nmust be to do it.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0231.jp2"}, "232": {"fulltext": "INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS.\\n196", "height": "3475", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0232.jp2"}, "233": {"fulltext": "CHAPT^KR XI.\\nINDUSTRY.\\nENJAMIN Franklin says, Sloth\\n1, makes all things difficult, but\\nindustry all easy. He that\\nriseth late must trot all day^\\nand shall scarcely overtake his\\nbusiness at night while laziness\\ntravels so slowly that poverty\\nsoon overtakes him. Franklin was a shin-\\ning illustration of industry overcoming\\npoverty and a humble position. He rose by\\nsteady work and perseverance. In giving\\nan account of his life he says, I will describe\\nmy first entrance into Philadelphia, that you\\nmay be able to compare beginnings so little\\nauspicious with the figure I have since made.\\nOn my arrival I was in my working dress,\\nmy best clothes being to come by sea. I was\\ncovered with dirt; my pockets were filled\\nwith shirts and stockings I was unacquainted\\nwith a single soul in the place, and knew not\\nwhere to seek a lodging. Fatigued with\\nwalking, rowing, and having passed the night\\nwithout sleep, I was extremely hungry and\\nall my money consisted of a Dutch dollar\\nand about a shilling s worth of coppers, which\\nI gave to the boatmen for my passage. As\\nI had assisted them in rowing, they refused\\nit at first, but I insisted on their taking it.\\nA man is sometimes more generous when he\\nhas little than when he has much money;\\nprobably because, in the first case, he is\\ndesirous of conceahng his poverty.\\nI walked towards the top of the street,\\nlooking eagerly on both sides, till I came to\\nMarket street, where I met with a child Avith\\na loaf of bread. Often had I made my dinner\\non dry bread. I inquired where he had\\nbought it, and went straight to the baker s-\\nshop, which he pointed out to me. I asked\\nfor some biscuits, expecting to find such as\\nwe had at Boston; but they made, it seems,\\nnone of that sort at Philadelphia. I then\\nasked for a threepenny loaf They made no\\nloaves of that price.\\nFinding myself ignorant of the prices as\\nwell as of the different kinds of bread, I de-\\nsired him to let me have threepenny-worth\\nof bread of some kind or other. He gave\\nme three large rolls. I was surprised at\\nreceiving so much: I took them, however,\\nand, having no room in my pockets, I walked\\non with a roll under each arm, eating a third.\\nIn this manner I went through Market street\\nto Fourth street, and passed the house of\\nMr. Read, the father of my future wife. She\\nw^s standing at the door, observed me, and\\nthought, with reason, that I made a very\\nsingular and grotesque appearance.\\nPoor but Generous.\\nI then turned the corner and went through\\nChestnut street, eating my roll all the way;\\nand, having made this round, I found myself\\nagain on Market street wharf, near the boat\\nin which I arrived. I stepped into it to take\\na draught of the river water; and, finding\\nmyself satisfied with my first roll, I gave the\\nother two to a woman and her child, who\\nhad come down with us in the boat, and was\\nwaiting to continue her journey.\\nThus refreshed, I regained the street.which\\nwas now full of well-dressed people, all going\\n197", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0233.jp2"}, "234": {"fulltext": "198\\nINDUSTRY.\\nthe same way. I joined them, and was thus\\nled to a large Quaker meeting-house near\\nthe market-place. I sat down with the rest,\\nand, after looking round me for some time,\\nhearing nothing said, and being drowsy from\\nmy last night s labor and want of rest, I fell\\ninto a sound sleep. In this state I continued\\ntill the assembly dispersed, when one of the\\ncongregation had the goodness to wake me.\\nThis was consequently the first house I\\nentered, or in which I slept, at Philadelphia.\\nThis was Franklin s first appearance in the\\ncity where his grave is now cherished as a\\nsacred spot. He was poor and friendless yet,\\nby perseverance and industry he placed him-\\nself at the tables of princes, and became a\\nchief pillar in the councils of his country.\\nThe simple journeyman, eating his roll in the\\nstreet, lived to become a philosopher and a\\nstatesman, and to command the respect of\\nhis country and of mankind. What a lesson\\nfor youth\\nIt has been said that no sword is too short\\nfor a brave man, for one step forward will\\nmake a short sword long enough. But few\\ntasks are too difficult for one who is indus-\\ntrious and persevering. Labor conquers\\nall things. If the task is difficult, work a\\nlittle harder.\\nOn the Delphian temple is the motto of\\nPeriander: Nothing is impossible to in-\\ndustry.\\nIf you have great talents, industry will\\nimprove them if moderate ability, industry\\n-will supply their deficiency. Nothing is\\ndenied to well-directed labor nothing is ever\\nto be attained without it.\\nBenefit of Industry.\\nHo, all who labor, all who strive\\nYe wield a lofty power\\nDo with your might, do with your strength,\\nFill every golden hour\\nThe glorious privilege to do\\nIs man s most noble dower.\\nO, to your birthright and yourselves.\\nTo your own souls be true\\nA weary, wretched life is theirs\\nWho have no work to do.\\nC. F Orne.\\nIncentives to Work.\\nToil, and be glad let Industry inspire\\nInto your quickened limbs her buoyant breath I\\nWho does not act is dead absorbed entire\\nIn miry sloth, no pride, no joy he hath\\nO leaden-hearted men, to be in love with death\\nAh what avail the largest gifts of Heaven,\\nWhen drooping health and spirits go amiss\\nHow tasteless then whatever can be given\\nHealth is the vital principle of bliss.\\nAnd exercise of health. In proof of this,\\nBehold the wretch who slugs his life away.\\nSoon swallowed in Disease s sad abyss,\\nWhile he whom Toil has braced, or manly play,\\nHas light as air each limb, each thought as clear as\\nday.\\nWork is the law of our being the living\\nprinciple that carries men and nations on-\\nward. The greater number of men have\\nto work with their hands, as a matter of\\nnecessity, in order to live; but all must work\\nin one way or another, if they would enjoy\\nlife as it ought to be enjoyed.\\nLabor may be a burden and a chastise-\\nment, but it is also an honor and a glory.\\nWithout it nothing can be accomplished.\\nAll that is great in man comes through\\nwork, and civilization is its product. Were\\nlabor abolished, the race of Adam were at\\nonce stricken by moral death.\\nIt is idleness that is the curse of man\\nnot labor. Idleness eats the heart out of\\nmen as of nations, and consumes them as\\nrust does iron. When Alexander conquered\\nthe Persians, and had an opportunity of\\nobserving their manners, he remarked that\\nthey did not seem conscious that there could\\nbe anything more servile than a life of\\npleasure, or more princely than a life of toil.", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0234.jp2"}, "235": {"fulltext": "THE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\n199\\nA close observer of men and things told\\nus the following little history, which we hope\\nwill plough very deeply into the attention of\\nall who plough very shallow in their soils.\\nTwo brothers settled together in the same\\ncounty; one of them on a cold, ugly, clay\\nsoil, covered with black-jack oak, not one\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0of which was large enough to make half a\\ndozen rails. This man would never drive\\nany but large, powerful Conastoga horses,\\nsome seventeen hands high. He always put\\nthree horses to a large plough, and plunged\\nit in some ten inches deep. This deep\\nploughing he invariably practiced, and culti-\\nvated thoroughly afterward. He raised his\\nseventy bushels of corn to an acre.\\nLand will not Work Itself.\\nThis man had a brother about six miles\\noff, settled on a rich White River bottom-\\nland farm; and while a black-jack clay soil\\nyielded seventy bushels to an acre, this fine\\nbottom-land would not average fifty. One\\nbrother was steadily growing rich on poor\\nland, and the other steadily growing poor\\non rich land. One day the bottom-land\\nbrother came down to see the black-jack\\noak farmer, and they began to talk about\\ntheir crops and farms, as farmers are very\\napt to do.\\nHow is it, said the first, that you\\nmanage on this poor soil to beat me in\\ncrops? The reply was, I work tny land!\\nThat was it exactly. Some men have such\\nrich land that they won t work it; and they\\nnever get a step beyond where they began.\\nThey rely on the soil, not on labor, or skill,\\nor care. Some men expect their lands to\\nwork, and some men expect to work their\\nlands; that is just the difference between a\\ngood and a bad farmer.\\nWhen we had written thus far, and read it\\nto our informant, he said, Three years ago\\nI traveled again through that section, and\\nthe only good farm I saw was this very one\\nof which you have just written. All the\\nothers were desolate fences down, cabins\\nabandoned, the settlers discouraged and\\nmoved off. I thought I saw the same\\nstable door, hanging by one hinge, that used\\nto disgust me ten years before; and I saw\\nno change, except for the worse, in the\\nwhole county, with the single exception of\\nthis one farm.\\nAn Emperor s Watch-Word.\\nWhen the Emperor Severus lay on his\\ndeath-bed at York, whither he had been\\nborne on a litter from the foot of the Gram-\\npians, his final watch-word to his soldiers\\nwas, we must work; and nothing but\\nconstant toil maintained the power and ex-\\ntended the authority of the Roman generals.\\nIn describing the earlier social condition\\nof Italy, when the ordinary occupations of\\nrural life were considered compatible with\\nthe highest civic dignity, Pliny speaks of the\\ntriumphant generals and their men returning\\ncontentedly to the plough. In those days\\nthe lands were tilled by the hands even of\\ngenerals, the soil exulting beneath a plough-\\nshare crowned with laurels, and guided by a\\nhusbandman graced with triumphs. It was\\nonly after slaves became extensively em-\\nployed in all departments of industry that\\nlabor came to be regarded as dishonorable\\nand servile. And so soon as indolence and\\nluxury became the characteristics of the\\nruling classes of Rome, the downfall of the\\nempire, sooner or later, was inevitable.\\nThere is, perhaps, no tendency of owi\\nnature that has to be more carefully guarded\\nagainst than indolence. An intelligent for-\\neigner who had travelled over the greater\\npart of the world, was asked whether he had\\nobserved any one quality which, more than", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0235.jp2"}, "236": {"fulltext": "200\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nanother, could be regarded as a universal\\ncharacteristic of our species, his answer was,\\nin broken English, Me tink dat all men\\nlove lazy. It is characteristic of the savage\\nas of the despot. It is natural to men to\\nendeavor to enjoy the products of labor\\nwithout its toils.\\nIndolence is equally degrading to indi-\\nviduals as to nations. Sloth never made its\\nmark in the world, and never will. Sloth\\nnever climbed a hill, nor overcame a difficulty\\nthat it could avoid. Indolence always failed\\nin life, and always will. It is in the nature\\nof things that it should not succeed in any-\\nthing. It is a burden, an incumbrance, and\\na nuisance always useless, complaining,\\nmelancholy, and miserable.\\nThe Mother of Mischief.\\nBurton, in his quaint and curious book\\nthe only one, Johnson says, that ever took\\nhim out of bed two hours sooner than he\\nwished to rise describes the causes of Mel-\\nancholy as hinging mainly on idleness.\\nIdleness, he says, is the bane of body\\nand mind, the nurse of naughtiness, the chief\\nmother of all mischief, one of the seven\\ndeadly sins, the devil s cushion, his pillow\\nand chief reposal. An idle dog will be\\nmangy and how shall an idle person\\nescape? Idleness of the mind is much worse\\nthan that of the body wit, without employ-\\nment, is a disease the rust of the soul, a\\nplague, a hell itself As in a standing pool,\\nworms and filthy creepers increase, so do evil\\nand corrupt thoughts in an idle person the\\nsoul is contaminated.\\nThus much I dare boldly say: he or she\\nthat is idle, be they of what condition they\\nwill, never so rich, so well allied, fortunate,\\nhappy let them have all things in abund-\\nance and felicity that heart can wish and\\ndesire, all contentment so long as he, or\\nshe, or they, are idle, they shall never be\\npleased, never well in body or mind, but\\nweary still, sickly still, vexed still, loathing\\nstill, weeping, sighing, grieving, suspecting^\\noffended with the world, with every object,\\nwishing themselves gone or dead, or else\\ncarried away with some foolish phantasie or\\nother.\\nEither Grain or Thistles.\\nBurton says a great deal more to the same\\neffect the burden and lesson of his book\\nbeing embodied in the pregnant sentence\\nwith which it winds up Only take this for\\na corollary and conclusion, as thou tenderest\\nthine own welfare in this, and all other mel-\\nancholy, thy good health of body and mind,\\nobserve this short precept. Give not way to\\nsolitariness and idleness. Be not solitary\\nbe not idle.\\nThe indolent, however, are not wholly\\nindolent. Though the body may shirk labor,,\\nthe brain is not idle. If it do not grow corn,,\\nit will grow thistles, which will be found\\nspringing up all along the idle man s course\\nin life. The ghosts of indolence rise up in\\nthe dark, ever staring the recreant in the face,\\nand tormenting him:\\nThe gods are just, and of our pleasant vices,.\\nMake instruments to scourge us.\\nTrue happiness is never found in torpor of\\nthe faculties, but in their action and useful\\nemployment. It is indolence that exhausts,,\\nnot action, in which there is life, health and\\npleasure. The spirits may be exhausted and\\nwearied by employment, but they are utterly\\nwasted by idleness. Hence a wise physician\\nwas accustomed to regard occupation as one\\nof his most valuable remedial measures.\\nNothing is so injurious, said Dr. Mar-\\nshall Hall, as unoccupied time. An arch-\\nbishop of Mayence used to say that the", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0236.jp2"}, "237": {"fulltext": "INDUSTRY.\\n201\\nhuman heart is Hke a millstone: if you put\\nwheat under it, it grinds the wheat into flour;\\nif you put no wheat, it grinds on, but then\\ntis itself it wears away.\\nLabor Song.\\nAh little they know of true happiness, they whom\\nsatiety fills,\\nWho, flung on the rich breast of luxury, eat of the\\nrankness that kills.\\nAh little they know of the blessedness toil-pur-\\nchased slumber enjoys\\nWho, stretched on the hard rack of indolence, taste\\nof the sleep that destroys\\nNothing to hope for, or labor for; nothing to sigh\\nfor, or gain\\nNothing to light in its vividness, lightning-like,\\nbosom and brain\\nNothing to break life s monotony, rippling it o er\\nwith its breath\\nNothing but dullness and lethargy, weariness, sor-\\nrow and death\\nBut blessed that child of humanity, happiest man\\namong men,\\nWho, with hammer or chisel or pencil, with rudder\\nor ploughshare or pen,\\nLaboreth ever and ever with hope through the\\nmorning of life,\\nWinning home and its darling divinities love-wor-\\nshipped children and wife.\\nRound swings the hammer of industry, quickly the\\nsharp chisel rings,\\nAnd the heart of the toiler has throbbings that stir\\nnot the bosom of kings\\nHe the true ruler and conqueror, he the true king of\\nhis race.\\nWho nerveth his arm for life s combat, and looks\\nthe strong world in the face.\\nDknis Florence MacCarthy.\\nIndolence is usually full of excuses; and\\nthe sluggard, though unwilling to work, is\\noften an active sophist. There is a lion in\\nthe path; or The hill is hard to climb;\\nor There is no use trying I have tried,\\nand failed, and cannot do it.\\nTo the sophistries of such an excuser, a\\nfriend once wrote to a young man: My\\nattack upon your indolence, loss of time,\\netc., was most serious, and I really think\\nthat it can be to nothing but your habitual\\nwant of exertion that can be ascribed your\\nusing such curious arguments as you do in\\nyour defense. Your theory is this: Every\\nman does all the good that he can. If a\\nparticular individual does no good, it is a\\nproof that he is incapable of doing it. That\\nyou don t write proves that you can t; and\\nyour want of inclination demonstrates your\\nwant of talents. What an admirable system!\\nand what beneficial effects would it be\\nattended with if it were but universally re-\\nceived\\nEffort and Enjoyment.\\nIt has been truly said that to desire to pos-\\nsess without being burdened with the trouble\\nof acquiring is as much a sign of weakness,\\nas to recognize that everything worth having\\nis only to be got by paying its price is the\\nprime secret of practical strength. Even\\nleisure cannot be enjoyed unless it is won by\\neffort. If it have not been earned by work,\\nthe price has not been paid for it.\\nLife must needs be disgusting alike to the\\nidle rich man as to the idle poor man, who\\nhas no work to do, or, having work, will not\\ndo it. The words found tatooed on the right\\narm of a sentimental beggar of forty, under-\\ngoing his eighth imprisonment in the jail of\\nBourges in France, might be adopted as the\\nmotto of all idlers The past has deceived\\nme; the present torments me; the future\\nterrifies me.\\nThe duty of industry applies to all classes\\nand conditions of society. All have their\\nwork to do in their respective conditions of\\nlife the rich as well as the poor. No right-\\nminded man can be satisfied with being fed,\\nclad, and maintained by the labor of others,\\nwithout making some suitable return to the", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0237.jp2"}, "238": {"fulltext": "202\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nsociety that upholds him. An honest, high-\\nminded man would revolt at the idea of\\nsitting down to and enjoying a feast, and then\\ngoing away without paying his share of the\\nreckoning. To be idle and useless is neither\\nan honor nor a privilege and though per-\\nsons of small natures may be content merely\\nto consume men of average endowment, of\\nmanly aspirations, and of honest purpose, will\\nfeel such a condition to be incompatible with\\nreal honor and true dignity.\\nI don t believe, says a close observer,\\nthat an unemployed man, however amiable\\nand otherwise respectable, ever was, or ever\\ncan be, really happy. As work is our life,\\nshow me what you can do, and I will show\\nyou what you are. I have spoken of love of\\none s work as the best preventive of merely\\nlow and vicious tastes. I will go farther, and\\nsay that it is the best preservative against\\npetty anxieties, and the annoyances that arise\\nout of indulged self-love.\\nSomething you cannot Shirk.\\nMen have thought before now that they\\ncould take refuge from trouble and vexation\\nby sheltering themselves, as it were, in a\\nworld of their own. The experiment has\\noften been tried, and always with one result.\\nYou cannot escape from anxiety and labor\\nit is the destiny of humanity. Those who\\nshirk from facing trouble find that trouble\\ncomes to them. The indolent may contrive\\nthat he shall have less than his share of the\\nworld s work to do, but nature, proportioning\\nthe instinct to the work, contrives that the\\nlittle shall be much and hard to him.\\nThe man who has only himself to please\\nfinds, sooner or later, and probably sooner\\nthan later, that he has got a very hard mas-\\nter; and the excessive weakness which\\nshrinks from responsibility has its own\\npunishment too, for where great interests\\nare excluded little matters become great,\\nand the same wear and tear of mind that\\nmight have been at least usefully and health-\\nfully expended on the real business of life is\\noften wasted in petty and imaginary vexa-\\ntions, such as breed and multiply in the\\nunoccupied brain.\\nEven on the lowest ground that of per-\\nsonal enjoyment constant useful occupation\\nis necessary. He who labors not cannot\\nenjoy the reward of labor, We sleep\\nsound, said Sir Walter Scott, and our\\nwaking hours are happy, when they are\\nemployed; and a little sense of toil is\\nnecessary to the enjoyment of leisure, even\\nwhen earned by study and sanctioned by\\ntb discharge of duty.\\nWork Hurts Nobody.\\nIt is true, there are men who die of over-\\nwork; but many more die of selfishness,\\nindulgence and idleness. Where men break\\ndown by overwork, it is most commonly\\nfrom want of duly ordering their lives, and\\nneglect of the ordinary conditions of physical\\nhealth. We doubt whether hard work,\\nsteadily and regularly carried on, ever yet\\nhurt anybody.\\nThen, again, length of years is no proper\\ntest of length oif life. A man s life is to be\\nmeasured by what he does in it, and what he\\nfeels in it. The more useful work the man\\ndoes, and the more he thinks and feels, the\\nmore he really lives. The idle, useless man,\\nno matter to what extent his life may be pro-\\nlonged, merely vegetates.\\nThe early teachers of Christianity ennobled\\nthe lot of toil by their example. He that\\nwill not work, said the Apostle Paul,\\nneither shall he eat; and he glorified him-\\nself in that he had labored with his hands,\\nand had not been chargeable to any man.\\nWhen St. Boniface landed in Britain, he came", "height": "3479", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0238.jp2"}, "239": {"fulltext": "INDUSTRY.\\n203\\nwith a Gospel in one hand and a carpenter s\\nrule in the other; and from England he\\nafterwards passed over into Germany, carry-\\ning thither the art of building. Luther also,\\nin the midst of a multitude of other employ-\\nments, worked diligently for a living, earning\\nhis bread by gardening, building, turning,\\nand even clock-making.\\nWriting to an abbot at Nuremberg, who\\nhad sent him a store of turning-tools, Luther\\nsaid: I have made considerable progress in\\nclock-making, and I am very much delighted\\nat it, for these drunken Saxons need to be\\nconstantly reminded of what the real time is\\nnot that they themselves care much about\\nit, for as long as their glasses are kept filled,\\nthey trouble themselves very little as to\\nwhether clocks, or clock-makers, or the time\\nitself, go right.\\nA Saying of Napoleon.\\nIt was characteristic of Napoleon, when\\n-visiting a work of mechanical excellence, to\\npay great respect to the inventor, and, on\\ntaking his leave, to salute him with a low\\nhow. Once at St. Helena, when walking\\nwith a lady, some servants came along carry-\\ning a load. The lady, in an angry tone,\\nordered them out of the w^ay, on which Na-\\npoleon interposed, saying, Respect the\\nburden, madam. Even the drudgery of the\\nhumblest laborer contributes towards the\\ngeneral well-being of society and it was a\\nwise saying of a Chinese emperor that if\\nthere was a man who did not work, or a\\nwoman that was idle, somebody must suffer\\ncold or hunger in the empire.\\nThe habit of constant useful occupation is\\nas essential for the happiness and well-being\\nof woman as of man. Without it women are\\napt to sink into a state of listless languor and\\nuselessness, accompanied by sick-headache\\nand attacks of nerves.\\nExamples of Labor.\\nSweet wind, fair wind, where have you been?\\nI ve been sweeping the cobwebs out of the Sky\\nI ve been grinding a grist in the mill hard by;\\nI ve been laughing at work while others sigh\\nLet those laugh who win\\nSweet rain, soft rain, what are you doing?\\nI m urging the corn to fill out its cells\\nI m helping the lily to fashion its bells\\nI m swelling the torrent and brimming the wells\\nIs that worth pursuing?\\nRedbreast, redbreast, what have you done\\nI ve been watching the nest where my fledgelings\\nlie;\\nI ve sung them to sleep with a lullaby\\nBy and by I shall teach them to fly,\\nUp and away, every one\\nHoney-bee, honey-bee, where are you going?\\nTj fill my basket with precious pelf\\nTo coil for my neighbor as well as myself;\\nTo find out the sweetest flower that grows,\\nBe it a thistle or be it a rose\\nA secret worth the knowing\\nEach content with the work to be done,\\nEver the same from sun to sun\\nShall you and I be taught to work\\nBy the bee and the bird, that scorn to shirk\\nWind and rain fulfilling His word\\nTell me, was ever a legend heard\\nWhere the wind, commanded to blow, deferred\\nOr the rain, that was bidden to fall, demurred?\\nMary N. Prescott.\\nConstant useful occupation is wholesome,\\nnot only for the body, but for the mind.\\nWhile the slothful man drags himself indo-\\nlently through life, and the better part of his\\nnature sleeps a deep sleep, if not morally and\\nspiritually dead, the energetic man is a source\\nof activity and enjoyment to all who come\\nwithin reach of his influence. Even any\\nordinary drudgery is better than idleness.\\nFuller says of Sir Francis Drake, who\\nwas early sent to sea, and kept close to his\\nwork by his master, that such pains and\\npatience in his youth knit the joints of his", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0239.jp2"}, "240": {"fulltext": "204\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nsoul, and made them more solid and com-\\npact. Schiller used to say that he con-\\nsidered it a great advantage to be employed\\nin the discharge of some daily mechanical\\nduty some regular routine of work, that\\nrendered steady application necessary.\\nThe Labor of Doing Nothing.\\nThousands can bear testimony to the\\ntruth of the saying of Greuze, the French\\npainter, that work employment, useful occu-\\npation is one of the great secrets of happi-\\nness. Casaubon was once induced by the\\nentreaties of his friends to take a few days\\nentire rest, but he returned to his work with\\nthe remark, that it was easier to bear illness\\ndoing something than doing nothing.\\nWhen Charles Lamb was released for\\nhfe from his daily drudgery of desk-work at\\nthe India Office, he felt himself the happiest\\nof men. I would not go back to my\\nprison, he said to a friend, ten years longer\\nfor ten thousand pounds. He also wrote\\nin the same ecstatic mood to Bernard Barton\\nI have scarce steadiness of head to compose\\na letter, he said; lam free! free as air!\\nI will live another fifty years. Would\\nI could sell you some of my leisure Posi-\\ntively the best thing a man can do is\\nnothing; and next to that, perhaps, good\\nworks.\\nTwo years two long and tedious years\\npassed; and Charles Lamb s feelings had\\nundergone an entire change. He now dis-\\ncovered that official, even humdrum work\\nthe appointed round, the daily task had\\nbeen good for him, though he knew it not.\\nTime had formerly been his friend it had\\nnow become his enemy.\\nTo Bernard Barton he again wrote I\\nassure you, no work is worse than overwork\\nthe mind preys on itself the most unwhole-\\nsome of food. I have ceased to care for\\nalmost anything. Never did the waters of\\nheaven pour down upon a forlorner head.\\nWhat I can do, and overdo, is to walk.\\nI am a sanguinary murderer of time.\\nNo man could be more sensible of the\\npractical importance of industry than Sir\\nWalter Scott, who was himself one of the\\nmost laborious and indefatigable of men.\\nIndeed, Lockhart says of him that, taking\\nall ages and countries together, the rare\\nexample of indefatigable energy, in union\\nwith serene self-possession of mind and\\nmanner, such as Scott s, must be sought for\\nin the roll of great sovereigns or great\\ncaptains, rather than in that of literary\\ngenius.\\nYou must Put in the Plow.\\nScott himself was most anxious to impress\\nupon the minds of his own children the im-\\nportance of industry as a means of usefulness\\nand happiness in the world. To his son\\nCharles, when at school, he wrote I can-\\nnot too much impress upon your mind that\\nlabor is the condition which God has imposed\\non us in every station of life there is nothing\\nworth having that can be had without it, from\\nthe bread which the peasant wins with the\\nsweat of his brow to the sports by which the\\nrich man must get rid of his languor. As\\nfor knowledge, it can no more be planted in\\nthe human mind without labor than a field\\nof wheat can be produced without the pre-\\nvious use of the plough.\\nThere is, indeed, this great difference,,\\nthat chance or circumstance may so cause it\\nthat another shall reap what the farmer sows\\nbut no man can be deprived, whether by\\naccident or misfortune, of the fruits of his\\nown studies and the liberal and extended\\nacquisitions of knowledge which he makes\\nare all for his own use. Labor, therefore,\\nmy dear boy, and improve the time. In", "height": "3497", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0240.jp2"}, "241": {"fulltext": "I NDUSTRY.\\n205\\nyouth our steps are light, and our minds are\\nductile, and knowledge is easily laid up but\\nif we neglect our spring, our summers will\\nbe useless and contemptible, our harvest will\\nbe chaff, and the winter of our old age unre-\\nspected and desolate.\\nSouthey was as laborious a worker as\\nScott. Indeed, work might almost be said\\nto form part of his reHgion. He was only\\nnineteen when he wrote these words Nine-\\nteen years certainly a fourth part of my\\nlife perhaps how great a part and yet I\\nhave been of no service to society. The\\nclown who scares crows for twopence a day\\nis a more useful man he preserves the bread\\nwhich I eat in idleness.\\nAnd yet Southey had not been idle as a\\nboy on the contrary, he had been a most\\ndiligent student. He had not only read\\nlargely in English literature, but was well\\nacquainted, through translations, with Tasso,\\nAriosto, Homer, and Ovid. He felt, how-\\never, as if his life had been purposeless, and\\nhe determined to do something. He began,\\nand from that time forward he pursued an\\nunremitting career of literary labor down to\\nthe close of his life daily progressing in\\nlearning, to use his own words not so\\nlearned as he is poor, not so poor as proud,\\nnot so proud as happy.\\nThe Laborer.\\nStand up erect Thou hast the form\\nAnd likeness of thy God who more\\nA soul as dauntless mid the storm\\nOf daily life, a heart as warm\\nAnd pure as breast e er wore.\\nWhat then Thou art as true a man\\nAs moves the human mass among\\nAs much a part of the great plan,\\nThat with creation s dawn began,\\nAs any of the throng.\\nWho is thine enemy the high\\nIn station, or in wealth the chief?\\nThe great, who coldly pass thee by,\\nWith proud step and averted eye\\nNay nurse not such belief.\\nIf true unto thyself thou wast,\\nWhat were the proud one s scorn to thee\\nA feather which thou mightest cast\\nAside, as idly as the blast\\nThe light leaf from the tree.\\nNo uncurbed passions, low desires.\\nAbsence of noble self-respect,\\nDeath, in the breast s consuming fires.\\nTo that high nature which aspires\\nForever, till thus checked.\\nThese are thine enemies thy worst\\nThey chain thee to thy lowly lot\\nThy labor and thy life accursed.\\nOh, stand erect and from them burst\\nAnd longer suffer not\\nThou art thyself thine enemy\\nThe great what better they than thou?\\nAs theirs, is not thy will as free?\\nHas God with equal favors thee\\nNeglected to endow\\nTrue, wealth thou hast not tis but dust\\nNor place uncertain as the wind\\nBut that thou hast, which, with thy crust\\nAnd water, may despise the lust\\nOf both a noble mind\\nWith this, and passions under ban.\\nTrue faith, and holy trust in God,\\nThou art the peer of any man.\\nLook up, then, that thy little span\\nOf life may be well trod\\nWilliam D. Gai,i,agher.\\nThe maxims of men often reveal their\\ncharacter. That of Sir Walter Scott was,\\nNever to be doing nothing. Robertson,\\nthe historian, as early as his fifteenth year,\\nadopted the maxim, Life without learning\\nis death. Voltaire s motto was, Always at\\nwork. When Bossuet was at college, he\\nwas so distinguished by his ardor in study,\\nthat his fellow-students, playing upon his\\nname, designated him as The ox used to\\nthe plough.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0241.jp2"}, "242": {"fulltext": "206\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nWe have spoken of work as a discipline\\nit is also an educator of character. Even\\nwork that produces no results, because it is\\nwork, is better than torpor inasmuch as it\\neducates faculty, and is thus preparatory to\\nsuccessful work. The habit of working\\nteaches method. It compels economy of\\ntime, and the disposition of it with judicious\\nforethought. And when the art of packing\\nlife with useful occupations is once acquired\\nby practice, every minute will be turned to\\naccount; and leisure, when it comes, will be\\nenjoyed with all the greater zest.\\nIt is because application to business teaches\\nmethod most effectually, that it is so useful\\nas an educator of character. The highest\\nworking qualities are best trained by active\\nand sympathetic contact with others in the\\naffairs of daily life. It does not matter\\nwhether the business relate to the manage-\\nment of a household or of a nation.\\nThe Business W^oman.\\nIndeed, the able housewife must necessarily\\nbe an efficient woman of business. She must\\nregulate and control the details of her home,\\nkeep her expenditure within her means,\\narrange everything according to plan and\\nsystem, and wisely manage and govern\\nthose subject to her rule. Efficient domes-\\ntic management implies industry, application,\\nmethod, moral discipline, forethought, pru-\\ndence, practical ability, insight into character\\nand power of organization all of which are\\nrequired in the efficient management of busi-\\nness of whatever sort.\\nBusiness qualities have, indeed, a very\\nlarge field of action. They mean aptitude\\nfor affairs, competency to deal successfully\\nwith the practical work of life whether the\\nspur of action lie in domestic management,\\nin the conduct of a profession, in trade or\\ncommerce, in social organization, or in\\npolitical government. And the training\\nwhich gives efficiency in dealing with these\\nvarious affairs is of all others the most useful\\nin practical life. Moreover, it is the best\\ndiscipline of character; for it involves the\\nexercise of diligence, attention, self-denial,\\njudgment, tact, knowledge of and sympathy\\nwith others.\\nThe Best Ability,\\nSuch a discipline is far more productive of\\nhappiness, as well as useful efficiency in life,\\nthan any amount of literary culture or medi-\\ntative seclusion; for in the long run it will\\nusually be found that practical ability carries\\nit over intellect, and temper and habits over\\ntalent. It must, however, be added that this\\nis a kind of culture that can only be acquired\\nby diligent observation and carefully improved\\nexperience. To be a good blacksmith,\\nsays a well-known author, one must have\\nforged all his life to be a good administra-\\ntor, one should have passed his whole life in\\nthe study and practice of business.\\nThe great commander leaves nothing to\\nchance, but provides for every contingency.\\nHe condescends to apparently trivial details.\\nThus, when Wellington was at the head of\\nhis army in Spain, he directed the precise\\nmanner in which the soldiers were to cook\\ntheir provisions. When in India, he specified\\nthe exact speed at which the bullocks were\\nto be driven; every detail in equipment was\\ncarefully arranged beforehand. And thus\\nnot only was efficiency secured, but the\\ndevotion of his men, and their boundless\\nconfidence in his command.\\nWashington, also, was an indefatigable\\nman of business. From his boyhood he\\ndiligently trained himself in habits of appli-\\ncation, of study, and of methodical work.\\nHis manuscript school-books, which are\\nstill preserved, show that, as early as the age", "height": "3477", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0242.jp2"}, "243": {"fulltext": "INDUSTRY.\\n207\\nof thirteen, he occupied himself voluntarily\\nin copying out such things as forms of\\nreceipts, notes of hand, bills of exchange,\\nbonds, indentures, leases, land-warrants, and\\nother dry documents, all written out with\\ngreat care. And the habits which he thus\\nearly acquired were, in a great measure, the\\nfoundation of those admirable business quali-\\nties which he afterwards so successfully\\nbrought to bear in the affairs of govern-\\nment.\\nThe man or woman who achieves success\\nin the management of any great affair of\\nbusiness is entitled to honor it may be, to\\nas much as the artist who paints a picture,\\nor the author who writes a book, or the\\nsoldier who wins a battle. Their success\\nmay have been gained in the face of as great\\ndifficulties, and after as great struggles and\\nwhile they have won their battle, it is at least\\na peaceful one, and there is no blood on their\\nhands.\\nThe Men who Rule.\\nPower belongs only to the workers the\\nidlers are always powerless. It is the\\nlaborious and painstaking men who are the\\nrulers of the world. There has not been a\\nstatesman of eminence but was a man of\\nindustry. It is by toil, said even Louis\\nXIV., that kings govern. When Claren-\\ndon. described Hampden, he spoke of him as\\nof an industry and vigilance not to be tired\\nout or wearied by the most laborious, and of\\nparts not to be imposed on by the most\\nsubtle and sharp, and of a personal courage\\nequal to his best parts.\\nIndeed, this living principle of constant\\nwork, of abundant occupation, of practical\\ncontact with men in the affairs of life, has in\\nall times been the best ripener of the ener-\\ngetic vitality of strong natures. Business\\nhabits, cultivated and disciplined, are found\\nalike useful in every pursuit whether in\\npolitics, literature, science, or art. Thus,\\na great deal of the best literary work has\\nbeen done by men systematically trained in\\nbusiness pursuits. The same industry,\\napplication, economy of time and labor,\\nwhich have rendered them useful in the one\\nsphere of employment, have been found\\nequally available in the other.\\nThe Dignity of Labor.\\nLabor is life Tis the still water faileth\\nIdleness ever despaireth, bewaileth\\nKeep the watch wound, for the dark rust assaileth\\nFlowers droop and die in the stillness of noon.\\nLabor is glorj the flying cloud lightens\\nOnlj^ the waving wing changes and brightens\\nIdle hearts only the dark future frightens\\nPlay the sweet keys, wouldst thou keep them in\\ntune\\nLabor is rest from the sorrows that greet us,\\nRest from all petty vexations that meet us,\\nRest from sin-promptings that ever entreat us.\\nRest from world-sirens that lure us to ill.\\nWork and pure slumbers shall wait on thy pillow\\nWork thou shalt ride over care s coming billow\\nLie not down wearied neath woe s weeping willow t\\nWork with a stout heart and resolute will\\nLabor is health Lo the husbandman reaping.\\nHow through his veins goes the life-current leaping\\nHow his strong arm in its stalwart pride sweeping,\\nTrue as a sunbeam the swift sickle guides.\\nLabor is wealth in the sea the pearl groweth\\nRich the queen s robe from the frail cocoon floweth\\nFrom the fine acorn the strong forest bloweth\\nTemple and statue the marble block hides.\\nDroop not, though shame, sin and anguish are round\\nthee;\\nBravely fling off the cold chain that hath bound thee\\nLook to yon pure heaven smiling beyond thee\\nRest not content in thy darkness\u00e2\u0080\u0094 a clod\\nWork for some good, be it ever so slowly\\nCherish some flower, be it ever so lowly\\nLabor all labor is noble and holy\\nLet thy great deeds be thy prayer to thy God.\\nFrances Sargent Osgood.\\nMen of trained working faculty so con-\\ntract the habit of labor that idleness becomes", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0243.jp2"}, "244": {"fulltext": "208\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nintolerable to them; and when driven by-\\ncircumstances from their own special line\\nof occupation, they find refuge in other\\npursuits. The diligent man is quick to find\\nemployment for his leisure; and he is able\\nto make leisure when the idle man finds\\nnone. Thus many great things have been\\ndone during such vacant times of leisure,\\nby men to whom industry had become a\\nsecond nature, and who found it easier to\\nwork than to be idle.\\nRespectable Hobbies.\\nEven hobbies are useful as educators of\\nthe working faculty. Hobbies evoke in-\\ndustry of a certain kind, and at least provide\\nagreeable occupation. Not such hobbies as\\nthat of Domitian, who occupied himself in\\ncatching flies. The hobbies of the King of\\nMacedon, who made lanterns, and of the\\nKing of France, who made locks, were of\\n.1 more respectable order. Even a routine\\nmechanical employment is felt to be a relief\\nby minds acting under high pressure it is\\nan intermission of labor a rest a relaxa-\\ntion, the pleasure consisting in the work\\nitself rather than in the result.\\nGenius may be brilliant, may shine as stars\\nof the first magnitude do, but history points\\nto the fact that men of the most commanding\\nabilities have yet been the most persevering\\nworkers. Daniel Webster was a man of\\ntowering intellect, but never trusted to his\\nsuperior powers. Labor was his strong right\\nhand. One who knew him well said he did\\nnot doubt but others could have written and\\nspoken as well if they had labored as hard\\nand diligently. Most of his speeches were\\nthe result of long and laborious preparation,\\nand he succeeded as much by honest toil as\\nby his native gifts, although these were of\\nthe highest order. He was a great statesman\\nbecause he was a great worker.\\nThe Coral-Insect.\\nToil on toil on ye ephemeral train.\\nWho build in the tossing and treacherous main\\nToil on for the wisdom of man ye mock,\\nWith your sand-based structures and domes of rock\\nYour columns the fathomless fountains lave,\\nAnd your arches spring up to the crested wave\\nYe re a puny race, thus to boldly rear\\nA fabric so vast, in a realm so drear.\\nYe bind the deep with your secret zone.\\nThe ocean is sealed, and the surge a stone\\nFresh wreaths from the coral pavement spring,\\nLike the terraced pride of Assyria s king\\nThe turf looks green where the breakers rolled\\nO er the whirlpool ripens the rind of gold\\nThe sea-snatched isle is the home of men,\\nAnd the mountains exult where the wave hath been.\\nBut why do ye plant neath the billows dark\\nThe wrecking reef for the gallant bark\\nThere are snares enough on the tented field,\\nMid the blossomed sweets that the valleys yield\\nThere are serpents to coil, ere the flowers are up\\nThere s a poison-drop in man s purest cup\\nThere are foes that watch for his cradle breath\\nAnd why need you sow the floods with death\\nWith mouldering bones the deeps are white.\\nFrom the ice-clad pole to the tropics bright\\nThe mermaid hath twisted her fingers cold\\nWith the mesh of the sea-boy s curls of gold,\\nAnd the gods of ocean have frowned to see\\nThe mariner s bed in their halls of glee\\nHath earth no graves, that ye thus must spread\\nThe boundless sea for the thronging dead\\nYe build ye build but ye enter not in,\\nLike the tribes whom the desert devoured in their sin\\nFrom the land of promise ye fade and die,\\nEre its verdure gleams forth on your weary eye\\nAs the kings of the cloud-crowned pyramid,\\nTheir noteless bones in oblivion hid,\\nYe slumber unmarked mid the desolate main,\\nWhile the wonder and pride of your works remain.\\nLydia Huntley Sigourney.\\nA noble heart, says Barrow, will dis-\\ndain to subsist, like a drone, upon others\\nlabors like a vermin, to filch its food out of\\nthe public granary or, like a shark, to prey\\nupon the lesser fry; but it will rather outdo\\nhis private obligations to other men s care", "height": "3479", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0244.jp2"}, "245": {"fulltext": "INDUSTRY.\\n209\\nand toil, by considerable service and benefi-\\ncence to the public for there is no calling of\\nany sort, from the sceptre to the spade, the\\nmanagement whereof, with any good suc-\\ncess, any credit, any satisfaction, doth not\\ndemand much work of the head, or of the\\nhands, or of both.\\nLabor is not only a necessity, but it is also\\na pleasure. What would otherwise be a\\ncurse, by the constitution of our physical\\nsystem becomes a blessing. Our life is a\\nconflict with nature in some respects, but it is\\nalso a co-operation with nature in others.\\nThe sun, the air, and the earth are con-\\nstantly abstracting from us our vital forces.\\nHence we eat and drink for nourishment, and\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0clothe ourselves for warmth.\\nWe Do not Work Alone.\\nNature works with us. She provides the\\nearth which we furrow she grows and\\nripens the seeds that we sow and gather.\\nShe furnishes, with the help of human labor,\\nthe wool that we spin and the food that we\\neat. And it ought never to be forgotten\\nthat, however rich or poor we may be, all\\nthat we eat, all that we are clothed with, all\\nthat shelters us, from the palace to the cot-\\ntage, is the result of labor.\\nMen co-operate with each other for the\\nmutual sustenance of all. The husbandman\\ntills the ground and provides food the\\nmanufacturer weaves tissues, which the tailor\\nand a seamstress make into clothes the\\nmason and the bricklayer build the houses\\nin which we enjoy household Hfe. Numbers\\nof workmen thus contribute and help to\\ncreate the general result.\\nLabor and skill applied to the vulgarest\\nthings invest them at once with precious\\nvalue. Labor is indeed the life of humanity\\ntake it away, banish it, and the race of Adam\\nAvere at once stricken with death. He that\\n14\\nwill not work, said St. Paul, neither shall\\nhe eat; and the justice of this judgment\\ncannot be called in question. No one will\\nresent it except the lazy do-nothings.\\nThere is a well-known story of an old\\nfarmer calling his three idle sons around him\\nwhen on his death-bed, to impart to them\\nan important secret. My sons, said he,\\na great treasure lies hid in the estate which\\nI am about to leave to you. The old man\\ngasped. Where is it hid? exclaimed the\\nsons in a breath. I am about to tell you,\\nsaid the old man you will have to dig for\\nit But his breath failed him before he\\ncould impart the weighty secret, and he\\ndied. Forthwith the sons set to work with\\nspade and mattock upon the long-neglected\\nfields, and they turned up every sod and clod\\nupon the estate. They discovered no treasure,\\nbut they learned to work and when the fields\\nwere sown, and the harvest came, lo! the\\nyield was prodigious, in consequence of the\\nthorough tillage which they had undergone.\\nThen it was that they discovered the treasure\\nconcealed in the estate, of which their wise\\nold father had advised them.\\nHonor to the Workers.\\nLabor is at once a burden, a chastisement,\\nan honor, and a pleasure. It may be identi-\\nfied with poverty, but there is also glory in\\nit. It bears witness, at the same time, to\\nour natural wants and to our manifold needs.\\nWhat were man, what were life, what were\\ncivilization, without labor All that is great\\nin man comes of labor greatness in art, in\\nliterature, in science. Knowledge the\\nwing wherewith we fly to heaven is only\\nacquired through labor. Genius is but a\\ncapability of laboring intensely it is the\\npower of making great and sustained efforts.\\nLabor may be a chastisement, but it is indeed\\na glorious one. It is worship, duty, praise,", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0245.jp2"}, "246": {"fulltext": "210\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nand immortality for those who labor with\\nthe highest aims and for the purest purposes.\\nLearn to Sweep.\\nOnce in a city s crowded street,\\nWith broom in hand an urchin stood\\nNo boots inclosed the little feet,\\nThough winter chilled the infant blood;\\nAnd }-et he worked, the little man,\\nAs only youthful heroes can.\\nAnd as he toiled he cheerful sang\\nThe noblest oak was once a seed,\\nThe choicest flower was but a weed,\\nUnpinioned once the eaglet s wing.\\nThe river but a trickling spring,\\nThe swiftest foot must learn to creep,\\nThe proudest man must learn to sweep.\\nAnon some passing idlers sought\\nThe sweeper from his toil to shame,\\nTo scorn the noble worker s thought,\\nAnd quench the young aspiring flame\\nNo answer gave the hero back.\\nBut to and fro he whisked the broom,\\nAnd shouted as he cleared the track,\\nThe noblest oak was once a seed.\\nThe choicest flower was but a weed,\\nUnpinioned once the eaglet s wing.\\nThe river but a trickling spring,\\nThe swiftest foot must learn to creep.\\nThe proudest man must learn to sweep.\\nH. S. Brooks.\\nThere are many who murmur and com-\\nplain at the law of labor under which we\\nlive, without reflecting that obedience to it is\\nnot only in conformity with the Divine will,\\nbut also necessary for the development of\\nintelligence, 3,nd for the thorough enjoyment\\nof our common nature. Of all wretched\\nmen, surely the idle are the most so those\\nwhose life is barren of utility, who have\\nnothing to do except to gratify their senses.\\nAre not such men the most querulous,\\nmiserable and dissatisfied of all, constantly\\nin a state of languor, alike useless to them-\\nselves and to others mere cumberers of the\\nearth, who, when removed, are missed by\\nnone, and whom none regret? Most wretched\\nand ignoble lot, indeed, is the lot of the\\nidlers.\\nWho have helped the world onward so\\nmuch as the workers; men who have had\\nto work from necessity or from choice? All\\nthat we call progress civilization, well-being\\nand prosperity depends upon industry, dili-\\ngently applied from the culture of a barley-\\nstalk to the construction of a steamship;\\nfrom the stitching of a collar to the sculptur-\\ning of the statue that enchants the world.\\nRepeated Efforts.\\nAH useful and beautiful thoughts, in like\\nmanner, are the issue of labor, of study, of\\nobservation, of research, of diligent elabora-\\ntion. The noblest poem cannot be elabo-\\nrated, and send down its undying strains\\ninto the future, without .steady and painstak-\\ning labor. No great work has ever been\\ndone at a heat. It is the result of re-\\npeated efforts, and often of many failures.\\nOne generation begins, and another continues\\nthe present coperating with the past. Thus,\\nthe Parthenon began with a mud-hut; the\\nLast Judgment with a few scratches on\\nthe sand. It is the same with individuals of\\nthe race: they begin with abortive eflbrts,\\nwhich, by means of perseverance, lead to\\nsuccessful issues.\\nThe history of industry is uniform in the\\ncharacter of its illustrations. Industry en-\\nables the poorest man to achieve honor, if\\nnot distinction. The greatest names in the\\nhistory of art, literature and science are those\\nof laboring men. A working instrument-\\nmaker gave us the steam-engine; a barber,\\nthe spinning-machine; a weaver, the mule;\\na pitman perfected the locomotive; and\\nworking-men of all grades have, one after\\nanother, added to the triumphs of mechanical\\nskill.\\nBy the working-man we do not mean\\nI", "height": "3497", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0246.jp2"}, "247": {"fulltext": "INDUSTRY.\\n211\\nmerely the man who labors with his muscles\\nand sinews. A horse can do this. But he\\nis pre-eminently the working-man who works\\nwith his brain also, and whose whole physical\\nsystem is under the influence of his higher\\nfaculties. The man who paints a picture,\\nwho writes a book, who makes a law, who\\ncreates a poem, is a working-man of the\\nhighest order not so necessary to the\\nphysical sustainment of the community as\\nthe plowman or the shepherd, but not less\\nimportant as providing for society its highest\\nintellectual nourishment and leading it on-\\nward and upward.\\nYOUR MISSION.\\nI\\nIf you cannot on the ocean\\nSail among the swiftest fleet,\\nRocking on the highest billows,\\nLaughing at the storms you meet,\\nYou can stand among the sailors,\\nAnchored yet within the bay,\\nYou can lend a hand to help them,\\nAs they launch their boats away.\\nIf you are too weak to journey,\\nUp the mountain steep and high,\\nYou can stand within the valley,\\nWhile the multitudes go by.\\nYou can chant in happy measure.\\nAs they slowly pass along\\nThough they may forget the singer,\\nThey will not forget the song.\\nIf you have not gold and silver\\nEver ready to command.\\nIf you cannot towards the needy\\nReach an ever open hand,\\nYou can visit the afflicted,\\nO er the erring you can weep,\\nYou can be a true disciple,\\nSitting at the Saviour s feet.\\nIf you cannot in the conflict,\\nProve yourself a soldier true.\\nIf where fire and smoke are thickest.\\nThere s no work for you to do,\\nWhen the battle-field is silent.\\nYou can go with careful tread.\\nYou can bear away the wounded,\\nYou can cover up the dead.\\nDo not then stand idly waiting\\nFor some greater work to do.\\nFortune is a lazy goddess,\\nShe will never come to you.\\nGo and toil in any vineyard,\\nDo not fear to do or dare.\\nIf j ou want a field of labor,\\nYou can find it anywhere.\\nOt^.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0247.jp2"}, "248": {"fulltext": "212", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0248.jp2"}, "249": {"fulltext": "CHAPTER XII.\\nHONESTY.\\nN honest man s the noblest\\nwork of God: so says\\nAlexander Pope. Honesty\\nis the best poHcy so says\\nBen Franklin. If a man\\nreally thinks that there is no\\ndistinction between virtue and vice, when he\\nleaves our houses let us count our spoons\\nso says Ben Johnson. Make yourself an\\nhonest man, and then you may be sure there\\nis one less rascal in the world so says\\nThomas Carlyle.\\nEvery Egyptian was required by law\\nannually to declare by what means he main-\\ntained himself, and if he omitted to do so or\\ngave no satisfactory account of his way of\\nliving, he was punishable with death. This\\nlaw Solon brought from Egypt to Athens,\\nwhere it was inviolably observed as a most\\nequitable regulation. If this law were en-\\nacted in our own country a good many would\\npack up and emigrate.\\nA gentleman jumping from an omnibus in\\nthe city of New York, dropped his pocket-\\nbook, and had gone some distance before he\\ndiscovered his loss then hastily returning,\\ninquired of eveiy passenger whom he met, if\\na pocket-book had been seen.\\nFinally, meeting a little girl ten years old,\\nto whom he made the same inquiry, she\\nasked: What kind of a pocket-book?\\nHe described it then unfolding her apron\\nIs this it? Yes, that is mine; come\\ninto this store with me. They entered, he\\nopened the book, counted the notes, and\\nexamined the papers. They are all right,\\nsaid he fifteen notes of a thousand dollars\\neach. Had they fallen into other hands,\\nI might never have seen them again. Take,\\nthen, my little girl, this note of a thousand\\ndollars, as a reward for your honesty, and a\\nlesson to me to be more careful in future.\\nNo, said the girl, I cannot take it.\\nI have been taught at Sunday school not to\\nkeep what is not mine, and my parents would\\nnot be pleased if I took the note home they\\nmight suppose I had stolen it. Well\u00e2\u0080\u009e\\nthen, my girl, show me where your parents\\nlive.\\nA Bountiful Gift.\\nThe girl took him to a humble tenement\\nin an obscure street, rude but cleanly. He\\ninformed the parents of the case. They told\\nhim their child had acted correctly. They\\nwere poor, it was true, but their pastor had\\nalways told them not to set their hearts on\\nrich gifts. The gentleman told them they\\nmust take it, and he was convinced they\\nwould make a good use of it, from the princi-\\nple they had professed.\\nThe pious parents then blessed their bene-\\nfactor, for such he proved. They paid theij\\ndebts, which had disturbed their peace, and\\nthe benevolent giver furnished the husband\\nand father employment in his occupation as\\na carpenter, enabling him to rear an indus\\ntrious family in comparative happiness. This\\nlittle girl became the wife of a respectable\\ntradesman of New York, and had reason to\\nrejoice that she was taught aright in early\\nlife and practiced what she learned.\\n213", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0249.jp2"}, "250": {"fulltext": "214\\nHONESTY.\\nA nobleman traveling in Scotland, a few\\nyears ago, was asked for alms in the high\\nstreet of Edinburgh by a little ragged boy.\\nHe said he had no change upon which the\\niboy offered to procure it. His lordship, in\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0order to get rid of his importunity, gave him\\na piece of silver, which the boy conceiving\\nwas to be changed, ran off for the purpose.\\nOn his return, not finding his benefactor,\\nwhom he expected to wait, he watched for\\nseveral days in the place where he had\\nreceived the money. At length the noble-\\nman happened again to pass that way. The\\nboy accosted him, and put the change he\\nhad procured into his hand, counting it with\\ngreat exactness. His lordship was so pleased\\nwith the boy s honesty that he placed him at\\nschool, with the assurance of providing for\\nhim.\\nTaken at his Word.\\nA young man had volunteered, and was\\nexpecting daily to be ordered to the seat of\\nwar. One day his mother gave him an\\nunpaid bill with money, and asked him to\\npay it. When he returned home at night\\nshe said Did you pay that bill Yes,\\nhe answered. In a few days the bill was\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0sent in a second time. I thought, she\\n;said to her son, that you paid this. I\\n(really don t remember, mother you know\\nI ve had so many things on my mind.\\nBut you said you did. Well, he\\nanswered, if I said I did, I did.\\nHe went away, and his mother took the\\nbill herself to the shop. The young man\\nhad been in the town all his life, and what\\nopinion v/as held of him this will show. I\\nam quite sure, she said, that my son paid\\nthis some days ago. He has been very busy\\nsince, and has quite forgotten about it but\\nhe told me that day he had, and says if he\\nsaid then that he had, he is quite sure he\\ndid. Well, said the man, I forget about\\nit; but if he ever said he did, he did.\\nWasn t that a grand character to have?\\nAn Honest Man.\\nTrust payeth homage unto truth, rewarding honesty\\nof action\\nAnd all men love to lean on him, who never failed\\nnor fainted.\\nFreedom gloweth in his eyes, and nobleness of nature\\nat his heart,\\nAnd Independence took a crown and fixed it on his\\nhead;\\nSo he stood in his integrity, just and firm of pur-\\npose.\\nAiding many, fearing none, a spectacle to angels and\\nto men\\nYea, when the shattered globe shall rock in the\\nthroes of dissolution,\\nStill will he stand in his integrity, sublime an\\nhonest man.\\nM. F. TUPPER.\\nThe first step toward greatness is to be\\nhonest, says the proverb but the proverb\\nfails to state the case strong enough. Hon-\\nesty is not only the first step toward great-\\nness it is greatness itself.\\nIt is with honesty in one particular as\\nwith wealth those that have the thing care\\nless about the credit of it than those that\\nhave it not. What passes as open-faced\\nhonesty is often masked malignity. He\\nwho says there is no such thing as an honest\\nman, you may be sure, is himself a knave.\\nWhen any one complains, as Diogenes did,\\nthat he has to hunt the street with candles at\\nnoon-day to find an honest man, we are apt\\nto think that his nearest neighbor would\\nhave quite as much difficulty as himself in\\nmaking the discovery. If you think there\\nisn t an honest man living, you had better,\\nfor appearance sake, put off saying it until\\nyou are dead yourself.\\nHonesty is the best policy, but those who\\ndo honest things merely because they think\\nit good policy, are not honest. No man has\\nI", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0250.jp2"}, "251": {"fulltext": "THE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\n215\\never been too honest. Cicero believed that\\nnothing is useful that is not honest. He\\nthat walketh uprightly, Vi^alketh surely but\\nhe that perverteth his ways shall be known.\\nThere is an alchemy in a high heart which\\ntransmutes other things to its own quality.\\nThe truth of the good old maxim, that\\nHonesty is the best policy, is upheld by\\nthe daily experience of life uprightness and\\nintegrity being found as successful in busi-\\nness as in everything else. As Hugh Mil-\\nler s worthy uncle used to advise him, In\\nall your dealings with your neighbor treat\\nhim generously good measure, heaped up,\\nand running over and you will not lose\\nby it in the end.\\nThe Road to Fortune.\\nHonesty is the best policy. But no man\\ncan be upright, amid the various temptations\\nof life, unless he is honest for the right s\\nsake. You should not be honest from the\\nlow motive of policy, but because you feel\\nthe better for being honest. The latter will\\nhold you fast, let the element set as it will,\\nlet storms blow ever so fiercely the former\\nis but a cable of pack-thread, which will\\nsnap apart. In the long run, character is\\nbetter than capital.\\nkMost of the great American merchants,\\nwhose revenues outrank those of princes,\\nowe their colossal fortunes principally to a\\ncharacter for integrity and ability. Lay the\\nfoundations of a character broad and deep.\\nBuild them on a rock, and not on sand.\\nThe rains may then descend, the floods rise\\nand the winds blow, but your house will\\nstand. But, establish a character for loose\\ndealings, and lo some great tempest will\\nsweep it away.\\nThe religious tradesman complains that\\nhis honesty is a hindrance to his success\\nthat the tide of custom pours into the doors\\nof his less scrupulous neighbors in the same\\nstreet, while he himself waits for hours idle.\\nDo you think that God is going to reward\\nhonor, integrity and highmindedness with\\nthis world s coin? Do you fancy that he\\nwill pay spiritual excellence with plenty of\\ncustom\\nNow consider the price that man has paid\\nfor his success. Perhaps mental degradation\\nand inward dishonor. His advertisements\\nare all deceptive his treatment of his work-\\nmen tyranical his cheap prices made pos-\\nsible by inferior articles. Sow that man s\\nseed, and you will reap that man s harvest.\\nCheat, lie, advertise, be unscrupulous in your\\nassertions, custom will come to you but if\\nthe price is too dear, let him have his har-\\nvest, and take yours. Yours is a clear con-\\nscience, a pure mind, rectitude within and\\nwithout. Will you part with that for his\\nThen why do you complain He has paid\\nhis price you do not choose to pay it.\\nThe Ship will go to Pieces.\\nSome, in their passion for sudden accumu-\\nlation, practice secret frauds, and imagine\\nthere is no harm in it, so they be not de-\\ntected. But in vain will they cover up their\\ntransgressions; for God sees it to the bot-\\ntom; and let them not hope to keep it always\\nfrom man. The birds of the air sometimes\\ncarry the tale abroad. In the long web of\\nevents, Be sure your sin will find you out.\\nHe who is carrying on a course of latent\\ncorruption and dishonesty, be he president\\nof some mammoth corporation, or engaged\\nonly in private transactions, is sailing in a\\nship Hke that fabled one of old, which ever\\ncomes nearer and nearer to a magnetic moun-\\ntain, that will at last draw every nail out of\\nit. All faith in God, and all trust in man,\\nwill eventually be lost, and he will get no re-\\nward for his guilt. The very winds will sigh", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0251.jp2"}, "252": {"fulltext": "216\\nHONESTY.\\nforth his iniquity; and a beam will come\\nout of the wall, and convict and smite him.\\nStrict honesty is the crown of one s early\\ndays. Your son will not do for me, was\\nonce said to a friend of mine he took\\npains, the other day, to tell a customer of\\na small blemish in a piece of goods. The\\nsalesboy is sometimes virtually taught to\\ndeclare that goods cost such or such a sum\\nthat they are strong, fashionable, perfect,\\nwhen the whole story is false. So is the\\nbloom of a God-inspired truthfulness not\\nseldom brushed from the cheek of our\\nsimple-hearted children.\\nWe hope and trust these cases are rare\\nbut even one such house as we allude to\\nmay ruin the integrity and the fair fame of\\nmany a lad. God grant our young men to\\nfeel that an honest man is the noblest work\\nof God, and, under all temptations, to live\\nas they feel.\\nCannot Stand the Trial.\\nThe possession of the principle of honesty\\nis a matter known most intimately to the\\nman and his God, and fully only to the\\nlatter. No man knows the extent and\\nstrength of his own honesty until he has\\npassed the fiery ordeal of temptation.\\nMen who shudder at the dishonesty of\\nothers, at one time in life, then sailing before\\nthe favorable wind of prosperity, when ad-\\nversity overtakes them, their honesty too\\noften flies away on the same wings with\\ntheir riches, and, what they once viewed\\nwith holy horror, they now practice with\\nshameless impunity.\\nOthers, at the commencement of a pros-\\nperous career, are quite above any tricks in\\ntrade but their love of money increases\\nwith their wealth, their honesty relaxes, they\\nbecome hard honest men, then hardly honest,\\nand are, finally, confirmed in dishonesty.\\nOn the great day of account, it will be\\nfound that men have erred more in judging\\nof the honesty of others than in any one\\nthing else; not even religion excepted.\\nMany who have been condemned, and had\\nthe stigma of dishonesty fixed upon them,\\nbecause misfortune disabled them from pay-\\ning their just debts, will stand acquitted by\\nthe Judge of quick and dead, whilst others\\ncover dishonest hearts and actions, undetected\\nby man.\\nA False Motto.\\nIt is our earnest desire to eradicate the\\nimpression, so fatal to many a young roan,\\nthat one cannot live by being perfectly honest.\\nYou must have known men who have gone\\non for years in unbroken prosperity and yet\\nnever adopted that base motto, All is fair in\\ntrade. You must have seen, too, noble\\nexamples of those who have met with losses\\nand failures, and yet risen from them all with\\na conscious integrity, and who have been\\nsustained by the testimony of all around\\nthem, that, though unfortunate, they were\\nnever dishonest? When we set before you\\nsuch examples, when we show you, not only\\nthat Honesty is the best policy, but that\\nit is the very keystone of the whole arch of\\nmanly and Christian qualities, every sincere\\nheart must respond to the appeal.\\nMany beautiful incidents of this virtue are\\nrelated, and the following will be likely to\\ninterest every reader One evening a poor\\nman and his son, a little boy, sat by the\\nwayside near the gate of an old town in\\nGermany. The father took out a loaf of\\nbread which he had bought in the town, and\\nbroke it, and gave half to his boy.\\nNot so, father, said the boy; I shall\\nnot eat until after you. You have been\\nworking hard all day, for small wages, to\\nsupport me and you must be very hungry", "height": "3480", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0252.jp2"}, "253": {"fulltext": "THE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\n217\\nI shall wait till you have done. You\\nspeak kindly, my son, replied the pleased\\nfather; your love to me does me more\\ngood than my food; and those eyes of yours\\nremind me of your dear mother who has left\\nus, who told you to love me as you used to\\ndo and indeed, my boy, you have been a\\ngreat strength and comfort to me but now\\nthat I have eaten the first morsel to please\\nyou, it is your turn now to eat.\\nThank you, father but break this piece\\nin two, and take you a little more, for you\\nsee the loaf is not large, and you require\\nmuch more than I do. I shall divide the\\nloaf for you, my boy but eat it I shall not\\nI have abundance and let us thank God for\\nhis great goodness in giving us food, and in\\ngiving us what is better still, cheerful and\\ncontented hearts. He who gave us the liv-\\ning bread from heaven, to nourish our\\nimmortal souls, how shall he not give us all\\nother food which is necessaiy to support our\\nmortal bodies?\\nThe Loaf was Loaded.\\nThe father and son thanked God, and\\nthen began to cut the loaf in pieces, to begin\\ntheir frugal meal. But as they cut one por-\\ntion of the loaf, there fell out several large\\npieces of gold of great value. The little boy\\ngave a shout of joy, and was springing for-\\nward to grasp the unexpected treasure, when\\nhe was pulled back by his father My son,\\nmy son he cried, do not touch that\\nmoney it is not ours. But whose is it,\\nfather, if it is not ours I know not, as\\nyet, to whom it belongs but probably it was\\nput there by the baker through some mis-\\ntake. We must inquire run. But,\\nfather, interrupted the boy, you are poor\\nand needy, and you have bought the loaf,\\nand the baker may tell a lie, and\\nI will not listen to you, my boy. I\\nbought the loaf, but I did not buy the gold\\nin it. If the baker sold it to me in ignorance,,\\nI shall not be so dishonest as to take advan-\\ntage of him. Remember him who told us to\\ndo to others as we would have others to do\\nto us. The baker may possibly cheat us.\\nI am poor, indeed, but that is no sin. If wc\\nshare the poverty of Jesus, God s own Son,\\noh let us share, also, his goodness and his\\ntrust in God. We may never be rich, but\\nwe may always be honest. We may die of\\nstarvation, but God s will be done, should we\\ndie in doing it Yes, my boy, trust God,\\nand walk in his ways, and you shall never\\nbe put to shame Now run to the baker,\\nand bring him here, and I shall watch the\\ngold until he comes.\\nThe Honestest Man in Town.\\nSo the boy ran for the baker. Brother\\nworkman, said the old man, you have\\nmade some mistake, and almost lost your\\nmoney and he showed the baker the gold,,\\nand told him how it had been found. Is it\\nthine? asked the father if it is, take it\\naway. My father, baker, is very poor,\\nand Silence, my child; put me not\\nto shame by thy complaints. I am glad we\\nhave saved this man from losing his money.\\nThe baker had been gazing alternately\\nupon the honest father and his eager boy,,\\nand upon the gold which lay glittering upon\\nthe green turf Thou art indeed an honest\\nfellow, said the baker and my neighbor\\nDavid, the flax-dresser, spoke but the truth\\nwhen he said thou wert the honestest man\\nin our town. Now I shall tell thee about\\nthe gold. A stranger came to my shop\\nthree days ago, and gave it me to sell it\\ncheaply, or give it away, to the honestest\\npoor man whom I knew in the city. I told\\nDavid to send thee to me, as a customer,\\nthis morning and as thou wouldst not take", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0253.jp2"}, "254": {"fulltext": "THE FIRST WRONG ACT.", "height": "3481", "width": "2534", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0254.jp2"}, "255": {"fulltext": "THE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\n219\\nthe loaf for nothing, I sold it to thee, as thou\\nknowest, for the last pence in thy purse;\\nand the loaf, with all its treasure and,\\nsurely, it is not small is thine, and God\\ngrant thee a blessing with it!\\nThe poor father bent his head to the\\nground, while the tears fell from his eyes.\\nHis boy ran and put his hand about his neck,\\nand said, I shall always, like you, my\\nfather, trust God, and do what is right for\\nI am sure it will never put me to shame.\\nSelling Honesty.\\nYet there be others, that will truckle to a lie, selling\\nhonesty for interest\\nAnd do they gain They gain but loss a little\\ncash, with scorn.\\nBehold the sorrowful change wrought upon a fallen\\nnature\\nHe hath lost his own esteem and other men s\\nrespect\\nFor the buoyancy of upright faith, he is clothed in\\nthe heaviness of cringing.\\nFor plain truth, where none could err, he hath\\nchosen tortuous paths\\nIn lieu of his majesty of countenance, the timorous\\nglances of servility,\\nInstead of Freedom s honest pride, the spirit of a\\nslave.\\nM. F. TuppER.\\nIn early life Dr. Adam Clarke was placed\\nwith a Mr. Bennet, a linen merchant of Cole-\\nraine, in the north of Ireland. In his auto-\\nbiography the doctor remarks, when speaking\\nof the business in which he was engaged,\\nhe thought he saw several things in it that\\nhe could hardly do with a clear conscience.\\nIt would, perhaps, not be uninteresting to\\nknow what were these several things.\\nOne of them was as follows Mr. Bennet\\nand Mr. Clarke were one day engaged in\\npreparing the linen for the great market in\\nDublin, measuring how many yards there\\nwere in each piece, Adam laying hold of one\\nend and Mr. Bennet of the other. They\\nfound that one piece wanted a couple of\\ninches to make a complete yard at the end.\\nCome, Adam, says Mr. Bennet, lay hold\\nof the piece and pull against me, and we\\nshall soon make it come up to the yard.\\nAlas he little knew whom he had to deal\\nwith.\\nHis Conscience would not Stretch.\\nAdam dropped the linen on the ground,\\nstood and looked like one counfounded.\\nWhat s the matter? said Mr. Bennet.\\nSir, says he, I can t do it I think it is a\\nwrong thing. Nonsense, says Mr. Ben-\\nnet, it is done every day it won t make\\nthe hnen a bit the worse the process it has\\npassed through has made it shrink a little.\\nCome, take hold. No, says he, no.\\nMr. Bennet was a very placid man, and they\\nentered into a dispute about this piece of\\nlinen, until, at last, he was obliged to give it\\nup it was a lost case Adam would not\\nconsent to meddle with it he thought it was\\nnot fair at least it did not suit the standard\\nof his conscience. Thus early exemplifying\\nthat scrupulous honesty for which he was\\nduring life remarkable. He afterward became\\ncelebrated for his Commentaries on the Bible.\\nSome years ago, two aged men near Mar-\\nshalton traded, or, according to Virginia par-\\nlance, swapped horses on this condition:\\nthat on that day week, the one who thought\\nhe had the best of the bargain should pay\\nto the other two bushels of wheat. The day\\ncame, and, as luck would have it, they met\\nabout half way between their respective\\nhomes. Where art thou going? said one.\\nTo thy house with the wheat, answered\\nthe other. And whither art thou riding?\\nTruly, replied the first, I was taking the\\nwheat to thy house. Each, pleased with\\nhis bargain, had thought the wheat justly\\ndue to his neighbor, and was going to pay it.\\nThe Prince of Conti being highly pleased", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0255.jp2"}, "256": {"fulltext": "220\\nHONESTY.\\nwith the intrepid behavior of a grenadier at\\nthe siege of Phillipsburgh in 1734, threw\\nhim his purse, excusing the smallness of the\\nsum it contained as being too poor a reward\\nfor his courage. Next morning the grena-\\ndier went to the prince with a couple of\\ndiamond rings and other jewels of consider-\\nable value. Sir, said he, the gold I found\\nin your purse I suppose your highness in-\\ntended for me; but these I bring back to you\\nas having no claim on them. You have,\\nsoldier, answered the prince, doubly de-\\nserved them by your bravery and by your\\nhonesty; therefore they are yours.\\nMaking Money Fast.\\nAn honest young man has in his bosom a\\ntreasure of more real value than the wealth\\nof nations. Should I be asked, what would\\nmost contribute to a man s success, in any\\nvocation whatever, I would reply: Honesty.\\nShould I be asked what would most certainly\\nprevent success, I would reply: Dishonesty.\\nNow it occurs, that to dishonest practices,\\nthe young men of our land are particularly\\nexposed. While females are protected from\\nthe temptations to this sin, while from the\\npeculiarity of their situation in society, they\\nare to a considerable extent secure, young men\\nare surrounded with inducements and temp-\\ntations. Just commencing life, they wish to\\ndo well, and not unfrequently imagine, that\\nto succeed they must make money fast, and\\nget rich quick, and hence to secure this, will\\nembark in many a scheme of doubtful char-\\nacter.\\nThe expenses of poor young men are\\ngenerally more than equal to their income,\\nand if they are bent on living extravagantly,\\nthey will be tempted to enter into many a\\ncourse of folly and crime to obtain the neces-\\nsary funds. But however expert the dishon-\\nest man may be, however long he may go\\non uninterrupted in his villany, however\\nsuccessful he may be at the onset, he will\\nassuredly fail.\\nThe forger cannot long continue that sin\\nwithout detection the counterfeiter will as-\\nsuredly be taken in his own snare; the\\ngambler will come to poverty, and the thief\\nwill bring himself to the prison and the\\ndungeon. There is no safety for a young\\nman in the early period of life, without strict\\nand unbending integrity in word and deed.\\nComplete failure will sooner or later, come\\nupon every man who does not subscribe to\\nthe principles of rectitude. I know that\\ndishonesty is prevalent. I know that it\\nexists everywhere, and to a fearful extent\\nenters into all the affairs of life. As Shakes-\\npeare says:\\nTo be honest, as this world goes,\\nIs to be one picked out of ten thousand.\\nVery Dear Success.\\nNot seldom is the clerk taught to inform\\nthe customer, that certain goods cost such a\\nsum, that they are durable and fashionable,\\nwhen he knows it to be false. Not seldom\\nis the ignorance of the purchaser made the\\ncause of a good trade, and apprentices are\\nled to look upon such a fraud as a harmless\\ntransaction. In these and a thousand other\\nways are the principles of honesty shame-\\nfully violated and outraged, and the basis is\\nlaid for a long and aggravated course of\\ncrime and duplicity. But the old maxim,\\nhonesty is the best poHcy, will be found\\nto be true in all the transactions of life.\\nWhat though a man does make a mo-\\nmentary advance in his business by dis-\\nhonesty? What though at the end of each\\nyear he is a hundred dollars richer than he-\\nwould have been but for his fraud? What\\nthough he may have enlarged his store, and\\nbeautified his residence, and secured the", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0256.jp2"}, "257": {"fulltext": "THE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\n221\\nsmiles of the wealthy? What though he\\nis enabled to ride in his carriage, and dress\\nin gilt and gold? Will not the vengeance\\nof God follow him? Will not his ill-gotten\\ngains rust and canker his heart? Will not\\ncommercial distress or some other element\\nof destruction sweep away his property,\\ntaking the well-earned with the ill-gotten?\\nI knew a young man who started in life\\nwith high hopes and prospects. He had a\\nlittle property to commence with, and was\\ndetermined that it should increase at all\\nhazard. Honestly or dishonestly, he was\\nbound to be rich. His motto was, All is\\nright in trade, and well did he carry it out.\\nHe thought it was the duty of his customers\\nto find out the defects in the goods which\\nthey purchased of him they were the ones\\nto discover what was bad in the bargain.\\nHe supposed he was clear when he had\\nmade the sale, and felt compelled by no\\nprinciple of morality to help his customers\\nmake good bargains.\\nLike a Clap of Thunder.\\nThus it continued awhile. He would\\nopenly boast of having made this sum and\\nthat sum, from this and that person. He\\nseemed to be growing rich, his place of busi-\\nness was crowded. His fair stories and\\nsmooth looks drew a crowd of visitors, and\\nfor awhile he made money very rapidly.\\nWhen he least expected it, a great failure in\\nanother city occurred, the intelligence of\\nwhich came upon him hke a clap of thunder\\non a cloudless day. Other failures followed,\\nand he began to reap the reward of his dis-\\nhonesty.\\nWhen he began to sink, reports of his\\ndishonesty, which until then had been\\nhushed, spread hke wild-fire, and soon he\\nfound it impossible to continue his business.\\nThose who had money and goods were\\nafraid of him. Confidence in his character\\nwas gone, and he was obliged to relinquish\\nbusiness entirely, move from the fine house\\nin which he lived, and become a clerk, and\\nwas looked upon with suspicion even at that.\\nI have known other men in business who\\nhave met with disasters and failures, and\\nhave stood unaffected by them, superior to\\ntheir crushing influence, from the simple fact\\nthat they were honest men, and could look\\ncommunity in the face with a consciousness\\nthat though they were unfortunate, they were\\nnot guilty.\\nYou can Trust Him.\\nThompson, in his lectures to young men,\\nstates the following fact: The president of\\nthe old United States Bank, once dismissed\\na private clerk, because the latter refused to\\nwrite for him on the Sabbath. The young\\nman, with a mother dependent on his exer-\\ntions, was thus thrown out of employment,\\nby what some would call an over-nice\\nscruple of conscience. But a few days after,\\nwhen the President was requested to nomi-\\nnate a cashier for another bank, he recom-\\nmended this very individual, mentioning this\\nincident as a sufficient testimony to his trust-\\nworthiness. You can trust him, said he,\\nfor he would not work for me on the Sab-\\nbath.\\nAwhile since, a young man was dismissed\\nfrom his place, because he would not become\\nparty to a falsehood, by which refusal the\\nfirm failed to secure several hundred dollars\\nwhich did not belong to them, but which\\nthey expected to obtain. For the crime of\\nhonesty and truth the young man was dis-\\nmissed from his position. A few days after-\\nwards, hearing of a vacant situation, he\\nappHed for it.\\nThe merchant who wished him for an\\naccountant, asked if he could refer him to", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0257.jp2"}, "258": {"fulltext": "222\\nHONESTY.\\nany individual by whom he was known, and\\nwho would recommend him as an upright\\nyoung man. With conscious innocence, and\\nfirm in his uprightness, he replied, I have\\njust been dismissed from Mr. s, of\\nwhom you may inquire. He has tried me,\\nhe has known me. When applied to, his\\nformer employer gave a full and free recom-\\nmendation, and added, He was too con-\\nscientious about little matters. The young\\nman is now partner in a large firm in Boston,\\nand is apparently becoming rich.\\nA Treasure above Price.\\nA multitude of cases might be added, illus-\\ntrating the value of honesty, and the great\\ndanger and shame of falsehood and fraud.\\nBusiness men will rehearse them to you by\\nscores, and prove that under any circum-\\nstances honesty is the best policy. And\\nso you will find it in all your dealings with\\nyour fellow-men, and as you grow older in\\nlife, the conviction will become stronger and\\ndeeper, that a good reputation for honesty\\nand manliness is above all price.\\nThe purest treasure mortal lives afford,\\nIs spotless reputation that away,\\nMen are but gilded worms or painted clay.\\nRemember these things as you advance in\\nlife, and as you grow older preserve your\\nintegrity. Be above the little arts and tricks\\nof small men, and if you grow rich, let it be\\nby honest and patient industry. Build not\\nup a fortune from the labors of others, from\\nthe unpaid debts of creditors, from the uncer-\\ntain games of chance, but from manly effort,\\nwhich never goes unrewarded. Never engage\\nin any business unless you can be honest in\\nit if it will not give a fair living without\\nfraud, leave it, as you would the gate of\\ndeath.\\nIf, after all, you are poor, if by exerting\\nyourself nobly and manfully, if by living\\nhonestly and uprightly you cannot secure a\\ncompetency, then submit to poverty, aye, to\\nhard, grinding poverty. Be willing, if it\\nmust be so, to breast the cold tide of want\\nand sorrow, see your flesh waste day by\\nday, and your blood beat more heavily, than\\nmake yourself rich at the expense of honesty.\\nRewards of Honesty.\\nAll is vanity which is not honesty thus is it graven\\non the tomb\\nI speak of honest purpose, character, speech, and\\naction.\\nHonesty, even by itself, though making many adver-\\nsaries\\nWhom prudence might have set aside, or charity\\nhave softened.\\nEvermore will prosper at the last, and gain a man\\ngreat honor.\\nM. F. TUPPER.\\nThe following incident is a striking illus-\\ntration of the saying that honesty is the best\\npolicy\\nTwo boys came at an early hour to a\\ncountry market-town. They spread out\\ntheir little stands, and sat down to wait for\\ncustomers. One of them sold melons and\\nfruit, the others dealt in oysters and fish.\\nThe market hours passed on, and they were\\nboth doing well. The goods on their stands\\nwere gradually getting less, and the money\\nin their pockets gradually getting more.\\nThe last melon lay on Harry s stand. A\\ngentleman came by, and placing his hand on\\nit, said, What a fine large melon I think\\nI must buy it. What do you ask for it, my\\nboy?\\nThe melon is the last I have, sir, and\\nthough it looks very fair, there is an unsound\\nspot on the other side, said the boy, turning\\nit over.\\nSo there is, said the man, I think I ll\\nnot take it. But, he added, looking in the\\nboy s face, is it very business-like to point", "height": "3497", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0258.jp2"}, "259": {"fulltext": "THE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\n223\\nout the defects of your goods to customers\\nPerhaps not, sir but it s better than being\\ndishonest, said the boy, modestly.\\nYou are right, my boy always remem-\\nber to speak the truth, and you will find\\nfavor with God and man. You have nothing\\nelse that I wish this morning, but I shall not\\nforget your little stand in the future. Then,\\nturning to Ben Wilson s stand, he asked,\\nAre those oysters fresh?\\nYes, sir, fresh this morning, was the\\nreply. The gentleman bought them and\\nwent away.\\nHarry, what a fool you were to show the\\ngentleman that spot in the melon Now\\nyou can take it home for your pains, or\\nthrow it away. How much wiser I was\\nabout those stale oysters sold them at the\\nsame price as the fresh ones. He would\\nnever have looked at the melon till he got\\nhome.\\nBen, I wouldn t tell a lie, or act one\\neither for twice the money we ve both earned\\nto-day. Besides, I shall be better off in the\\nend, for I have gained a customer, and you\\nhave lost one.\\nAnd so it proved for the next day the\\ngentleman bought a large supply of fruit\\nfrom Harry, but he never spent another\\npenny at Ben s stand. So it continued all\\nthrough the summer. At the close of the\\nseason he took Harry into his store, and,\\nafter awhile, gave him a share in the business.\\nThere are some things that pay.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0259.jp2"}, "260": {"fulltext": "KING CANUTE TRYING TO SWEEP BACK THE OCEAN.\\n224", "height": "3497", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0260.jp2"}, "261": {"fulltext": "CHAPXKR XIII.\\nTRUTHFULNESS.\\nF I take out my watch to find\\nwhat time it is, it will be of\\nlittle use for me to look at it\\nunless I am sure that it keeps\\ngood time. If it sometimes\\nstands still for an hour or more\\nand then goes on again if it\\nsometimes loses two or three hours a day by\\ngoing too slow, or gains as much more by\\ngoing too fast, then I cannot depend upon it.\\nA watch that cannot be depended upon is\\nof very little use. It may have a beautiful\\ngold case, it may be sparkling with jewels,\\nyet it will be of no service to me as a watch\\nunless I can depend on what it tells me\\nabout the time. We do not judge of the\\nvalue of a watch by the kind of case it has,\\nbut by finding out whether it keeps good\\ntime.\\nAnd so, one of the things by which we\\njudge of the real value and worth of men or\\nwomen, of boys or girls, is this Are they\\ntruthful Do they mean what they say\\nAre they really what they seem to be If\\nthey speak the truth and act the truth, then\\nthey are like a watch that keeps good time.\\nA gentleman once asked a deaf and dumb\\nboy, What is truth? He replied by taking\\na piece of chalk and drawing on the black-\\nboard a straight line between two points.\\nThen he asked him, What is a lie The\\nboy rubbed out the straight line, and drew a\\nzig-zag (or crooked line) between the same\\ntwo points. Remember this.\\nTruth is the beginning of every good\\nthing, both in heaven and on earth and\\nhe who would be blessed and happy should\\nbe from the first a partaker of the truth, that\\nhe may live a true man as long as possible,\\nfor then he can be trusted but he is not to\\nbe trusted who loves voluntary falsehood,\\nand he who loves involuntary falsehood is\\na fool.\\nShe Did a Large Business.\\nHere is what Ben Franklin has to say on\\nthe subject of truth and deception:\\nA friend of mine was the other day\\ncheapening some trifles at a shopkeeper s,\\nand after a few words they agreed on a price.\\nAt the tying up of the parcels he had pur-\\nchased, the mistress of the shop told him\\nthat people were growing very hard, for she\\nactually lost by everything she sold. How,\\nthen, is it possible, said my friend, that you\\ncan keep on your business. Indeed, sir,\\nanswered she, I must of necessity shut my\\ndoors, had I not a very great trade. The\\nreason, said my friend (with a sneer), is\\nadmirable.\\nThere are a great many retailers who\\nfalsely imagine that lying is much for their\\nadvantage; and some of them have a saying\\nthat it is a pity lying is a sin, it is so useful\\nin trade; though, if they would examine\\ninto the reason why a number of shop-\\nkeepers raise considerable estates, while\\nothers who have set out with better for-\\ntunes have become bankrupts, they would\\nfind that the former made up with truth\\n225", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0261.jp2"}, "262": {"fulltext": "226\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\ndiligence and probity, what they were de-\\nficient of in stock; while the latter have\\nbeen guilty of imposing on such customers\\nas they found had no skill in the quality\\nof their goods.\\nThe former character raises a credit\\nwhich supplies the want of fortune, and their\\nfair dealing brings them customers; whereas\\nnone will i-eturn to buy of him by whom he\\nhas been once imposed upon. If people in\\ntrade would judge rightly, we might buy\\nblindfolded, and they would save both to\\nthemselves and customers the unpleasant-\\nness of haggling.\\nThough there are numbers of shopkeep-\\ners who scorn the mean vice of lying, and\\nwhose word may very safely be relied on,\\nyet there are too many who will endeavor,\\nand, backing their falsities with assevera-\\ntions, pawn their salvation to raise their\\nprices.\\nNever Told a Lie.\\nAs example works more than precept,\\nand my sole view being the good and inter-\\nest of my countrymen, whom I could wish\\nto see without any vice or folly, I shall offer\\nan example of the veneration bestowed on\\ntruth and abhorrence of falsehood among\\nthe ancients.\\nAugustus, triumphing over Mark An-\\ntony and Cleopatra, among other captives\\nwho accompanied them brought to Rome\\na priest of about sixty years old. The\\nSenate, being informed that this man had\\nnever been detected in a falsehood, and was\\nbelieved never to have told a lie, not only\\nrestored him to liberty, but made him a\\nHigh Priest, and caused a statue to be\\nerected to his honor. The priest thus\\nhonored was an Egyptian, and an enemy\\nto Rome; but his virtue removed all ob-\\nstacles.\\nPamphilius was a Roman citizen whose\\nbody upon his death was forbidden sepul-\\nture, his estate was confiscated, his house\\nrazed, and his wife and children banished\\nthe Roman territories, wholly for his having\\nbeen a notorious and inveterate liar.\\nCould there be greater demonstrations\\nof respect for truth than these of the\\nRomans, who elevated an enemy to the\\ngreatest honors, and exposed the family\\nof a citizen to the greatest contumely?\\nWill Lie and Swear to It.\\nThere can be no excuse for lying; neither\\nis there anything equally despicable and\\ndangerous as a liar, no man being safe who\\nassociates with him for, he who will lie will\\nswear to it, says the proverb, and such a\\none may endanger my life, turn my family\\nout of doors, and ruin my reputation, when-\\never he shall find it his interest; and if a\\nman will lie and swear to it in his shop to\\nobtain a trifle, why should we doubt his\\ndoing so when he may hope to make a\\nfortune by his perjury? The crime is in\\nitself so mean, that to call a man a liar is\\nesteemed everywhere an affront not to be\\nforgiven.\\nIf any have lenity enough to allow the\\ndealers an excuse for this bad practice, I\\nbelieve they will allow none for the gentle-\\nman who is addicted to this vice, and must\\nlook upon him with contempt. That the\\nworld does so is visible by the derision\\nwith which his name is treated whenever it\\nis mentioned.\\nThe philosopher Epimenides gave the\\nRhodians this description of truth She is\\nthe companion of the gods, the joy of\\nheaven, the light of the earth, the pedestal\\nof justice, and the basis of good policy.\\nEschines told the same people that truth\\nwas a virtue without which force was en-", "height": "3466", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0262.jp2"}, "263": {"fulltext": "TRUTHFULNESS.\\nfeebled, justice corrupted, humility became\\ndissimulation, patience intolerable, chastity a\\ndissembler, liberty lost, and pity superfluous.\\nfor all evils, and a light to the whole world.\\nAnaxarchus, speaking of truth, said it\\nwas health incapable of sickness, life not sub-\\nISO \\\\IRTUE OF MORE NOBLE WORTH,\\nTHAN TRUTH, FROM HEAVEN BROUGHT TO EARTH.\\nPharmanes, the philosopher, told the\\nRomans that truth was the centre on which\\nall things rested a chart to sail by, a remedy\\nject to death, an elixir that healeth all, a sun\\nnot to be obscured, a moon without eclipse,\\nan herb which never withereth, a gate that", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0263.jp2"}, "264": {"fulltext": "228\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nis never closed, and a path which never\\nfatigues the traveller.\\nBut, if we are blind to the beauties of\\ntruth, it is astonishing that we should not\\nopen our eyes to the inconvenience of falsity.\\nA man given to romance must be always on\\nhis guard for fear of contradicting and ex-\\nposing himself to derision for it is impos-\\nsible, with the utmost circumspection, to\\ntravel long on this route without detection,\\nand shame and confusion follow. Whereas,\\nhe who is a votary of truth never hesitates\\nfor an answer, has never to rack his inven-\\ntion to make the sequel quadrate with the\\nbeginning of his story, nor is he obliged to\\nburden his memory with minute circurn-\\nstances, since truth speaks easily what it\\nrecollects, and repeats openly and frequently\\nwithout varying facts, which liars cannot\\nalways do, even though gifted with a good\\nmemory.\\nThe Angel of Truth.\\nHard by Truth s temple\\nA lovely being stood\\nArrayed in white,\\nThe symbol of her God.\\nThe unholy throng passed by.\\nAnd stood aghast\\nSaid, Let me be like her,\\nAnd on they passed.\\nThere s beauty in that form\\nNot elsewhere seen\\nIt s in her name and nature,\\nAnd her stately mien.\\nHer name is Truth,\\nA lovely Christian grace\\nAmong heaven s mighty\\nShe ever holds her place.\\nThe earth shall pass away.\\nThe stars shall fall.\\nThe heavens roll together\\nL,ike a parchment scroll\\nBut truth shall live forever.\\nAnd through endless ages give\\nHer blessings to the sainted,\\nAnd fail them never, never.\\nHonesty and truthfulness go well together.\\nHonesty is truth, and truth is honesty.\\nTruth alone may not constitute a great man,\\nbut it is the most iinportant element of a\\ngreat character. It gives security to those\\nwho employ him, and confidence to those\\nwho serve under him. Truth is the essence\\nof principle, integrity, and independence. It\\nis the primary need of every man. Absolute\\nveracity is more needed now than at any\\nformer period in our history.\\nDare to be True.\\nLying, common though it be, is de-\\nnounced even by the liar himself He pro-\\ntests that he is speaking the truth, for he\\nknows that truth is universally respected,\\nwhile lying is universally condemned. Lying\\nis not only dishonest, but cowardly. Dare\\nto be true, said George Herbert nothing\\ncan ever need a lie. The most mischiev-\\nous liars are those who keep on the verge\\nof truth. They have not the courage to\\nspeak out the fact, but go round about it,\\nand tell what is really untrue. A lie which\\nis half the truth is the worst of lies.\\nThere is a duplicity of life which is quite\\nas bad as verbal falsehood. Actions have\\nas plain a voice as words. The mean man\\nis false to his profession. He evades the\\ntruth that he professes to believe. He plays\\nat double dealing. He wants sincerity and\\nveracity. The sincere man speaks as he\\nthinks, believes as he pretends to believe,\\nacts as he professes to act, and performs as\\nhe promises.\\nOther forms of practical contradiction\\nare common, says Mr. Spurgeon some\\nare intolerantly liberal others are ferocious\\nadvocates for peace, or intemperate on intem-\\nperance. We have known pleaders for\\ngenerosity who were themselves miserably\\nstingy. We have heard of persons who", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0264.jp2"}, "265": {"fulltext": "TRUTHFULNESS.\\n22\u00c2\u00bb\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2have been wonderful sticklers for the truth\\nmeaning thereby a certain form of doctrine\\nand yet they have not regarded the truth\\nin matters of buying and selling, or with\\nregard to the reputations of their neighbors,\\nor the incidents of domestic life.\\nLying is one of the most common and\\nconventional of vices. It prevails in what is\\ncalled society. Not at home is the\\nfashionable mode of reply to a visitor.\\nLying is supposed to be so necessary to\\ncarry on human affairs that it is tacitly\\nagreed to. One lie may be considered\\nharmless, another slight, another unintended.\\nLittle lies are common. However tolerated,\\nlying is more or less loathsome to every\\npure-minded man or woman. Lies, says\\nRuskin, may be light and accidental, but\\nthey are an ugly soot from the smoke of the\\npit, and it is better that our hearts should be\\nswept clean of them, without our care as to\\nwhich is largest or blackest.\\nRegulus Returned and Died.\\nA man should care more for his word than\\nfor his life. When Regulus was sent by the\\nCarthaginians, whose prisoner he was, to\\nRome, with a convoy of ambassadors to sue\\nfor peace, it was under the condition that he\\nshould return to his prison if peace were not\\neffected. He took the oath, and swore that\\nhe would come back.\\nWhen he appeared at Rome he urged the\\nsenators to persevere in the war, and not to\\nagree to the exchange of prisoners. That\\ninvolved his return to captivity at Carthage.\\nThe senators, and even the chief priest, held\\nthat as his oath had been wrested from him\\nby force, he was not bound to go. Have\\nyou resolved to dishonor me asked Regu-\\nlus. I am not ignorant that death and tor-\\ntures are preparing for me but what are\\nthese to the shame of an infamous action, or\\nthe wounds of a guilty mind Slave as I\\nam to Carthage, I have still the spirit of a\\nRoman. I have sworn to return. It is my\\nduty to go. Let the gods take care of the\\nrest. Regulus returned to Carthage, and\\ndied under torture.\\nHow to Live Well.\\nLet him that would live well, said Plato,\\nattain to truth, and then, and not before,\\nhe will cease from sorrow. Let us also\\ncite a passage from the Emperor Marcus\\nAurelius He who acts unjustly acts im-\\npiously for since the universal nature has\\nmade rational animals for the sake of one\\nanother, to help one another according to\\ntheir deserts, but in no way to injure one\\nanother, he who transgresses his will is\\nclearly guilty of impiety toward the highest\\ndivinity. And he, too, that lies is guilty\\nof impiety to the same divinity, from the\\nuniversal nature of all things that are and\\nall things that are have a relation to alL\\nthings that come into existence.\\nAnd further, this universal nature is\\nnamed truth, and is the prime cause of all\\nthings that are true. He, then, who lies\\nintentionally is guilty of impiety, inasmuch as.\\nhe acts unjustly by deceiving and he also,\\nwho lies unintentionally, inasmuch as he is\\nat variance with the universal nature, and\\ninasmuch as he disturbs the order by fight-\\ning against the nature of the world; for he\\nfights against it who is moved of himself to\\nthat which is contrary to truth, for he has\\nreceived powers from nature, through the\\nneglect of which he is not able now to dis-\\ntinguish falsehood from truth. And, indeed,\\nhe who pursues pleasure as good, and avoids\\npain as evil, is guilty of impiety.\\nTruth and honesty show themselves in\\nvarious ways. They characterize the men\\n1 of just dealing, the faithful men of business.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0265.jp2"}, "266": {"fulltext": "230\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nthe men who will not deceive you to their\\nown advantage. Honesty is the plainest and\\nhumblest manifestation of the principle of\\ntruth. Full measures, just weights, true\\nsamples, full service, strict fulfillment of\\nengagements, are all indispensable to men of\\ncharacter.\\nAll bad work is lying. It is thoroughly\\ndishonest. You pay for having a work done\\nwell it is done badly and dishonestly. It\\nmay be varnished over with a fair show of\\nsufficiency, but the sin is not discovered until\\nit is too late. So long as these things con-\\ntinue, it is in vain to talk of the dignity of\\nlabor, or of the social value of the so-called\\nworkingman. There can be no dignity of\\nlabor where there is no truthfulness of work.\\nDignity does not consist in hollowness and\\nin light-handedness, but in substantiality and\\nin strength. If there be flimsiness and super-\\nficiality of all kinds apparent in the work of\\nthe present day more than in the work of our\\nforefathers, whence comes it From eager-\\nness and competition, and the haste to be rich\\nDo Your Best.\\nSocrates explained how usfful and excel-\\nlent a thing it was that a n an should re-\\nsolve on perfection in his own line, so that,\\nif he be a carpenter, he will be the best\\npossible carpenter; or if a statesman, that\\nhe will be the best possible statesman. It is\\nby such means that true success is achieved.\\nSuch a carpenter, Socrates said, would win\\nthe wreath of carpentering, though it was\\nonly of shavings.\\nTake the case of Wedgewood, who had\\nthe spirit of the true worker. Though risen\\nfrom the ranks, he was never satisfied until\\nhe had done his best. He looked especially\\nto the quality of his work, to the purposes\\nit would serve, and to the appreciation of it\\nby others. This was the source of his\\nwork and success. He would tolerate n^\\ninferior work. If it did not come up to hi.\u00c2\u00ab\\nidea of what it should be, he would take up\\nhis stick, break the vessel, and throw it\\naway, saying, This won t do for Josiah\\nWedgewood\\nOf course he took the greatest care to\\ninsure perfection, as regarded geometrical\\nproportions, glaze, form and ornament. He\\npulled down kiln after kiln to effect some\\nnecessary improvement. He learned perfec-\\ntion through repeated failures. He invented\\nand improved almost every tool used in his\\nworks. He passed much of his time at the\\nbench beside his workmen, instructing them\\nindividually. How he succeeded his works\\nwill show.\\nHe Kept his Word.\\nAnother instance of true honesty and\\ncourage may be mentioned in the case of a\\ngreat contractor. We mean Thomas Bras-\\nsey. Even when slighting was common, he\\nwas always true to his word and work. The\\nBarentin viaduct of twenty-seven arches was\\nnearly completed, when, loaded with wet\\nafter a heavy fall of rain, the whole building\\ntumbled down. The casualty involved a loss\\nof ^150,000. The contractor was neither\\nmorally nor legally responsible. He had\\nrepeatedly protested against the material\\nused in the structure, and the French law-\\nyers maintained that his protest freed him\\nfrom liability.\\nBut Mr. Brassey was of a different opinion.\\nHe had contracted, he said, to make and\\nmaintain the road, and no law should pre-\\nvent him from being as good as his word.\\nThe viaduct was rebuilt at Mr. Brassey s\\ncost. His life is one of the highest exam-\\nples we can offer to this generation.\\nThere is more or less deception in all\\nkinds of business. It used to be said there", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0266.jp2"}, "267": {"fulltext": "TRUTHFULNESS.\\n231\\nwas no God west of the Mississippi, but\\nsome persons might be disposed to think-\\nthere is no God east of that river. The\\nalmighty dollar is the true divinity, and its\\nworship is universal.\\nA Sacramento paper says that Americans\\nare a money-loving and money-making peo-\\nple. They have no queen or aristocracy to\\nrule them their aristocracy is money. The\\nlust of wealth overrides every other con-\\nsideration. Fraud in trade is the rule in-\\nstead of the exception. We poison our\\nprovisions with adulteration. We even\\npoison our drugs with cheaper materials.\\nWe sell shoddy for wool. Wc sell veneer-\\ning for solid wood. We build wretched\\nsheds of bad brick and bad mortar and\\ngreen wood, and call them houses. We\\nrob and cheat each other all round, and in\\nevery trade and business, and we are all so\\nbent on making money that we have not\\ntime to protest against even the more pal-\\npable frauds, but console ourselves by going\\nforth and swindling somebody else. We\\npay a very heavy price for our national\\nidiosyncrasy. We are rapidly destroying\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2ur national sense of honesty and integrity.\\nFraud is Criminal.\\nIn those benighted and slavish countries\\nwhich are ruled by monarchs they contrive\\nto live a great deal cheaper and a good deal\\nbetter than we can. There fraud is regarded\\nas criminal, and the impostor, when detected,\\nis punished severely. But those are old fogy\\ncountries, who know nothing about liberty.\\nThey have no Fourth of July, no Wall\\nStreet, no codfish or shoddy aristocracies.\\nThey do not recognize the fact that the right\\nto life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness\\n(which means money), entitles every man to\\ncheat his neighbors, and bars redress.\\nIn the arithmetic of the counting-house\\ntwo and two do not always make four. How\\nmany tricks are resorted to in which hon-\\nesty forms no part for making money faster\\nthan others Instead of working patiently\\nand well for a modest living, many desire to\\nget rich all at once. The spirit of the age is\\nnot that of a trader, but of a gambler. The\\npace is too fast to allow of any one stopping\\nto inquire as to those who have fallen out by\\nthe way. They press on the race for wealth\\nis for the swift. Their faith is in money. It\\nneeds no prophet to point out the connection\\nof our distress with the sin of commercial\\ngambling and fraud, and of social extrava-\\ngance and vanity, of widespread desolation\\nand misery. The inevitable failure comes,\\nand the recreant flies to avoid the curses\\nof his creditors.\\nA Poor German Peasant,\\nHere is a fine specimen of honesty and\\ntruthfulness on the part of a poor German\\npeasant. Bernardin de Saint-Pierre has told\\nthe story. He was serving as an engineer\\nunder the Count de Saint-Germain during\\nhis campaign in Hesse, in 1760. For the\\nfirst time he became familiar with the horrors\\nof war. Day by day he passed through\\nsacked villages and devastated fields and\\nfarm-yards. Men, women, and children were\\nflying from their cottages in tears. Armed\\nmen were everywhere destroying the fruits of\\ntheir labor, regarding it as part of their glory.\\nBut in the midst of so many acts of cruelty\\nSaint-Pierre was consoled by a sublime trait\\nof character displayed by a poor man whose\\ncottage and farm lay in the way of the\\nadvancing army.\\nA captain of dragoons was ordered out\\nwith his troop to forage for provisions.\\nThey reached a poor cabin and knocked at\\nthe door. An old man with a white beard\\nappeared. Take me to a field, said the", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0267.jp2"}, "268": {"fulltext": "232\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nofficer, where I can obtain forage for my\\ntroops. Immediately, sir, replied the\\nold man. He put himself at their head, and\\nascended the valley. After about half an\\nhour s march a fine field of barley appeared.\\nThis will do admirably, said the officer.\\nNo, said the old man wait a httle, and\\nall will be right. They went on again,\\nuntil they reached another field of barley.\\nThe troops dismounted, mowed down the\\ngrain, and trussing it up in bundles, put them\\non their horses. Friend, said the officer,\\nhow is it that you have brought us so far?\\nThe first field of barley that we saw was quite\\nas good as this. That is quite true, said\\nthe peasant, but it was not mine\\nI was there to See Myself.\\nThe true character acts rightly, whether\\nin secret or in the sight of men. That boy\\nwas well trained who, when asked why he\\ndid not pocket some pears, for nobody was\\nthere to see, replied: Yes, there was; I\\nwas there to see myself; and I don t intend\\never to see myself do a dishonest thing.\\nThis is a simple but not inappropriate illustra-\\ntion of principle, or conscience, dominating\\nin the character, and exercising a noble pro-\\ntectorate over it; not merely a passive influ-\\nence, but an active power regulating the hfe.\\nSuch a principle goes on molding the\\ncharacter hourly and daily, growing with\\na force that operates every moment. With-\\nout this dominating influence, character has\\nno protection, but is constantly liable to fall\\naway before temptation and every such\\ntemptation succumbed to, every act of mean-\\nness or dishonesty, however slight, causes\\nself-degradation. It matters not whether\\nthe act be successful or not, discovered or\\nconcealed the culprit is no longer the same,\\nbut another person and he is pursued by\\na secret uneasiness, by self-reproach, or the\\nworkings of what we call conscience, which\\nis the inevitable doom of the guilty.\\nThere is a truthfulness in action, as well as\\nin words, which is essential to uprightness of\\ncharacter. A man must really be what he\\nseems or purposes to be. When an Ameri-\\ncan gentleman wrote to Granville Sharp, that\\nfrom respect for his great virtues he had\\nnamed one of his sons after him, Sharp re-\\nplied I must request you to teach him a\\nfavorite maxim of the family whose name\\nyou have given him Always endeavor to be\\nreally what you would wish to appear. This\\nmaxim, as my father informed me, was care-\\nfully and humbly practiced by his father,\\nwhose sincerity, as a plain and honest man,\\nthereby became the principal feature of his\\ncharacter, both in public and private life.\\nEvery man who respects himself, and\\nvalues the respect of others, will carry out\\nthe maxim in act doing honestly what he\\nproposes to do putting the highest charac-\\nter into his work, slighting nothing, but\\npriding himself upon his integrity and con-\\nscientiousness.\\nOnce Cromwell said to Bernard a clever\\nbut somewhat unscrupulous lawyer I un-\\nderstand that you have lately been vastly\\nwary in your conduct do not be too con-\\nfident of this: subtlety may deceive you,.\\nintegrity never will. Men whose acts are\\nat variance with their words command no\\nrespect, and what they say has but little\\nweight even truths, when uttered by them,\\nseem to come blasted from their lips.\\nThe Warfare of Truth.\\nOnce this soft turf, this rivulet s sands,\\nWere trampled by a hurrying crowd,\\nAnd fiery hearts and armed hands\\nEncountered in the battle-cloud.\\nAh never shall the land forget\\nHow gushed the life-blood of her brave", "height": "3496", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0268.jp2"}, "269": {"fulltext": "TRUTHFULNESS.\\n233\\nI\\nGashed, warm with hope and courage yet,\\nUpon the soil they fought to save.\\nNow all is calm and fresh and still\\nAlone the chirp of flitting bird,\\nAnd talk of children on the hill.\\nAnd bell of wandering kine, are heard.\\nNo solemn host goes trailing by\\nThe black-mouthed gun and staggering wain\\nMen start not at the battle-cr\\nO, be it never heard again\\nSoon rested those who fought but thou\\nWho minglest in the harder strife\\nFor truths which men receive not now,\\nThy warfare only ends with life.\\nA friendless warfare lingering long\\nThrough weary day and weary year\\nA wild and many-weaponed throng\\nHang on thy front and flank and rear.\\nYet nerve thy spirit to the proof,\\nAnd blanch not at thy chosen lot\\nThe timid good may stand aloof,\\nThe sage may frown\u00e2\u0080\u0094 yet faint thou not.\\nNor heed the shaft too surely cast.\\nThe foul and hissing bolt of scorn\\nFor with thy side shall dwell, at last,\\nThe victory of endurance born.\\nTruth, crushed to earth, shall rise again\\nThe eternal years of God are hers\\nBut Error, wounded, writhes in pain.\\nAnd dies among his worshippers.\\nYea, though thou lie upon the dust,\\nWhen they who helped thee flee in fear,\\nDie full of hope and manly trust.\\nLike those who fell in battle here\\nAnother hand thy sword shall wield.\\nAnother hand the standard wave,\\nTill from the trumpet s mouth is pealed\\nThe blast of triumph o er thy grave.\\nWilliam Cullen Bryant.\\nOh, how great is the power of truth\\nwhich of its own power can easily defend\\nitself against all the ingenuity and cunning\\nwisdom of men, and against the treacherous\\nplots of all the world. The firmest and\\nnoblest ground on which people can live is\\ntruth the real with the real a ground on\\nwhich nothing is assumed.\\nTo love truth for truth s sake is the prin-\\ncipal part of human perfection in this world,\\nand the seed-plot of all other virtues. The\\ngerms of all truth lie in the soul, and when\\nthe ripe moment comes, the truth within\\nanswers to the fact without as the flower\\nresponds to the sun, giving it form for heat\\nand color for light.\\nStory of a Cobbler,\\nWe read a pretty story of St. Anthony,\\nwho, being in the wilderness, led there a very\\nhard and strait life, insomuch that none at\\nthat time did the like to whom came a\\nvoice from heaven, saying, Anthony, thou\\nart not so perfect as is a cobbler that dwelleth\\nat Alexandria. Anthony, hearing this, rose\\nup forthwith, and took his staff, and went till\\nhe came to Alexandria, where he found the\\ncobbler. The cobbler was astonished to see\\nso reverend a father come to his house.\\nThen Anthony said unto him, Come and\\ntell me thy whole conversation, and how\\nthou spendest thy time.\\nSir, said the cobbler, as for me, good\\nworks have I none for my life is but simple\\nand slender. I am but a poor cobbler. Jn\\nthe morning when I rise, I pray for the whole\\ncity wherein I dwell, especially for all such\\nneighbors and poor friends as I have after,\\nI set me at my labor, where I spend *th^\\nwhole day in getting my living and I keep\\nme from all falsehood, for I hate nothing so\\nmuch as I do deceitfulness wherefore, when\\nI make to any man a promise, I keep it and\\nperform it truly. And thus I spend my time\\npoorly with my wife and children, whom I\\nteach and instruct, as far as my wit will\\nserve me, to fear and love God. And thi^\\nis the sum of my simple life.\\nDuty is closely allied to truthfulness of", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0269.jp2"}, "270": {"fulltext": "234\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\ncharacter and the dutiful man is, above all\\nthings, truthful in his words as in his actions.\\nHe says and he does the right thing in the\\nright way, and at the right time.\\nThere is probably no saying of Chester-\\nfield that commends itself more strongly to\\nthe approval of manly-minded men, than\\nthat it is truth that makes the success of the\\nman. Clarendon, speaking of one of the\\nnoblest and purest men of his age, says of\\nFalkland, that he was so severe an adorer\\nof truth, that he could as easily have given\\nJiimself leave to steal as to dissemble.\\nAlways Fulfilled His Promise.\\nIt was one of the finest things that Mrs.\\nHutchinson could say of her husband, that\\nJie was a thoroughly truthful and reliable\\nman He never professed the thing he\\nintended not, nor promised what he believed\\nout of his power, nor failed in the perform-\\nance of anything that was in his power to\\nfulfill.\\nWellington was a severe admirer of truth.\\nAn illustration may be given. When\\nafflicted by deafness, he consulted a cele-\\nbrated aurist, who, after trying all remedies\\nin vain, determined, as a last resource, to\\ninject into the ear a strong solution of caustic.\\nIt caused the most intense pain, but the\\npatient bore it with his usual equanimity.\\nThe. family physician accidentally calling\\none day, found the duke with flushed cheeks\\n.and blood-shot eyes, and when he rose he\\nstaggered about like a drunken man.\\nThe doctor asked to be permitted to look\\nat his ear, and then he found that a furious\\ninflammation was going on, which, if not\\nimmediately checked, must shortly reach the\\nbrain and kill him. Vigorous remedies were\\nat once applied, and the inflammation was\\nchecked. But the hearing of that car was\\ncompletely destroyed.\\nWhen the aurist heard of the danger his\\npatient had run, through the violence of the\\nremedy he had employed, he hastened to the\\nApsley House to express his grief and mor-\\ntification but the duke merely said Do\\nnot say a word more about it you did all\\nfor the best. The aurist said it would be\\nhis ruin when it became known that he had\\nbeen the cause of so much suffering and\\ndanger to the duke. But nobody need\\nknow anything about it: keep your own\\ncounsel, and, depend upon it, I won t say a\\nword to anyone. Then you will allow\\nme to attend you as usual, which will show\\nthe public that you have not withdrawn your\\nconfidence from me? No, replied the\\nduke, kindly but firmly I can t do that,\\nfor that would be a lie. He would not act\\na falsehood any more than he would speak\\none.\\nBlucher at Waterloo,\\nAnother illustration of duty and truthful-\\nness, as exhibited in the fulfillment of a\\npromise, may be added from the life of\\nBlucher. When he was hastening with 1 is\\narmy over bad roads to the help of Wellmg-\\nton, on the i8th of June, 1815, he encour-\\naged his troops by words and gestures.\\nForward, children forward! It is im-\\npossible; it can t be done, was the answer.\\nAgain and again he urged them. Chil-\\ndren, we must get on; you may say it can t\\nbe done, but it must be done! I have prom-\\nised my brother Wellington promised, do\\nyou hear? You wouldn t have me break\\nmy word! And it was done.\\nTruth is the very bond of society, without\\nwhich it must cease to exist, and dissolve\\ninto anarchy and chaos. A household can-\\nnot be governed by lying nor can a nation.\\nSir Thomas Browne asked, Do the devils\\nlie? No, was his answer; for then", "height": "3480", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0270.jp2"}, "271": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0271.jp2"}, "272": {"fulltext": "236\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\neven hell could not subsist. No considera-\\ntions can justify the sacrifice of truth, which\\nought to be sovereign in all the relations of\\nlife.\\nOf all mean vices, perhaps lying is the\\nmeanest. It is in some cases the offspring of\\nperversity and vice, and in many others of\\nsheer moral cowardice. Yet many persons\\nthink so lightly of it that they will order their\\nservants to lie for them nor can they feel\\nsurprised if, after such ignoble instruction,\\nthey find their servants lying for themselves.\\nMany Forms of Deception.\\nSir Harry Wotton s description of an\\nambassador as an honest man sent to lie\\nabroad for the benefit of his country, though\\nmeant as a satire, brought him into disfavor\\n^ith James I. when it became published for\\nan Eidversary quoted it as a principle of the\\nking s religion. That it was not Wotton s\\nreal view of the duty of an honest man, is\\nobvious from the lines, in which he eulogizes\\nthe man\\nWhose armor is his honest thought,\\nAnd simple truth his utmost skill.\\nBut lying assumes many forms such as\\ndiplomacy, expediency, and moral reserva-\\ntion and, under one guise or another, it is\\nfound more or less pervading all classes of\\nsociety. Sometimes it assumes the form of\\nequiyocation or moral dodging twisting and\\nso stating the things said as to convey a false\\nimpression a kind of lying which a French-\\nmar^* once described as walking round about\\nthe truth.\\nNobody likes deception. The moral sense\\nof every community is shocked by it. In\\nSalem, Mass., it was supposed that there\\nwere certain persons who, by the practice of\\nthe black art, or by being in league with the\\ndevil, had power to bewitch and deceive\\nothers. Those who were suspected were\\narrested, tried, and made to suffer for their\\nsupposed crime, the guilt of which may, in\\ngreat measure, be laid on the shoulders of\\nCotton Mather, author of Memorable Provi-\\ndences Relating to Witchcraft and Posses-\\nsions, and Wonders of the Invisible World.\\nNineteen persons were executed, among the\\nsix men one clergyman and Giles Corey, a\\nman over eighty, who, refusing to plead, was\\npressed to death.\\nAll died protesting their innocence, and\\neven those who had been terrified into con-\\nfession withdrew it, although their honesty\\ncost them their lives. Nor were the victims\\nhere at least abandoned by their friends. In\\nall the trials of this kind there is nothing so\\npathetic, says Mr. Lowell, as the picture of\\nJonathan Cary holding up the weary arms of\\nhis wife during her trial, and wiping away\\nthe sweat from her brow and the tears from\\nher face.\\nAll Discharged from Jail.\\nA reaction speedily set in, and, though in\\nJanuary, 1693, three more were condemned,\\nno more executions took place, and a few\\nmonths after the governor discharged all the\\nsuspects from jail, as many as one hundred\\nand fifty in number. One Samuel Parris, a\\nclergyman, who had been one of the main\\ninstigators of the prosecutions, confessed his\\nerror, but was dismissed by his flock in\\n1696, while even Cotton Mather acknowl-\\nedged that there had been a going too far\\nin that affair.\\nThere are even men of narrow minds and\\ndishonest natures, who pride themselves upon\\ntheir cleverness in equivocation, in their\\nserpent-wise shirking of the truth and get-\\ning out of moral back-doors, in order to\\nhide their real opinions and evade the con-\\nsequences of holding and openly professing", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0272.jp2"}, "273": {"fulltext": "TRUTHFULNESS.\\n237\\nthem. Institutions or systems based upon\\nany such expedients must necessarily prove\\nfalse and hollow. Though a lie be ever so\\nwell dressed, says George Herbert, it is\\never overcome. Downright lying, though\\nbolder and more vicious, is even less con-\\ntemptible than such kind of shuffling and\\nequivocation.\\nUntruthfulness exhibits itself in many\\nother forms in reticency on the one hand,\\nor exaggeration on the other; in disguise\\nor concealment; in pretended concurrence\\nin others opinions; in assuming an attitude\\nof conformity which is deceptive in making\\npromises, or allowing them to be implied,\\nwhich are never intended to be performed;\\nor even in refraining from speaking the truth\\nwhen to do so is a duty.\\nThe Man with a Double Face.\\nThere are also those who are all things to\\nall men, who say one thing and do another,\\nlike Bunyan s Mr. Facing-both-ways only\\ndeceiving themselves when they think they\\nare deceiving others and who, being es-\\nsentially insincere, fail to evoke confidence,\\nand invariably in the end turn out failures,\\nif not impostors.\\nOthers are untruthful in their pretentious-\\nness, and in assuming merits which they do\\nnot really possess. The truthful man is, on\\nthe contrary, modest, and makes no parade\\nof himself and his deeds. When Pitt was in\\nhis last illness, the news reached England of\\nthe great deeds of Wellington in India.\\nThe more I hear of his exploits, said Pitt,\\nthe more I admire the modesty with which\\nhe receives the praises he merits for them.\\nHe is the only man I ever knew that was\\nnot vain of what he had done, and yet had\\nso much reason to be so.\\nSo it is said of Faraday by Professor\\nTyndall, that pretense of all kinds, whether\\nin life or in philosophy, was hateful to him.\\nDr. Marshall Hall was a man of like spirit\\ncourageously truthful, dutiful, and manly.\\nOne of his most intimate friends has said of\\nhim that, wherever he met with untruthful-\\nness or sinister motive, he would expose it,\\nsaying, I neither will, nor can, give my\\nconsent to a he. The question, right or\\nwrong, once decided in his own mind, the\\nright was followed, no matter what the sacri-\\nfice or the difficulty neither expediency nor\\ninclination weighing one jot in the balance.\\nBelieved what was Told Him.\\nThere was no virtue that Dr. Arnold\\nlabored more sedulously to instill into young\\nmen than the virtue of truthfulness, as being\\nthe manliest of virtues, as, indeed, the very\\nbasis of all true manliness. He designated\\ntruthfulness as moral transparency, and he\\nvalued it more highly than any other quality.\\nWhen lying was detected, he treated it as a\\ngreat moral offence but when a pupil made\\nan assertion, he accepted it with confidence.\\nIf you say so. that is quite enough; of\\ncourse, I beheve your word. By thus trust-\\ning and believing them, he educated the\\nyoung in truthfulness; the boys at length\\ncoming to say to one another: It s a shame\\nto tell Arnold a lie he always believes one.\\nThere is no precept of the moral law that\\nis more frequently and shamefully violated\\nthan that which forbids lying, and yet there\\nis nothing about which people generally are\\nso sensitive as a doubt of their veracity.\\nThe term liar is one of the most oppro-\\nbrious epithets which may be applied to a\\nperson, and its use has often been the cause\\nof much mischief This expression is very\\nfrequently not only much misunderstood, but\\nbadly misused. And just here, it is impor-\\ntant to remember that words are representa-\\ntives of ideas, and if we use the wrong words", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0273.jp2"}, "274": {"fulltext": "238\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nto express our thoughts, we are liable to be\\nmisapprehended, and thus do ourselves and\\nothers injury.\\nThe following anecdote will illustrate the\\nwrong use of terms. The celebrated John\\nWesley was on one occasion at table with\\nsome friends, when the lady of the house\\nasked him to take another cup of tea. He\\ndeclined then, but afterward, his appetite im-\\nproving probably, he said he would be pleased\\nto take another cup when she, with much\\nsurprise, replied that she did not know be-\\nfore that a minister would tell a lie. He\\nanswered that he did not wish to tell a lie,\\nbut he thought that a minister might change\\nhis mind. Her difficulty arose from not\\nknowing what was meant by a lie, and, there-\\nfore, she was not only led into an act of gross\\nimpoliteness, bur also of great injustice to ?n\\nexcellent man.\\nAn Important Distinction.\\nFew persons make a distinction between a\\nlie and an untruth. That there is a most\\nimportant difference may easily be perceived.\\nAn untruth may be defined as an assertion\\nthat is contrary to the fact, while a lie is the\\nassertion of an untruth with an intention to\\ndeceive. A lie is always an untruth, but\\nan untruth is not always a lie. A man, from\\nignorance or misunderstanding, may assert\\nwhat is untrue and not violate the moral law\\nbut if what he says is contrary to the truth,\\nand he knows it, he is guilty of lying.\\nIf my neighbor, for instance, shall say that\\nAmerica was discovered in 1620, he has\\nmade a misstatement, for such is not the\\ntruth, and it is plain that he has confounded\\nthe discovery of America with the landing of\\nthe Pilgrims. This he might have done\\nwithout any intention to deceive if, there-\\nfore, I say to him, you have stated the fact\\nincorrectly, or what you have stated is not\\ntrue, do I charge him with lying Cer-\\ntainly not. But if I tell him he lies, I mean\\nthat the statement he made was false, and\\nthat he knew it. It is plain that in making\\nso grave a charge as that a person lies, we\\nmu.st have a clear and unquestionable proof,\\nnot only of the untruth, but also of the\\ndesign to deceive.\\nAshamed to get Found Out.\\nNothing is easier with vulgar people tha\u00c2\u00bb\\nto use hard names first, because they are\\nirritating, and such persons have no regard\\nfor the feelings of their neighbors and,\\nsecondly, because they have really little\\nregard for truth. A truly honorable man is\\nvery sensitive in all matters which appear to-\\ncast discredit upon his integrity or veracity,\\nand, for this reason, the dishonorable man-\\naffects a sensitiveness he really does not feel.\\nThe latter may lie, and cheat, and steal, and\\nhis distress arises, not from doing these dis-\\nhonorable acts, but in being discovered and\\ntold of it.\\nitory is told of a man who had a quar-\\nrel with a mathematician, and, after consider-\\nable abuse, concluded by calling him a liar.\\nPreserving his temper, the latter calmly\\nreplied, You have called me a liar, which is\\na very grave charge against one who claims\\nto be a gentleman. Now, if you can prove\\nit, it must be true, and I shall be ashamed of\\nmyself; but if you cannot prove it, it is you\\nwho should be ashamed, because you state\\nwhat is not true for purposes of mischief.\\nIt is you, then, who are the liar.\\nAs a lie is any intentional violation of the\\ntruth, it is plain that to make a lie it is not\\nnecessary to use spoken language it may be\\nuttered in words, or signs, or gestures of the\\nhead, or motions of the body. A pupil may\\ncough a He to deceive his teacher in school\\nin short, any means taken to create a false", "height": "3496", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0274.jp2"}, "275": {"fulltext": "TRUTHFULNESS.\\n239\\nimpression is a lie. The ways of doing this\\nare too many to be named here.\\nIt is no less a lie when told by the old to\\nthe young, than by the young to the old\\nby the parent to the child, than by the\\nchild to the parent. When the mother\\nsays to her little child, The bears will\\ncatch you if you go into the street, she\\nlies. She knows there are no bears there.\\nMany children are taught to lie in this\\nmanner.\\nA lie may be told by uttering only a part\\nof the truth, and keeping back some facts\\nwhich are necessary to a complete knowledge\\nof the whole. Again, it may consist in an\\nexaggeration or overstatement of facts.\\nThese are the most common forms of\\ndeception, and are as base as statements in\\nwhich there is not a particle of truth. Nor\\ndoes it matter whether the subject be import-\\nant or unimportant; a lie told as a joke is no\\nless a lie because it is a joke, and a joking\\nliar cannot be a gentleman. There can be\\nno such thing as an innocent lie, or a harm-\\nless Har.\\nDifficult to Quote Exact Words.\\nIt is not unusual to hear persons attempt,\\nnot only to give the ideas expressed by\\nanother, but to state them in the precise\\nlanguage in which they were uttered. While\\nit is very desirable to quote the very words\\nthat fall from another s lips, it is also very\\ndifficult, and very few persons have the\\nnatural ability or the cultivation to do it with\\nentire accuracy.\\nTo illustrate to his school the necessity of\\nabsolute precision in the statement of words,\\nand the difficulty of acquiring it, a teacher\\nselected from the high school six of his most\\ncapable boys, whose average age was, per-\\nhaps, seventeen years. He explained the\\nexperiment he was about to make, and de-\\nsired them to give it their close attention, in\\norder, if possible, to repeat the words he was\\nabout to give them. The plan was to show\\nMaster A a short sentence written on a piece\\nof paper, which he was requested to memo-\\nrize and whisper to Master B, who, in turn,\\nwas to communicate it to Master C, and so\\non, till the last of the six should receive it,,\\nand write it upon the blackboard.\\nA Ludicrous Blunder.\\nThe boys were anxious to prove that they\\ncould tell a straight story when they applied\\ntheir minds to it, especially, since a failure\\non this trial would show them to be inaccu-\\nrate, and consequently unreliable ^n all\\nordinary statements, where no unusual efforts\\nwere made to report correctly. The follow-\\ning sentence was prepared for the trial\\nMaternal affection is an instinct which most-\\nanimals possess in common with man.\\nAfter each boy had communicated the sen-\\ntence to his neighbor, the last one wrote the-\\nfollowing, as his version Maternal affec-\\ntion is an instinct which all animals possess\\nexcept man.\\nA comparison of these two sentences\\nproves that it is a difficult feat of memory to\\nrepeat, even under favorable circumstances,\\nany words uttered by another. Since these\\nboys, selected for their smartness, accus-\\ntomed to give attention as pupils, anxious tO\\nshow their ability to hear exactly and repeat\\naccurately, failed to make a true report ol\\nthirteen words, how much more liable must\\nordinary persons be, under circumstances-\\nless favorable, to report incorrectly the pre-\\ncise words in a given conversation.\\nA change of two or three words in the\\nabove experimental sentence makes the last\\nboy state the very reverse of the sentiment\\nexpressed by the first one. How absurd it\\nis to suppose that persons generally can", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0275.jp2"}, "276": {"fulltext": "240\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nreproduce the exact language of others, and\\nhow exceedingly cautious we should be in\\ngiving or receiving statements claiming to be\\nso accurate.\\nThe following little poem will illustrate the\\ninability of some persons to report words\\ncorrectly, as spoken of in the preceding\\nparagraph\\nSaid Gossip One to Gossip Two,\\nWhile shopping in the town,\\nOne Mrs. Pry to me remarked.\\nSmith bought his goods of Brown.\\nSays Gossip Two to Gossip Three,\\nWho cast her eyelids down,\\nI ve heard it said to-day, my friend,\\nSmith got his goods from Brown.\\nSays Gossip Three to Gossip Four,\\nWith something of a frown,\\nI ve heard strange news what do you think?\\nSmith took his goods from Brown.\\nSays Gossip Four to Gossip Five,\\nWho blazed it round the town,\\nI ve heard to-day such shocking news\\nSmith stole his goods from Brown.\\nThus the innocent remark grew and\\nchanged. The same principle of evidence\\nholds good with reference to things done as in\\nwords spoken. If we are likely to be inac-\\ncurate in the report of language, so we may fail\\nto be correct in narrating what we see. If, by\\ninattention, we hear erroneously, by the same\\nneglect we may see imperfectly. Several\\npersons may witness an exciting occurrence,\\nand, while they agree as to the general facts,\\nmay differ very much in their statement of\\nthe separate incidents. One may see what\\nentirely escaped the notice of another who\\nhad an equal opportunity for observation.\\nNow, it is evident that, in giving testimony,\\nthey may disagree in many particulars, and\\nyet each may state exactly the impressions\\nmade on his mind and be entirely truthful.\\nIf they differ, their disagreement is not neces-\\nsarily an evidence of a want of veracity, but\\nonly a confirmation of the truth that two\\npersons are rarely impressed by what they\\nsee in precisely the same way.\\nA promise may be defined as an agree-\\nment to do, or not to do, a certain thing.\\nWhen such an engagement is made, the party\\nor parties are in honor bound to fulfill it in\\nits letter and spirit. As no one can look into\\nthe future to determine what may happen,\\nthe greatest care should be taken not to\\npromise anything that he may not reason-\\nably expect to perform.\\nThe Intention to Deceive.\\nIf a boy promises his teacher, for instance,\\nto prepare a given lesson by to-morrow, and\\nwillfully neglects the duty, he lies for the\\npromise was made with an intention to\\ndeceive. If the promise was made in good\\nfaith and forgotten, he did not tell the\\ntruth, nor did he tell a lie, but his\\nneglect to perform the work was a wrong\\nto himself and his teacher, the repetition\\nof which would result in a habit injurious\\nto his character and reputation.\\nIf the promise was made with the intention\\nof performing it, and in returning home he\\nhad fallen and broken his leg, so that it was\\nimpossible for him either to study or to return\\nto school, he should not be held responsible,\\nas he is not to blame for the non-performance\\nof his agreement.\\nFrom these illustrations it will be per-\\nceived that we have no right to promise\\nwhat we are unable or unwilling to perform\\nbut if we make any engagement with the\\nintention of keeping our word, and are pre-\\nvented by circumstances we did not foresee,\\nand could not control, we do no wrong.\\nEvery promise should be understood as\\ndepending upon providential circumstances.\\nThere are some promises which are made", "height": "3497", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0276.jp2"}, "277": {"fulltext": "TRUTHFULNESS.\\n241\\nin good faith that ought never to be fulfilled.\\nA boy agreed with his classmates to go to a\\nneighboring orchard to steal apples. When\\nthe appointed time came, he determined not\\nto go, for his conscience had whispered,\\nThou shalt not steal, and he concluded to\\nobey it. The boys jeered him for a coward,\\nand claimed that as an honorable boy he\\nshould stick to his promise.\\nKe reasoned in this way Before I made\\nthis agreement, I was under obligations to\\nGod and man not to steal. I had no right\\nto promise to do wrong. My first duty was\\nto obey God, and while it was wrong to make\\nthe promise, it would be a greater wrong to\\nkeep it, therefore I shall not go. If this\\nreasoning be correct, it is wrong to promise\\nto do wrong, and therefore such a promise\\nis not morally binding.\\nHow Much for a Lie?\\nIf we are under no moral obligation to\\nfulfill a promise made to do a wrong, there\\ncan be no dishonor in refusing its perform-\\nance. Dishonor belongs to those who\\npersist in doing wrong after thej^ have dis-\\ncovered the right.\\nWould you tell a lie for three cents?\\nasked a teacher of one of her boys. No,\\nma am, answered Dick, very promptly.\\nFor ten cents? No, ma am. For\\na dollar? No, ma am. For a hun-\\ndred dollars? No, ma am. For a\\nthousand dollars?\\nHere Dick was staggered. A thousand\\ndollars looked hke such a very big sum.\\nOh what lots of things he could buy with\\na thousand dollars. While he was thinking\\nabout it, and trying to make up his mind\\nwhether it would pay to tell a lie for a thou-\\nsand dollars, a boy behind him cried out\\nNo, ma am. Why not? asked the\\nteacher.\\n16\\nNow, mark this boy s answer, and do not\\nforget it. Because, ma am, said he, the\\nlie sticks. When the thousand dollars are\\nall gone, and the good things bought with\\nthem are all gone, too, the lie is there all the\\nsame.\\nAnd when we tell a lie we never can tell\\nwhere the injury that springs from it will\\nstop. It is just like loosening a great rock\\nat the top of a mountain and letting it go\\nrolling and plunging down the side of the\\nmountain. Nobody can tell how far it will\\ngo, nor how much injury it will do before it\\nstops rolling.\\nA Wild Beast let Loose.\\nTelling a lie is like letting a wild beast ou/\\nof a cage. You can never tell how man^\\npeople that animal will wound or kill\\nbefore he is caught again. Telling a lie\\nis like dropping sparks in powder. It is\\nsure to make an explosion, and no one\\ncan tell beforehand how much harm that\\nit will do.\\nTruthfulness, integrity and goodness\\nqualities that hang not on any man s breath\\nform the essence of manly character, or, as\\none of our old writers has it, that inbred\\nloyalty unto virtue which can serve her\\nwithout a livery. He who possesses these\\nqualities, united with strength of purpose,\\ncarries with him a power which is irresistible.\\nHe is strong to do good, strong to resist evil,\\nand strong to bear up under difficulty and\\nmisfortune. When Stephen of Colonna fell\\ninto the hands of his base assailants, and they\\nasked him in deri.sion, Where is now your\\nfortress? Here, was his bold reply,\\nplacing his hand upon his heart. It is in\\nmisfortune that the character of the upright\\nman shines forth with the greatest luster;\\nand when all else fails, he takes his stand\\nupon his integrity and his courage.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0277.jp2"}, "278": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3475", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0278.jp2"}, "279": {"fulltext": "CHAPTER XIV.\\nPERSEVERANCE.\\nN old negro preacher is reported\\nto have said to his congrega-\\ntion Bredren, you must per-\\nsevere. Maybe you don t know\\nwhat that is so I will tell you.\\nTo persevere is to take hold,\\nhang on, and not let go.\\nThis is what all men have done who have\\ncarried out their purposes. Cyrus W. Field\\ndetermined to connect the old world and the\\nnew by telegraph. People laughed at him,\\ncalled him visionary, a fool, and a fit\\nsubject for a lunatic asylum. The sneers\\nand jeers of staid men who pronounced him\\na fool and a fit candidate for a straight-jacket,\\ndid not drive him from the straight line of\\nduty. With interminable industry and un-\\nconquerable perseverance he pursued the\\nobject of his ambition.\\nThe stock of the Atlantic Telegraph Com-\\npany was hawked about the streets and\\nbecame the sport of speculators. When his\\nhouse went down in the commercial crisis,\\ngrave men attributed the failure to the vision-\\nary character of Mr. Field; but he had a\\nheart that never failed a capital stock of\\nhope and courage that carried him safely\\nthrough all this tumult of opposition. The\\nreverses of fortune the entreaties of friends\\n\u00e2\u0080\u0094the opposition of enemies the ridicule of\\nconceited wiseacres the untoward events of\\nthe great enterprise the backing out of direc-\\ntors the resistance of the winds and the\\nwaves, did not dishearten him.\\nHe believed that an all-wise and over-\\nruling Providence would direct him; indeed.\\nhe remarked to the Rev. Dr. Adanas, of New\\nYork, that he believed God would prosper\\nhim in his effort, and earnestly entreated to\\nbe remembered at the altar of private and\\npublic worship.\\nIs it possible to conceive a spectacle more\\nsublime than that which is presented in the\\neventful history of this remarkable man? A\\nmere boy he embarks in business and is\\nprostrated by the mismanagement or mis-\\ncalculations of his seniors, but he falls only\\nto rebound higher than before. A great\\nthought troubles him he wishes to embody\\nit into a deed and unite the old world with\\nthe new; so he asks the Congress of the\\nUnited States to assist him and after a vast\\ndeal of congressional gas had been consumed\\nhis request is begrudgingly granted.\\nA Great Achievement.\\nHe crosses the ocean, forms a company,\\nraises a fund, obtains the assistance of two\\nnations, and with his cable on the war-ships\\nhe links the continents. Now where are the\\nWall street brokers who made his paper the\\nsport of street speculations? Where is the\\nlittle snob who refused to honor his drafts?\\nWhere are the human sharks who had opened\\ntheir mouths and sharpened their teeth to\\ndevour him Where are the snarling critics\\nwho predicted his utter failure and held him\\npersonally responsible for every change in\\nthe weather and every flaw in the cable?\\nThey are nowhere, and Field is one of the\\nmost honored men of the age. He worked\\na iiiiracle, and the generations of men will\\n243", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0279.jp2"}, "280": {"fulltext": "244\\nPERSEVERANCE.\\nlienor his memory through all future time\\nand rehearse his achievements.\\nThe old world and the new are now next-\\ndoor neighbors. The lightning is a messen-\\nger, constantly crossing the sea on a bridge\\nof wire, with personal and public intelligence.\\nThe civilized peoples are grouped within hail-\\ning signals by the genius and energy of this\\npersevering and inspired Yankee. Xerxes\\nattempted to chain the waves, and failed.\\nOur Cyrus, with a chain of Hghtning,\\nmade the ocean do his bidding, and carry\\nhis torch from sea to sea, and from shore to\\nshore, without putting out the light.\\nPressed toward his Mark.\\nPerseverance always wins. The writer of\\nthese lines was once a member of the Legis-\\nlature of Connecticut. A short time before\\nthe session was to commence a young man\\ncalled on him one evening and stated that he\\nwas a candidate for the position of clerk of\\nthe House and was trying to secure the votes\\nof the members. He was a bright, quick,\\ngentlemanly young man of good appearance\\nand evidently of good breeding. He was\\ntold that another candidate, one who had\\nalready been assistant clerk, was sure to be\\nappointed, that the matter was really settled\\nand he had no chance whatever to secure the\\nappointment.\\nHe replied, What you say may be true\\nI have heard it from others, still, I doubt it.\\n]3ut I m not discouraged if I can t secure\\nthe appointment, I can at least have the\\npleasure of working for it.\\nThe reply was so manly and showed so\\nmuch pluck and determination that I could\\nnot help wishing him success. He was not\\nin the least dismayed at the sure prospect of\\ndefeat. He had the pleasure of working\\nfor his object, but was defeated. His spirit,\\nenergy, manliness^ capability, impressed all\\nhe met, and he held steadily to his aim. He\\nwas grandly resolute in his determination to\\nfinally succeed. And afterward he did suc-\\nceed and gained the prize he sought. He\\nhad to wait and work. He could do both,\\nand because he could wait and work, and\\ncould press steadily toward his mark, he\\nreached the goal of his ambition.\\nPerseverance doesn t get thrown into a\\npanic it is not subject to fainting fits. In\\nits book of tactics there is no such word\\nas retreat. Forward is on every page,\\nbut there is no retreat. It burns the\\nbridges it has crossed. It knows nothing\\nabout backward movements. It doesn t\\nrun at the sight of a foe. It halts only\\nto get breath. It rests only to rise in\\ngreater strength. It may have to go slowly,\\nbut it goes. Mountains of difficulty may be\\nagainst it, but it knows how to climb now\\nit is on the other side. A man who cannot\\npersevere is too weak, nerveless, limpsy, for\\nthis rough, go-ahead age. He is sure to be\\nleft.\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0Working and Winning.\\nDreamers and idlers are all around us.\\nThey wish to do nothing and yet accom-\\nplish wonders. They would go to sleep and\\nwake up rich. They would thrust their hands\\nin their pockets and become millionaires.\\nThey dream of chances, great schemes, lucky\\nventures, miraculous investments. They are\\nfailures, dismal failures. They eat dinners\\nand wear clothes because someone else earns\\nthe dinners for them and pays for the\\nclothes There is an army of these idlers,\\nthese do-nothings who are always waiting\\nfor something to turn up. They have yet\\nto learn that work and perseverance, taking\\nhold and hanging on and not letting go,\\nis the only way for going to sleep and waking\\nup rich.", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0280.jp2"}, "281": {"fulltext": "THE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nThe greatest results in life are usually-\\nattained by simple means, and the exercise\\nof ordinary qualities. The common life of\\nevery day, with its cares, necessities and\\nduties, affords ample opportunity for acquir-\\ning experience of the best kind and its most\\nbeaten paths provide the true worker with\\nabundant scope for effort and room for self-\\nimprovement. The road of human welfare\\nlies along the old highway of steadfast well-\\ndoing; and they who are the most persistent,\\nand work in the truest spirit, will usually be\\nthe most successful.\\nFortune has often been blamed for her\\nblindness but fortune is not so blind as men\\nare. Those who look into practical life will\\nfind that fortune is usually on the side of the\\nindustrious, as the winds and waves are on\\nthe side of the best navigators. In the pur-\\nsuit of even the highest branches of human\\ninquiry, the commoner qualities are found\\nthe most useful such as common sense, at-\\ntention, application and perseverance. Genius\\nmay not be necessary, though even genius\\nof the highest sort does not disdain the use\\nof these ordinary qualities.\\nLight your own Fire.\\nThe very greatest men have been among\\nthe least believers in the power of genius,\\nand as worldly-wise and persevering as suc-\\ncessful men of the commoner sort. Some\\nhave even defined genius to be only common\\nsense intensified. A distinguished teacher\\nand president of a college spoke of it as the\\npower of making efforts. John Foster held\\nit to be the power of lighting one s own fire.\\nBuffon said of genius, It is patience.\\nNewton s was unquestionably a mind of\\nthe very highest order, and yet, when asked\\nby what means he had worked out his ex-\\ntraordinary discoveries, he modestly an-\\nswered, By always thinking unto them.\\nAt another time he thus expressed his\\nmethod of study I keep the subject con-\\ntinually before me, and wait till the first\\ndawnings open slowly by little and little into\\na full and clear light. It was in Newton s\\ncase, as in every other, only by diligent\\napplication and perseverance that his great\\nreputation was achieved. Even his recrea-\\ntion consisted in change of study, laying\\ndown one subject to take up another. To\\nDr. Bently he said: If I have done the\\npublic any service, it is due to nothing but\\nindustry and patient thought.\\nNo Genius without Labor.\\nSo Kepler, another great philosopher,,\\nspeaking of his studies and his progress,\\nsaid I brooded with the whole energy of\\nmy mind upon the subject.\\nThe extraordinary results effected by dint\\nof sheer industry and perseverance, have led\\nmany distinguished men to doubt whether\\nthe gift of genius be so exceptional an endow-\\nment as it is usually supposed to be. Thus\\nVoltaire held that it is only a very slight line\\nof separation that divides the man of genius\\nfrom the man of ordinary mold. Beccaria\\nv/as even of the opinion that all men might\\nbe poets and orators, and Reynolds that they\\nmight be painters and sculptors.\\nLocke, Helvetius and Diderot believed\\nthat all men have an equal aptitude for\\ngenius, and that what some are able to\\neffect under the laws which regulate the\\noperations of the intellect, must also be\\nwithin the reach of others who, under\\nlike circumstances, apply themselves to like\\npursuits. But while admitting to the fullest\\nextent the wonderful achievements of labor^\\nand recognizing the fact that men of most\\ndistinguished genius have invariably been\\nfound the most indefatigable workers, it\\nmust, nevertheless, be sufficiently obvious", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0281.jp2"}, "282": {"fulltext": "246\\nPERSEVERANCE.\\nthat, without the original endowment of\\nheart and brain, no amount of labor, how-\\never well applied, could have produced a\\nShakespeare, a Newton, a Beethoven, or a\\nMichael An gelo.\\nDalton, the chemist, repudiated the notion\\nof his being a genius, attributing every-\\nthing which he had accompHshed to simple\\nindustry and accumulation. John Hunter\\nsaid of himself: My mind is like a bee-\\nhive but full as it is of buzz and apparent\\nconfusion, it is yet full of order and regular-\\nity, and food collected with incessant industry\\nfrom the choicest stores of nature.\\nTurning all things to Gold.\\nWe have, indeed, but to glance at the\\nbiographies of great men to find that the\\nmost distinguished inventors, artists, thinkers\\nand workers of all kinds, owe their success,\\nin a great measure, to their indefatigable\\nindustry and application. They were men\\nwho turned all things to gold even time\\nitself Disraeli the elder held that the secret\\nof success consisted in being master of your\\nsubject, such mastery being attainable only\\nthrough continuous application and study.\\nHence it happens that men who have\\nmost moved the world have not been so\\nmuch men of genius, strictly so called, as\\nmen of intense mediocre abilities, and untir-\\ning perseverance not so often the gifted, of\\nnaturally bright and shining qualities, as\\nthose who have applied themselves diligently\\nto their work, in whatsoever Hne that might\\nlie. Alas said a widow, speaking of her\\nbrilliant but careless son, he has not the\\ngift of continuance. Wanting in persever-\\nance, such volatile natures are outstripped in\\nthe race of life by the diligent and even the\\ndull. Says the Italian proverb who goes\\nslowly, goes long, and goes far.\\nHence, a great point to be aimed at is to\\nget the working quality well trained. When\\nthat is done, the race will be found compara-\\ntively easy. We must repeat and again\\nrepeat facility will come with labor. Not\\neven the simplest art can be accomplished\\nwithout it and what difficulties it is found\\ncapable of overcoming\\nIt was by early discipline and repetiton\\nthat Sir Robert Peel cultivated those remark-\\nable, though still mediocre powers, which\\nrendered him so illustrious an ornament of\\nthe British Senate. When a boy at Drayton\\nManor, his father was accustomed to set him\\nup at table to practice speaking extempore\\nand he early accustomed him to repeat as\\nmuch of the Sunday s sermon as he could\\nremember. Little progress was made at first,\\nbut by steady perseverance the habit of\\nattention became powerful, and the sermon\\nwas at length repeated almost verbatim.\\nTraining the Memory.\\nWhen afterward replying in succession to\\nthe arguments of his parliamentary oppo-\\nnents an art in which he was perhaps\\nunrivaled it was little surmised that the\\nextraordinary power of accurate remembrance\\nwhich he displayed on such occasions had\\nbeen originally trained under the discipline\\nof his father in the parish church of Drayton.\\nIt is indeed marvelous what continuous\\napplication will effect in the commonest of\\nthings. It may seem a simple affair to play\\nupon a violin yet what a long and labor-\\nious practice it requires Giardini said to a\\nyouth who asked him how long it would take\\nto learn it, Twelve hours a day for twenty\\nyears together.\\nProgress, however, of the best kind, is\\ncomparatively slow. Great results can not\\nbe achieved at once and we must be satis-\\nfied to advance in life as we walk, step by\\nstep. De Maistre says that To know how", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0282.jp2"}, "283": {"fulltext": "THE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nto wait is the great secret of success. We\\nmust sow before we can reap, and often have\\nto wait long, content meanwhile to look\\npatiently forward in hope the fruit best\\nworth waiting for often ripening the slowest.\\nBut time and patience, says the Eastern\\nproverb, change the mulberry leaf to satin.\\nThe Chief Pleasure.\\nTo wait patiently, however, men must\\nwork cheerfully. Cheerfulness is an excel-\\nlent working quality, imparting great elas-\\nticity to the character. As a bishop has\\nsaid, Temper is nine-tenths of Christian-\\nity; so are cheerfulness and diligence nine-\\ntenths of practical wisdom. They are the\\nlife and soul of success, as well as of happi-\\nness perhaps the very highest pleasure in\\nlife consisting in clear, brisk, conscious work-\\ning energy confidence and every other\\ngood quality mainly depending upon it.\\nSydney Smith, when laboring in Yorkshire\\nthough he did not feel himself to be in his\\nproper element went cheerfully to work in\\nthe iirm determination to do his best. I\\nam resolved, he said, to like it, and recon-\\ncile myself to it, which is more manly than\\nto feign myself above it, and to send up com-\\nplaints by the post of being thrown away,\\nand being desolate, and such Hke trash.\\nSo Dr. Hook, when leaving Leeds for a\\nnew sphere of labor, said, Wherever I may\\nbe, I shall, by God s blessing, do with my\\nmight what my hand findeth to do and if I\\ndo not find work, I shall make it.\\nLaborers for the public good especially,\\nhave to work long and patiently, often\\nuncheered by the prospect of immediate\\nrecompense or result. The seeds they sow\\nsometimes lie hidden under the winter s\\nsnow, and before the spring comes the hus-\\nbandman may have gone to his rest. It is\\nnot every public worker who, like Rowland\\n247\\nforth fruit in\\nHill, sees his great idea bring\\nhis lifetime.\\nAdam Smith sowed the seeds of a great\\nsocial amelioration in that dingy old Univer-\\nsity of Glasgow where he so long labored,\\nand laid the foundations of his Wealth of\\nNations but seventy years passed before\\nhis work bore substantial fruits, nor indeed\\nare they all gathered in yet.\\nNothing can compensate for the loss of\\nhope in a man it entirely changes the char-\\nacter. How can I work how can I be\\nhappy, said a great but miserable thinker,\\nwhen I have lost all hope One of the\\nmost cheerful and courageous, because one\\nof the most hopeful of workers, was Carey,\\nthe missionary. When in India it was no\\nuncommon thing for him to weary out three\\npundits, who officiated as his clerks, in one\\nday, he himself taking rest only in change of\\nemployment.\\nPoor Young Men Helping Another.\\nCarey, the son of a shoemaker, was sup-\\nported in his labors by Ward, the son of a\\ncarpenter, and Marsham, the son of a weaver.\\nBy their labor a magnificent college was\\nerected at Serampore; sixteen flourishing\\nstations were established; the Bible was\\ntranslated into sixteen languages, and the\\nseeds were sown of a beneficient moral revo-\\nlution in British India. Carey was never\\nashamed of the humbleness of his origin.\\nOn one occasion, when at the Governor-\\nGeneral s table, he overheard an officer\\nopposite him asking another, loud enough\\nto be heard, whether Carey had not once\\nbeen a shoemaker No, sir, exclaimed\\nCarey, immediately; only a cobbler.\\nAn eminently characteristic anecdote has\\nbeen told of his perseverance as a boy. When\\nclimbing a tree one day, his foot slipped, and\\nhe fell to the ground, breaking his leg by the", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0283.jp2"}, "284": {"fulltext": "248\\nPERSEVERANCE.\\nfall. He was confined to his bed for weeks,\\nbut when he recovered and was able to walk\\nwithout support, the very first thing he did\\nwas to go and climb that tree. Carey had\\nneed of this sort of dauntless courage for the\\ngreat missionary work of his life, and nobly\\nand resolutely he did it.\\nIt was a maxim of Dr. Young, the phil-\\nosopher, that Any man can do what any\\nother man has done; and it is unquestion-\\nable that he himself never recoiled from any\\ntrials to which he determined to subject him-\\nself. It is related of him, that the first time\\nhe mounted a horse the horseman who pre-\\nceded him leaped a high fence. Young\\nwished to imitate him, but fell off his horse\\nin the attempt. Without saying a word, he\\nremounted, made a second effort, and was\\nagain unsuccessful, but this time he was not\\nthrown further than onto the horse s neck,\\nto which he clung. At the third trial he\\nsucceeded, and cleared the fence.\\nA Treasure Lost,\\nThe story of Timour the Tartar learning a\\nlesson of perseverance under adversity from\\nthe spider is well known. Not less interest-\\ning is the anecdote of Audubon, our Ameri-\\ncan ornithologist, as related by himself. An\\naccident, he says, which happened to two\\nhundred of my original drawings, nearly put\\na stop to my researches in ornithology. I\\nshall relate it, merely to show how far enthu-\\nsiasm for by no other name can I call my\\nperseverance may enable the preserver of\\nnature to surmount the most disheartening\\ndifficulties.\\nI left the village of Henderson, in Ken-\\ntucky, situated on the banks of the Ohio,\\nwhere I resided for several years, to proceed\\nto Philadelphia on business. I looked to my\\ndrawings before my departure, placed them\\ncarefully in a wooden box, and gave them in\\ncharge of a relative, with injunctions to see\\nthat no injury should happen to them. My\\nabsence was of several months and when I\\nreturned, after having enjoyed the pleasures\\nof home for a few days, I inquired after my\\nbox, and what I was pleased to call my\\ntreasure.\\nThe box was produced and opened; but,\\nreader, feel for me a pair of Norway rats\\nhad taken possession of the whole, and reared\\na young family among the gnawed bits of\\npaper, which, but a month previous, repre-\\nsented nearly a thousand inhabitants of the\\nair The burning heat which instantly rushed\\nthrough my brain was too great to be endured\\nwithout affecting my whole nervous system.\\nI slept for several nights, and the days\\npassed like days of oblivion until the animal\\npowers being recalled into action through the\\nstrength of my constitution, I took up my\\ngun, my note-book and my pencils, and went\\nforth to the woods as gayly as if nothing had\\nhappened. I felt pleased that I might now\\nmake better drawings than before and, ere\\na period not exceeding three years had\\nelapsed, my portfoHo was again filled.\\nThe Work of Years Destroyed.\\nThe accidental destruction of Sir Isaac\\nNewton s papers, by his little dog Dia-\\nmond upsetting a lighted taper upon his\\ndesk, by which the elaborate calculations of\\nmany years were in a moment destroyed, is\\na well-known anecdote, and need not be\\nrepeated it is said that the loss caused the\\nphilosopher such profound grief that it seri-\\nously injured his health and impaired his\\nunderstanding, but did not turn him from\\nhis purpose.\\nAn accident of a somewhat similar kind\\nhappened to the manuscript of Mr. Carlyle s\\nfirst volume of his French Revolution.\\nHe had lent the manuscript to a literary", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0284.jp2"}, "285": {"fulltext": "THE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\n249\\nneighbor to peruse. By some mischance it\\nhad been left lying on the parlor floor and\\nbecome forgotten. Weeks ran on, and the\\nhistorian sent for his work, the printers being\\nloud for copy. Inquiries were made, and\\nit was faund that the maid of all work, find-\\ning what she conceived to be a bundle of\\nwaste-paper on the floor, had used it to light\\nthe kitchen and parlor fires with Such was\\nthe answer returned to Mr. Carlyle, and his\\nfeelings may be imagined.\\nAn Instance of Perseverance.\\nThere was, however, no help for him but\\nto set resolutely to work to re-write the\\nbook and he turned to and did it. He had\\nno draft, and was compelled to rake up from\\nhis memory facts, ideas, and expressions\\nwhich had been long since dismissed. The\\ncomposition of the book in the first instance\\nhad been a work of pleasure the re-writing\\nof it a second time was one of pain and\\nanguish almost beyond belief. That he per-\\nsevered and finished the volume under such\\ncircumstances affords an instance of determi-\\nnation of purpose which has seldom been\\nsurpassed.\\nThe lives of eminent inventors are emi-\\nnently illustrative of the same quality of\\nperseverance. George Stephenson, when\\naddressing young men, was accustomed to\\nsum up his best advice to them in the words,\\nDo as I have done persevere. He had\\nworked at the improvement of his locomo-\\ntive for some fifteen years before achieving\\nhis decisive victory and Watt was engaged\\nfor some thirty years upon the condensing-\\nengine before he brought it to perfection.\\nBut there are equally striking illustrations of\\nperseverance to be found in every other\\nbranch of science, art and industry. Perhaps\\none of the most interesting is that connected\\nwith the disentombment of the Nineveh\\nMarbles, and the discovery of the long-lost\\ncuneiform or arrow-headed character in which\\nthe inscriptions on them are written a kind\\nof writing which had been lost to the world!\\nsince the period of the Macedonian conquest\\nof Persia.\\nAn intelligent cadet of the East India\\nCompany, stationed at Kermanshah, in Persia,,\\nhad observed the curious cuneiform inscrip-\\ntions on the old monuments in the neighbor-\\nhood so old that all historical traces of\\nthem had been lost and among the inscrip-\\ntions which he copied was that on the\\ncelebrated rock of Behistun a perpendicular\\nrock rising abruptly some 1,700 feet from\\nthe plain, the lower part bearing inscriptions\\nfor the space of about 300 feet in three lan-\\nguages Persian, Scythian and Assyrian.\\nA Great Discovery.\\nComparison of the known with the un-\\nknown, of the language which survived with\\nthe language that had been lost, enabled this\\ncadet to acquire some knowledge of the\\ncuneiform character, and even to form an\\nalphabet. Mr. (afterward Sir Henry) Rawl-\\ninson sent his tracings home for examination.\\nNo professors in colleges as yet knew any-\\nthing of the cuneiform character but there\\nwas a clerk of the East India House a\\nmodest unknown man of the name of Norris\\nwho had made this little-understood subject\\nhis study, to whom the tracings were sub-\\nmitted and so accurate was his knowledge,\\nthat, though he had never seen the Behistun\\nrock, he pronounced that the cadet had not\\ncopied the puzzling inscription with proper\\nexactness.\\nRawlinson, who was still in the neighbor-\\nhood of the rock, compared his copy with\\nthe original, and found that Norris was right;\\nand by further comparison and careful study\\nthe knowledge of the cuneiform writing was\\nL", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0285.jp2"}, "286": {"fulltext": "250\\nPERSEVERANCE.\\nthus greatly advanced, and the world was\\nmade to v/onder.\\nBut to make the learning of these two\\nself-taught men of avail, a third laborer was\\nnecessary in order to supply them with\\nmaterial for the exercise of their skill. Such\\na laborer presented himself in the person of\\nAusten Layard, originally a clerk in the\\noffice of a London solicitor. One would\\nscarcely have expected to find in these three\\nmen, a cadet, an India-House clerk, and a\\nlawyer s clerk, the discoverers of a forgotten\\nlanguage, and of the buried history of\\nBabylon yet it was so.\\nDigging up a Buried City.\\nLayard was a youth of only twenty-two,\\ntraveling in the East, when he was possessed\\nwith a desire to penetrate the regions beyond\\nthe Euphrates. Accompanied by a single\\ncompanion, trusting to his arms for protec-\\ntion, and, what was better, to his cheerfulness,\\npoliteness, and chivalrous bearing, he passed\\nsafely amid tribes at deadly war with each\\nother and, after the lapse of many years,\\nwith comparatively slender means at his\\ncommand, but aided by application and per-\\nseverance, resolute will and purpose, and\\nalmost sublime patience borne up through-\\nout by his passionate enthusiasm for discovery\\nand research he succeeded in laying bare\\nand digging up an amount of historical treas-\\nures, the like of which has probably never\\nbefore been collected by the industry of any\\none man.\\nNot less than two miles of bas-reliefs were\\nthus brought to light by Mr. Layard. The\\nselection of these valuable antiquities, now\\nplaced in the British Museum, was found so\\ncuriously corroborative of the scriptural\\nrecords of events which occurred some three\\nthousand years ago, that they burst upon\\nthe world almost like a new revelation. And\\nthe story of the disentombment of these re-\\nmarkable works, as told by Mr. Layard\\nhimself in his Monuments of Nineveh, will\\nalways be regarded as one of the most\\ncharming and unaffected records which we\\npossess of individual enterprise, industry and\\nenergy.\\nThe career of Buffon, the celebrated writer\\non natural history, presents another remark-\\nable illustration of the power of patient indus-\\ntry, as well as of his own saying, that Genius\\nis patience. Notwithstanding the great re-\\nsults achieved by him in natural history,\\nBuffon, when a youth, was regarded as of\\nmediocre talents. His mind was slow in\\nforming itself, and slow in reproducing what\\nit had acquired. He was also constitution-\\nally indolent and being born to good estate,\\nit might be supposed that he would indulge\\nhis liking for ease and luxury. Instead of\\nwhich, he early formed the resolution of\\ndenying himself pleasure, and devoting him-\\nself to study and self-culture.\\nMorning Laziness.\\nRegarding time as a treasure that was\\nlimited, and finding that he was losing many\\nhours by lying abed in the mornings, he\\ndetermined to break himself of the habit\\nHe struggled hard against it for some time^\\nbut failed in being able to rise at the hour he\\nhad fixed. He then called his servant,\\nJoseph, to his help, and promised him the\\nreward of a crown every time that he suc-\\nceeded in getting him up before six. At\\nfirst, when called, Buffon declined to rise\\npleaded that he was ill, or pretended anger\\nat being disturbed; and, on finally getting\\nup, Joseph found that he had earned nothing\\nbut reproaches for having permitted his mas-\\nter to lie abed contrary to his express orders.\\nAt length the valet deterrnined to earn his\\ncrown and again and again he forced Buffon", "height": "3480", "width": "2355", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0286.jp2"}, "287": {"fulltext": "THE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\n251\\nto rise, notwithstanding his entreaties, expos-\\ntulations and threats of immediate discharge\\nfrom his service. One morning Buffon was\\nunusually obstinate, and Joseph found it\\nnecessary to resort to the extreme measure\\nof dashing a basin of ice-cold water under\\nthe bedclothes, the effect of which was in-\\nstantaneous. By the persistent use of such\\nmeans, Buffon at length conquered his habit,\\nand he was accustomed to say that he owed\\nto Joseph three or four volumes of his Natu-\\nral History.\\nMake Your Mark.\\nIn the quarries should you toil,\\nMake }-our mark\\nDo ou delve upon the soil.\\nMake your mark\\nIn whatever path you go.\\nIn whatever place 3-ou stand.\\nMoving swift or moving slow.\\nWith a firm and honest hand.\\nMake your mark.\\nShould opponents hedge your way,\\nMake your mark\\nWork by night or work by day,\\nMake your mark\\nStruggle manfully and well,\\nLet no obstacle oppose\\nNone, right-shielded, ever fell,\\nBy the weapons of his foes\\nMake your mark.\\nWhat though born a peasant s son,\\nMake your mark\\nGood by poor men can be done,\\nMake your mark\\nPeasants garbs may warm the cold,\\nPeasants words may calm a fear\\nBetter far than hoarding gold.\\nIs the drying of a tear\\nMake your mark.\\nLife is fleeting as a shade,\\nMake your mark\\nMarks of some kind must be made,\\nMake your mark\\nMake it while the arm is strong.\\nIn the golden hours of youth\\nNever, never make it wrong\\nMake it with the stamp of truth\\nMake your mark.\\nDavid Barker.\\nIf a man loses lus property at thirty or\\nforty years of age, it is only a sharp disci-\\npline generally, by which later he comes to\\nlarge success. It is all folly for a man or\\nwoman to sit down in mid-life discouraged.\\nThe marshals of Napoleon came to their\\ncommander and said; We have lost the\\nbattle and we are being cut to pieces.\\nNapoleon took his watch from his pocket,\\nand said It is only two o clock in the\\nafternoon. You have lost the battle, but we\\nhave time to win another. Charge upon the\\nfoe 1 Let our readers Avho have been\\nunsuccessful thus far in the battle of life not\\ngive up in despair. With energy and God s\\nblessing they may yet win a glorious victory.\\nDiscouragements of Columbus.\\nLet those who are disposed to faint under\\ndifficulties, in the prosecution of any great\\nand worthy undertaking, remember that\\neighteen years elapsed after the time that\\nColumbus conceived his enterprise before he\\nwas enabled to carry it into effect that the\\ngreater part of that time was passed in almost\\nhopeless solicitation, amid poverty, neglect,\\nand taunting ridicule that the prime of his\\nlife had wasted away in the struggle, and\\nthat when his perseverance was finally\\ncrowned with success, he was about in his\\nfifty-sixth year. His example should encour-\\nage the enterprising never to despair.\\nNot one man in a thousand who puts on\\nhis rubber overshoes and waterproof knows\\nthe story of the remarkable man who spent\\ntime, money and the most persevering labor\\nto perfect his inventions. But Charles Good-\\nyear was a man who, having undertaken a\\nthing, could not give it up. He struggled\\non for five years in debt, with a family, and\\nexposed to the derision or reproaches of his\\nfriends. Several times he was in New Haven\\njail for debt.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0287.jp2"}, "288": {"fulltext": "252\\nPERSEVERANCE.\\nHe sold his effects, he pawned his trinkets,\\nhe borrowed from his acquaintances, he re-\\nduced himself and his young family to the\\nseverest straits. When he could no longer\\nbuy wood to melt the rubber with, his chil-\\ndren used to go out into the fields and pick\\nup sticks for the purpose. Always suppos-\\ning himself to be on the point of succeeding,\\nhe thought the quickest way to get his family\\nout of their misery was to stickto India rubber.\\nHe did what he aimed to do, but it cost him\\nyears of poverty and toil. This one man s\\nperseverance produced one of the most\\nimportant articles of trade.\\nNever Give up the Ship.\\nDuring the battle between the fleets of\\nWilliam HI. and Louis XIV., in 1692,\\nCarter, rear-admiral of the Blue, broke the\\nFrench line at the onset and was mortally\\nwounded, and dying, exclaimed, Fight the\\nship as long as she can swim The victory\\nwas complete, the French flying in every\\ndirection. The French were attempting an\\ninvasion of England.\\nSertorious army being defeated by the\\nbarbarians, he endeavored to rouse them up\\nout of their despondence. For which pur-\\npose, a kw days after, he assembled all his\\nforces, and produced two horses before them\\nthe one old and feeble, the other large and\\nstrong, and remarkable beside for a fine flowing\\ntail. By the poor weak horse stood a robust,\\nable-bodied man, and by the strong horse\\nstood a little man of a very contemptible\\nappearance.\\nUpon a signal given, the strong man began\\nto pull and drag about the weak horse by\\nthe tail, as if he would pull it off; and the\\nlittle man to pluck off the hairs of the great\\nhorse s tail, one by one. The former tugged\\nand toiled a long time to the great diversion\\nof the spectators, and at last was forced to\\ngive up the point the latter, without any\\ndifficulty, soon stripped the great horse s tail\\nof all its hair.\\nThen Sertorius rose up and said You\\nsee, my friends and fellow-soldiers, how much-\\ngreater are the effects of perseverance than\\nthose of force, and that there are many\\nthings invincible in their collective capacity\\nand in a state of union which may gradually\\nbe overcome, when they are once separated.\\nIn short, perseverance is irresistible. By this\\nmeans time attacks and destroys the strongest\\nthings upon earth. Time, I say, who is the\\nbest friend and ally to those that have the\\ndiscernment to use it properly, and watch the\\nopportunities it presents, and the worst enemy\\nto those who will be rushing into action when\\nIt does not call them.\\nFighting for a Tombstone.\\nSays Gibbon: The enthusiasm of the\\nfirst crusade is a natural and simple event,\\nwhile hope was fresh, danger untried, and\\nenterprise congenial to the spirit of the\\ntimes. But the obstinate perseverance of\\nEurope may indeed excite our pity and\\nadmiration; that no instruction should have\\nbeen drawn from constant and adverse-\\nexperience; that the same confidence should\\nhave repeatedly grown from the same fail-\\nures; that six succeeding generations should\\nhave rushed headlong down the precipice\\nthat was open before them and that men of\\nevery condition should have staked their\\npublic and private fortunes on the desperate\\nadventure of possessing or recovering a\\ntombstone two thousand miles from their\\ncountry.\\nBenjamin Disraeli was a striking example\\nof patience and pluck. There was some\\ncuriosity respecting his dedut as an orator.\\nThe gentlemen of the House of Commons-\\nexpected that Disraeli would make a fooL", "height": "3497", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0288.jp2"}, "289": {"fulltext": "THE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\n253\\nk\\nof himself; and he did not disappoint them.\\nHis first effort was a ludicrous failure his\\nmaiden speech being received with loud\\nbursts of laughter. The newspapers said\\nof him that he went up like a rocket and\\ncame down like a stick.\\nWrithing under the shouts of laughter\\nwhich had drowned so much of his studied\\neloquence, he exclaimed, in almost a savage\\nvoice, I have begun several times many\\nthings, and have often succeeded at last. I\\nshall sit down now, but the time will come\\nwhen you will hear me. He afterward\\nbecame Prime Minister of England.\\nThe First Steamboat.\\nThe same lesson is illustrated in the life\\nof John Fitch. He, too, perseivered. We\\ncannot begin to relate the obstacles he en-\\ncountered. A considerable volume would\\nscarcely afford the requisite space. Poor,\\nragged and forlorn, jeered at, pitied as a\\nmadman, discouraged by the great, refused\\nby the rich, he and his few friends kept on,\\nuntil, in 1790, they had a steamboat running\\non the Delaware, which was the first steam-\\nboat ever constructed that answered the\\npurpose of one. It ran, with the tide, eight\\nmiles an hour, and six miles against it.\\nA few years ago one of the most famous\\nand popular of our American preachers was\\nDr. Nathan Bangs; when he began his\\ncareer he became despondent because of the\\nnumerous difficulties he experienced and the\\nabsence of desired success, and resolved to\\nabandon the ministry. A significant dream\\nrelieved him. He thought he was working\\nwith a pickaxe on the top of a basaltic rock.\\nHis muscular arm brought down stroke after\\nstroke for hours, but the rock was hardly\\nindented.\\nHe said to himself at last, It is useless\\nI will pick no more. Suddenly a stranger\\nof dignified mien stood by his side and\\nspoke to him. You will pick no more?\\nNo more. Were you not set to this\\ntask? Yes. And why abandon it?\\nMy work is vain; I make no impression\\non the rock.\\nSolemnly the stranger replied, What is\\nthat to you Your duty is to pick, whether\\nthe rock yields or not. Your work is in\\nyour own hands; the result is not. Work\\non He resumed his task. The first blow\\nwas given with almost superhuman force,\\nand the rock flew into a thousand pieces.\\nHe awoke, pursued his way back with fresh\\nzeal and energy, and a great revival followed.\\nFrom that day he never had even a temp-\\ntation to give up his commission.\\nThe Famous Grecian Orator.\\nNo ancient example of perseverance is\\nmore interesting than that of the great Gre-\\ncian orator, Demosthenes. The first essay\\nof his eloquence was against his guardians,\\nwhom he obliged to refund a part of his for-\\ntune. Encouraged by this success, he ven-\\ntured to speak before the people, but with\\nvery ill fortune. He had a weak voice, an\\nimpediment in his speech, and a very short\\nbreath; notwithstanding which, his periods\\nwere so long that he was often obliged to\\nstop in the midst of them to take breath.\\nThis occasioned his being hissed by the\\nwhole audience, from whence he retired dis-\\ncouraged, and determined to renounce forever\\na function of which he believed himself incapa-\\nble. One of his auditors, who, through all\\nthese imperfections, had observed an excel-\\nlent fund of genius in him, and a kind of\\neloquence which came very near that of\\nPericles, gave him new spirit from the grate-\\nful idea of so glorious a resemblance, and the\\ngood advice which he added to it.\\nHe ventured, therefore, to appear a second", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0289.jp2"}, "290": {"fulltext": "254\\nPERSEVERANCE.\\ntime before the people, and was no better\\nreceived than before. As he withdrew,\\nhanging down his head, and in the utmost\\nconfusion, Satyrus, one of the most excellent\\nactors of those times, who was his friend\\ngave him encouragement and advice. He\\nstammered to such a degree that he could\\nnot pronounce some letters, among others\\nthat with which the name of the art he\\nstudied begins and he was so short-breathed\\nthat he could not utter a whole period with-\\nout stopping.\\nHe at length overcame these obstacles by\\nputting small pebbles into his mouth, and\\npronouncing several verses in that manner\\nwithout interruption and that even when\\nwalking and going up steep and difficult\\nplaces so that, at last, no letter made him\\nhesitate, and his breath held out through the\\nlongest periods. He went also to the sea-\\nside, and while the waves were in the most\\nviolent agitation he pronounced harangues,\\nto accustom himself, by the confused noise\\nof the waters, to the roar of the people and\\nthe tumultuous cries of public assemblies.\\nDemosthenes took no less care of his\\nactions than of his voice. He had a large\\nlooking-glass in his house, which served to\\nteach him gesture, and at which he used to\\ndeclaim before he .spoke in public. To cor-\\nrect a fault which he had contracted by an\\nill habit, of continually shrugging his shoul-\\nders, he practised standing upright in a kind\\nof very narrow pulpit or rostrum, over which\\nhung a halbert, in such a manner that, if in\\nthe heat of action that motion escaped him,\\nthe point of the weapon might serve at the\\nsame time to admonish and correct him.\\nThe fact is, much more might be accom-\\nplished by the average man if he had General\\nGrant s invincible determination to fight it\\nout on this line if it takes all summer.\\nWANTED, A BOY.\\nWanted, a boy Well, how glad I am\\nTo know that I was the first to see\\nThe daily paper so early, too\\nFew boys are up tis lucky for me.\\nYou hurry away through quiet streets.\\nBreathlessly reaching the office door\\nWhere a boy was wanted, and lo you find\\nIt thronged and besieged by at least a score.\\nWanted, a boy So the place was gone\\nYou did not get it? Well, never mind.\\nThe world is large, and a vacant place\\nIs somewhere in it for you to find\\nPerhaps by long and devious ways,\\nWith perils to face, and battles to win.\\nObstacles great to be overcome.\\nBefore you reach it, and enter in.\\nPhilosophy surely wanted a boy.\\nWhile Franklin worked at a printer s case;\\nMechanics, when, low in the darkened mine.\\nBy an engine, Stephenson found his place\\nNature, while Linnaeus, crushed and tried\\nAs a cobbler, toiled out his sunless youtfa\\nFreedom, ere Washington reached her arms\\nFrom childhood, up by the way of truth.\\nWanted, a boy tis written above\\nCoveted places of highest renown\\nBut the ladder of labor must ever be trod\\nBy boyish feet, ere the sign comes down.\\nThere are humble names half hidden now\\nOn the school day-roll, mong many a score.\\nThat yet will shine as the lights of fame,\\nTill boys are wanted on earth no more.\\nThe forum is echoing burning words\\nOf orators destined to pass awa}-\\nYou will be wanted instead of them soon,\\nMen of the future are boys to-day.\\nThe watchmen standing on Zion s walls.\\nFaithfully doing the Master s will.\\nAre falling asleep as the years go by\\nWanted, a boy each place to fill.\\nMary B. REESB.", "height": "3497", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0290.jp2"}, "291": {"fulltext": "CHAPTER XV.\\nECONOMY.\\nO many persons have heard of\\nPoor Richard s Almanac, pub-\\nlished by Ben Franklin, and so\\nfew have ever had an oppor-\\ntunity of reading it, that we take\\npleasure in inserting it in this\\nchapter. It teaches the very\\nimportant lesson of economy and thrift, and\\nis full of quaint sayings and maxims of great\\nvalue.\\nFranklin entitles it, The Way to Wealth,\\nas Clearly Shown in the Preface of an old\\nPennsylvania Almanac. The sound sense\\nand practical wisdom of Poor Richard are\\nworthy of careful study and diligent practice.\\nThe Almanac purported to be the work of\\nRichard Saunders.\\nCourteous Reader: I have heard that\\nnothing gives an author so great pleasure as\\nto find his works respectfully quoted by\\nothers. Judge, then, how much I must have\\nbeen gratified by an incident I am going to\\nrelate to you. I stopped my horse, lately,\\nwhere a great number of people were col-\\nlected, at an auction of merchant s goods.\\nThe hour of the sale not being come, they\\nwere conversing on the badness of the times\\nand one of the company called to a plain,\\nclean old man, with white locks, Pray,\\nFather Abraham, what think you of the\\ntimes? Will not these heavy taxes quite\\nruin the country? How shall we ever be\\nable to pay them What would you advise\\nus to do\\nFather Abraham stood up, and replied,\\nIf you would have my advice, I will give i\u00c2\u00bb,\\nto you in short for a word to the wise i*\\nenough, as poor Richard says.\\nThey joined in desiring him to speak his\\nmind and, gathering round him, he pro-\\nceeded as follows\\nFriends, says he, the taxes are, indeed,\\nvery heavy, and, if those laid on by the\\ngovernment were the only ones we had to\\npay, we might more easily discharge them\\nbut we have many others, and much more\\ngrievous to some of us. We are taxed twice\\nas much by our idleness, three times as much\\nby our pride, and four times as much by our\\nfolly and from these taxes the commissioners\\ncannot ease or deliver us, by allowing an\\nabatement. However, let us hearken to good\\nadvice, and something may be done for us,\\nGod helps them that help themselves, as-\\npoor Richard says.\\nThe Sleeping Fox.\\nI It would be thought a hard govern-\\nment that should tax its people one-tenth\\npart of their time, to be employed in its-\\nservice but idleness taxes many of us much\\nmore sloth, by bringing on diseases, abso-\\nlutely shortens life. Sloth, like rust, con-\\nsumes faster than labor wears, while the used\\nkey is always bright, as poor Richard says.\\nBut dost thou love life? then do not\\nsquander time, for that is the stuff life is\\nmade of, as poor Richard says. How much\\nmore than is necessary do we spend in sleep\\nforgetting that the sleeping fox catches no\\n265", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0291.jp2"}, "292": {"fulltext": "TEACHING THE YOUNG ECONOMY.\\n256", "height": "3481", "width": "2461", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0292.jp2"}, "293": {"fulltext": "ECONOMY.\\n257\\npoultry, and that there will be sleeping\\nenough in the grave, as poor Richard says.\\nIf time be of all things the most precious,\\nwasting time must be, as poor Richard says,\\nthe greatest prodigality since, as he else-\\nwhere tells us, lost time is never found\\nagain, and what we call time enough always\\nproves little enough. Let us then up and\\nbe doing, and doing to the purpose so by\\ndiligence shall we do more with less per-\\nplexity. Sloth makes all things difficult,\\nbut industry all easy and he that riseth late\\nmust trot all day and shall scarce overtake\\nhis business at night while laziness travels\\nso slowly, that poverty soon overtakes him.\\nDrive thy business, let not that drive thee\\nand early to bed, and early to rise, makes a\\nman healthy, wealthy, and wise, as poor\\nRichard says.\\nNo Gains Without Pains.\\nSo what signifies wishing and hoping for\\nbetter times We may make these times\\nbetter, if we bestir ourselves. Industry need\\nnot wish, and he that lives upon hope will\\ndie fasting. There are no gains without\\npains then help hands, for I have no lands,\\nor, if I have, they are smartly taxed. He\\nthat hath a trade hath an estate; and, he\\nthat hath a calling hath an office of profit\\nand honor, as poor Richard says. But then\\nthe trade must be worked at, and the calling\\nwell followed, or neither the estate nor the\\noffice will enable us to pay our taxes.\\nIf we are industrious, we shall never\\nstarve for, at the workingman s house\\nhunger looks in, but dares not enter. Nor\\nwill the bailiff or the constable enter; for\\nindustry pays debts, while despair increaseth\\nthem. What though you have found no\\ntreasure, nor has any rich relation left you a\\nlegacy diligence is the mother of good\\nluck, and God gives all things to industry.\\nThen plough deep, while sluggards sleep, and\\nyou shall have corn to sell and to keep.\\nWork while it is called to-day for you know\\nnot how much you may be hindered to-\\nmorrow. One to-day is worth two to-mor-\\nrows, as poor Richard says and, further,\\nnever leave that till to-morrow which you\\ncan do to-day.\\nLittle Strokes Fell Great Oaks.\\nIf you were a servant, would you not be\\nashamed that a good master should catch\\nyou idle Are you then your own masters\\nBe ashamed to catch yourself idle, when there\\nis so much to be done for yourself, your\\nfamily, your country, and your king. Handle\\nyour tools without mittens remember that\\nthe cat in gloves catches no mice, as poor\\nRichard says. It is true, there is much to be\\ndone, and perhaps you are weak -handed\\nbut stick to it steadily, and you will see great\\neffects, for constant dropping wears away\\nstones and, by diligence and patience the\\nmouse ate in two the cable and little strokes\\nfell great oaks.\\nMethinks I hear some of you say, Must\\na man afford himself no leisure I will tell\\nthee, my friend, what poor Richard says.\\nEmploy thy time well, if thou meanest to\\ngain leisure and, since thou art not sure of\\na minute, throw not away an hour. Leisure\\nis time for doing something useful; this\\nleisure the diligent man will obtain, but the\\nlazy man never; for a life of leisure and a\\nlife of laziness are two things. Many, with-\\nout labor, would live by their wits only, but\\nthey break for want of stock whereas in-\\ndustry gives comfort, and plenty, and respect.\\nFly pleasures, and they will follow you.\\nThe diligent spinner has a large shift and,\\nnow I have a sheep and a cow, every one\\nbids me good-morrow.\\n2. But, with our industry, we must like-\\nk", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0293.jp2"}, "294": {"fulltext": "258\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nwise be steady, settled and careful, and over-\\nsee our own affairs with our own eyes, and\\nnot trust too much to others for, as poor\\nRichard says,\\nI never saw an oft-removed tree,\\nNor yet an oft-removed family,\\nThat throve so well as those that settled be.\\nAnd again, three removes is as bad as\\na fire; and again, keep thy shop, and thy\\nshop will keep thee; and again, if you\\nwould have your business done, go, if not,\\nsend. And again,\\nHe that by the plough would thrive\\nHimself must either hold or drive.\\nAnd again, the eye of a master will do\\nmore work than both his hands and again\\nwant of care does us more damage than\\nwant of knowledge and again, not to over-\\nsee workmen is to leave them your purse\\nopen. Trusting too much to others care is\\nthe ruin of many for, in the affairs of this\\nworld, men are saved, not by faith, but by\\nthe want of it but a man s own care is\\nprofitable for if you would have a faithfu\\nservant, and one that you like, serve yourself\\nHow the Rider Was Lost.\\nA little neglect may breed great mischief\\nfor want of a nail the shoe was lost, and for\\nwant of a shoe the horse was lost, and for\\nwant of a horse the rider was lost, being\\novertaken and slain by the enemy all for\\nwant of a little care about a horse-shoe nail.\\n3. So much for industry, my friends, and\\nattention to one s own business. But to\\nthese we must add frugality, if we would\\nmake our industry more certainly successful.\\nA man may, if he knows not how to save as\\nhe gets, keep his nose all his life to the\\ngrindstone, and die not worth a groat at last\\nA fat kitchen makes a lean will and again*\\nMany estates are spent in the getting,\\nSince women for tea forsook spinning and knitting,\\nAnd men for punch forsook hewing and splitting.\\nIf you would be wealthy, think of sav-\\ning, as well as of getting. The Indies have\\nnot made Spain rich, because her outgoes\\nare greater than her incomes.\\nSmall Leaks.\\nAway, then, with your expensive follies,\\nand you will not then have so much cause to\\ncomplain of hard times, heavy taxes, and\\nchargeable families for\\nWomen and wine, game and deceit,\\nMake the wealth small, and the want great.\\nAnd further, what maintains one vice\\nwould bring up two children. You may\\nthink, perhaps, that a little tea, or a little\\npunch now and then, diet a little more\\ncostly, clothes a little finer, and a little enter-\\ntainment now and then, can be no great\\nmatter. But remember, many a little makes\\na mickle. Beware of little expenses; a\\nsmall leak will sink a great ship, as poor\\nRichard says and again, who dainties love\\nshall beggars prove and, moreover, fools\\nmake feasts, and wise men eat them.\\nHere you are all got together to this sale\\nof fineries and knick-knacks. You call them\\ngoods but, if you do not take care, they will\\nprove evils to some of you. You expect\\nthey will be sold cheap, and perhaps they\\nmay, for less than they cost; but, if you\\nhave no occasion for them, they must be\\ndear to you. Remember what poor Richard\\nsays, buy what thou hast no need of, and\\nere long thou shalt sell thy necessaries.\\nAnd again, at a great pennyworth pause\\na while. He means that perhaps the cheap-\\nness is apparent only, and not real or the\\nbargain, by straitening thee in thy business,\\nmay do thee more harm than good. For,", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0294.jp2"}, "295": {"fulltext": "ECONOMY\\n259\\nin another place he says, many have been\\nruined by buying good pennyworths. Again,\\nit is foolish to lay out money in a purchase\\nof repentance and yet this folly is practised\\nevery day at auctions, for want of minding\\nthe almanac.\\nPoverty in Silks.\\nMany a one, for the sake of finery on the\\nback, have gone with a hungry belly, and\\nhalf starved their families silks and satins,\\nscarlet and velvets, put out the kitchen fire,\\nas poor Richard says. These are not the\\nnecessaries of life, they can scarcely be called\\nthe conveniences and yet, only because\\nthey look pretty, how many want to have\\nthem By these and other extravagances,\\nthe genteel are reduced to poverty, and\\nforced to borrow of those whom they for-\\nmerly despised, but who, through industry\\nand frugality, have maintained their standing;\\nin which case it appears plainly that a.\\nploughman on his legs is higher than a gen-\\ntleman on his knees, as poor Richard says.\\nPerhaps they have had a small estate left\\nthem, which they knew not the getting of\\nthey think it is day, and it will never be\\nnight that a little to be spent out of so\\nmuch is not worth minding but always\\ntaking out of the meal-tub, and never putting\\nin, soon comes to the bottom, as poor Rich-\\nard says and then, when the well is dry,\\nthey know the worth of water.\\nBut this they might have known before, if\\nthey had taken his advice if you would\\nknow the value of money, go and try to\\nborrow some for he that goes a borrowing\\ngoes a sorrowing, as poor Richard says;\\nand indeed so does he that lends to such\\npeople, when he goes to get it again. Poor\\nDick further advises, and says\\nFond pride of dress is sure a curse\\nEre fancy you consult, consult your purse.\\nAnd again, pride is as loud a beggar as want,\\nand a great deal more saucy. When you\\nhave bought one fine thing, you must buy\\nten more, that your appearance may be all\\nof a piece but poor Dick says, it is easier\\nto suppress the first desire than to satisfy all\\nthat follow it and it is as truly folly for\\nthe poor to ape the rich, as for the frog to\\nswell in order to equal the ox.\\nVessels large may venture more,\\nBut little boats should keep near shore.\\nIt is, however, a folly soon punished;\\nfor, as poor Richard says, pride that dines\\non vanity sups on contempt; pride break-\\nfasted with plenty, dined with poverty, and\\nsupped with infamy. And, after all, of\\nwhat use is this pride of appearance, for\\nwhich so much is risked, so much is suffered\\nIt cannot promote health, nor ease pain it\\nmakes no increase of merit in the person; it\\ncreates envy, it hastens misfortune.\\nRunning in Debt.\\nBut what madness must it be to run in\\ndebt for these superfluities We are offered\\nby the terms of this sale six months credit\\nand that perhaps has induced some of us to\\nattend it, because we cannot spare the ready\\nmoney, and hope now to be fine without it.\\nBut, ah think what you do when you run\\ninto debt you give to another power over\\nyour liberty.\\nIf you cannot pay at the time, you will\\nbe ashamed to see your creditor, you will be\\nin fear when you speak to him, when you\\nwill make poor, pitiful, sneaking excuses,\\nand by degrees come to lose your veracity,\\nand sink into base, downright lying for the\\nsecond vice is lying, the first is running in\\ndebt, as poor Richard says and again, to\\nthe same purpose, lying rides upon debt s\\nback whereas a free-born Englishman", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0295.jp2"}, "296": {"fulltext": "260\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nought not to be ashamed nor afraid to see or\\nspeak to any man living.\\nBut poverty often deprives a man of all\\nspirit and virtue. It is hard for an empty\\nbag to stand upright. What would you\\nthink of that prince, or of that government,\\nwho should issue an edict forbidding you to\\ndress like a gentleman or gentlewoman, on\\npain of imprisonment or servitude Would\\nyou not say that you were free, have a right\\nto dress as you please, and that such an\\nedict would be a breach of your privileges,\\nand such a government tyrannical\\nIn the Clutches of Creditors.\\nAnd yet, you are about to put yourself\\nunder that tyranny when you run in debt\\nfor such dress. Your creditor has authority,\\nat his pleasure, to deprive you of your\\nliberty, by confining you in jail for life, or by\\nselling you for a servant, if you should not\\nbe able to pay him. When you have got\\nyour bargain, you may, perhaps, think little\\nof payment; but, as poor Richard says,\\ncreditors have better memories than debtors\\ncreditors are a superstitious sect, great obser-\\nvers of set days and times. The day comes\\nround before you are aware, and the demand\\nis made before you are prepared to satisfy it\\nor, if you bear your debt in mind, the term,\\nwhich at first seemed so long, will, as it les-\\nsens, appear extremely short time will seem\\nto have added wings to his heels, as well as\\nhis shoulders. Those have a short Lent\\nwho owe money to be paid at Easter.\\nAt present, perhaps, you may think your-\\nselves in thriving circumstances, and that you\\ncan bear a little extravagance without injury\\nbut\\nFor age and want save while you may,\\nNo morning sun lasts a whole day.\\nGain may be temporary and uncertain, but\\never, while you live, expense is constant and\\ncertain and it is easier to build two chim-\\nneys than to keep one in fuel, as poor Rich-\\nard says so, rather go to bed supperless\\nthan rise in debt.\\nGet what you can, and what you get hold,\\nTis the stone that will turn all your lead into gold.\\nAnd, when you have got the philosopher s\\nstone, sure you will no longer complain of\\nbad times, or the difficulty of paying taxes.\\n4. This doctrine, my friends, is reason\\nand wisdom but, after all, do not depend\\ntoo much upon your own industry, and fru-\\ngality and prudence, though excellent things\\nfor they may all be blasted without the bless-\\ning of Heaven and therefore ask that\\nblessing humbly, and be not uncharitable to\\nthose that at present seem to want it, but\\ncomfort and help them. Remember Job\\nsuffered, and was afterwards prosperous.\\nAnd now, to conclude, experience keeps\\na dear school, but fools will learn in no other,\\nas poor Richard says, and scarce in that\\nfor, it is true, we may give advice, but we\\ncannot give conduct however, remember\\nthis, they that will not be counselled cannot\\nbe helped and further, that if you will not\\nhear reason she will surely rap your knuckles,\\nas poor Richard says.\\nPractised the Contrary.\\nThus the old gentleman ended his har-\\nangue. The people heard it, and approved\\nthe doctrine and immediately practised the\\ncontrary, just as if it had been a common\\nsermon; for the auction opened, and they\\nbegan to buy extravagantly. I found the\\ngood man had thoroughly studied my al-\\nmanacs, and digested all I had dropped on\\nthose topics during the course of twenty-five\\nyears. The frequent mention he made of\\nme must have tired any one else but my\\nvanity was wonderfully delighted with it,", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0296.jp2"}, "297": {"fulltext": "THE FRUIT-SELLER COUNTING HER MONEY.\\n261", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0297.jp2"}, "298": {"fulltext": "262\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nthough I was conscious that not a tenth part\\nof the wisdom was my own which he ascribed\\nto me, but rather the gleanings that I have\\nmade of the sense of all ages and nations.\\nHowever, I resolved to be the better for the\\necho of it and, though I had at first deter-\\nmined to buy stuff for a new coat, I went\\naway resolved to wear my old one a little\\nlonger. Reader, if thou wilt do the same,\\nthy profit will be as great as\\nRichard Saunders\\nA Pithy Old Fable.\\nFranklin s advice suggests the old fable\\nconcerning the grasshopper and the bees-\\nA grasshopper, half starved with cold and\\nhunger, came to a well-stored bee-hive at\\nthe approach of winter, and humbly begged\\nthe bees to relieve his wants with a few drops\\nof honey.\\nOne of the bees asked him how he had\\nspent his time all the summer, and why he\\nhad not laid up a store of food like them.\\nTruly, said he, I spent my time very\\nmerrily, in drinking, dancing, and singing,\\nand never once thought of winter.\\nOur plan is very different, said the bee:\\nwe work hard in the summer to lay by a\\nstore of food against the season when we\\nforesee we shall want it but those who do\\nnothing but drink, and dance, and sing in the\\nsummer must expect to starve in the winter.\\nCompetence and comfort lie within the\\nreach of most people, were they to take the\\nadequate means to secure and enjoy them.\\nMen who are paid good wages might also\\nbecome capitalists, and take their fair share\\nin the improvement and well-being of the\\nworld. But it is only by the exercise of\\nlabor, energy, honesty, and thrift that they\\ncan advance their own position or that of\\ntheir class.\\nSociety at present suffers far more from\\nwaste of money than from want of money.\\nIt is easier to make money than to know\\nhow to spend it. It is not what a man gets\\nthat constitutes his wealth, but his manner\\nof spending and economizing. And when a\\nman obtains by his labor more than enough\\nfor his personal and family wants, and can\\nlay by a little store of savings besides, he\\nunquestionably possesses the elements of\\nsocial well-being. The savings may amount\\nto little, but they may be sufficient to make\\nhim independent.\\nAbove Poverty.\\nTo catch Dame Fortune s golden smile,\\nAssiduous wait upon her\\nAnd gather gain by ev ry wile\\nThat s justified by honor\\nNot for to hide it in a hedge.\\nNor for a train attendant\\nBut for the glorious privilege\\nOf being independent.\\nRobert Burns.\\nThrift of time is equal to thrift of money.\\nFranklin said, Time is gold. If one\\nwishes to earn money, it may be done by\\nthe proper use of time. But time may also\\nbe .spent in doing many good and noble\\nactions. It may be spent in learning, in\\nstudy, in art, in science, in literature. Time\\ncan be economized by system.\\nSystem is an arrangement to secure cer-\\ntain ends, so that no time may be lost in\\naccomplishing them. Every business man\\nmust be systematic and orderly; so must\\nevery housewife. There must be a place\\nfor everything, and everything in its place.\\nThere must also be a time for everything,,\\nand everything must be done in time.\\nIt is not necessary to show that economy\\nis useful. Nobody denies that thrift may be\\npracticed. We see numerous examples of\\nit. What many men have already done, all\\nother men jnay do. Nor is thrift a painful", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0298.jp2"}, "299": {"fulltext": "ECONOMY.\\nvirtue. On the contrary, it enables us to\\navoid much contempt and many indignities.\\nIt requires us to deny ourselves, but not to\\nabstain from any proper enjoyment. It pro-\\nvides many honest pleasures, of which thrift-\\nlessness and extravagance deprive us.\\nHabit of Economizing.\\nLet no man say that he cannot economize.\\nThere are few persons that could not con-\\ntrive to save something weekly. In twenty\\nyears one dollar saved weekly would amount\\nto one thousand and forty dollars, to say\\nnothing of interest. Some may say that\\nthey cannot save nearly so much. Well\\nbegin somewhere at all events, make a\\nbeginning. It is the habit of economizing\\nand denying one s self that needs to be\\nformed.\\nEconomy does not require superior cour-\\nage, nor superior intellect, nor any super-\\nhuman virtue. It merely requires common\\nsense, and the power of resisting selfish\\nenjoyments. In fact, thrift is merely com-\\nmon sense in every-day working action. It\\nneeds no fervent resolution, but only a little\\npatient self-denial. Begin is its device The\\nmore the habit of thrift is practiced, the easier\\nit becomes, and the sooner it compensates\\nthe self-denier for the sacrifices which it has\\nimposed.\\nThe question may be asked Is it pos-\\nsible for a man working for small wages to\\nsave anything, and lay it by in a savings-\\nbank, when he requires every penny for the\\nmaintenance of his family? But the fact re-\\nmains that it is done by many industrious\\nand sober men that they do deny them-\\nselves, and put their spare earnings into\\nsavings-banks and the other receptacles\\nprovided for poor men s savings. And if\\nsome can do this, all may do it under similar\\ncircumstances, without depriving themselves\\n263\\nany real enjoy-\\nof any genuine pleasure\\nment.\\nHow intensely selfish is it for anyone in\\nthe receipt of good pay to spend everything\\nupon himself; or, if he has a family, to spend\\nhis whole earnings from week to week, and\\nlay nothing by. When we hear that a man\\nwho has been in the receipt of a good salary\\nhas died and left nothing behind him that\\nhe has left his wife and family destitute left\\nthem to chance to live or perish anywhere\\nwe cannot but regard it as the most selfish\\nthriftlessness. And yet comparatively little\\nis thought of such cases. Perhaps the hat\\ngoes round. Subscriptions may produce\\nsomething ^perhaps nothing; and the ruined\\nremnants of the unhappy family sink into\\npoverty and destitution.\\nLaying Up for a Rainy Day.\\nYet the merest prudence would, to a great\\nextent, have obviated this result. The cur-\\ntailment of any sensual or selfish enjoyment\\nwould enable a man, in the course of years,\\nto save at least something for others, ins jaJ\\nof wasting it on himself It is, in fact, the\\nabsolute duty of the poorest man to provide^\\nin however slight a degree, for the support\\nof his family in the season of sickness and\\nhelplessness, which often comes upon men\\nwhen they least expect such a visitation.\\nComparatively few people can be rich but\\nmost have it in their power to acquire, by\\nindustry and economy, sufficient to meet their\\npersonal wants. They may even become the\\npossessors of savings sufficient to secure them\\nagainst penury and poverty in their old age.\\nIt is not, however, the want of opportunity,\\nbut the want of will, that stands in the way\\nof economy. Men may labor unceasingly\\nwith hand or head but they cannot abstain\\nfrom spending too freely and living too\\nhighly.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0299.jp2"}, "300": {"fulltext": "264\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nThe majority prefer the enjoyment of\\npleasure to the practice of self-denial. With\\nthe mass of men the animal is paramount.\\nThey often spend all that they earn. But it\\nis not merely the working people who are\\nspendthrifts. We hear of men who for years\\nhave been earning and spending thousands a\\nyear, who suddenly die, leaving their children\\npenniless. Everybody knows of such cases.\\nAt their death the very furniture of the house\\nthey have lived in belongs to others. It is\\nsold to pay their funeral expenses, and the\\ndebts which they have incurred during their\\nthriftless life-time.\\nMoney represents a multitude of objects\\nwithout value or without real utility but it\\nalso represents something much more pre-\\ncious, and that is independence. In this\\nlight it is of great moral importance.\\nAs a guarantee of independence, the\\nmodest and plebian quality of economy is\\nat once ennobled and raised to the rank of\\nthe most meritorious of virtues.\\nLiving from Hand to Mouth.\\nNever treat money affairs with levity,\\nsaid Bulwer money is character. Some\\nof man s best qualities depend upon the right\\nuse of money such as his generosity, ben-\\nevolence, justice, honesty, and forethought.\\nMany of his worst qualities also originate in\\nthe bad use of money such as greed, miser-\\nliness, injustice, extravagance and improvi-\\ndence.\\nNo class ever accomplished anything that\\nlived from hand to mouth. People who\\nspend all that they earn are ever hanging on\\nthe brink of destitution. They must neces-\\nsarily be weak and impotent the slaves of\\ntime and circumstance. They keep them-\\nselves poor. They lose self-respect, as well\\nas the respect of others. It is impossible\\nlliat they can be free and independent. To\\nbe thriftless is enough to deprive one of all\\nmanly spirit and virtue.\\nBut a man with something saved, no\\nmatter how little, is in a different position.\\nThe little capital he has stored up is always\\na source of power. He is no longer the\\n.sport of time and fate. He can boldly look\\nthe world in the face. He is, in a manner,\\nhis own master. He can dictate his own\\nterms. He can neither be bought nor sold.\\nHe can look forward with cheerfulness to an\\nold age of comfort and happiness.\\nWhat About To-Morrow?\\nAs men become wise and thoughtful, they\\ngenerally become provident and frugal. A\\nthoughtless man, like a savage, spends as he\\ngets, thinking nothing of to-morrow, of the\\ntime of adversity, or of the claims of those\\nwhom he has made dependent on him. But\\na wise man thinks of the future; he prepares\\nin good time for the evil day that may come\\nupon him and his family and he provides\\ncarefully for those who are near and dear to\\nhim.\\nWhat a serious responsibility does the man\\nincur who marries Not many seriously\\nthink of this responsibility. Perhaps this is\\nwisely ordered. For much .serious thinking\\nmight end in the avoidance of married life\\nand its responsibilities. But, once married,\\na man ought forthwith to determine that, so\\nfar as his own efforts are concerned, want\\nshall never enter his household and that\\nhis children shall not, in the event of his\\nbeing removed from the scene of life and\\nlabor, be left a burden upon society.\\nEconomy with this object is an important\\nduty. Without economy, no man can be\\njust no man can be honest. Improvidence\\nis cruelty to women and children, though the\\ncruelty is born of ignorance. A father spends\\nhis surplus means in drink, providing little", "height": "3496", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0300.jp2"}, "301": {"fulltext": "ECONOMY.\\n265\\nand saving nothing and then he dies, leav-\\ning his destitute family his life-long victims.\\nCan any form of cruelty surpass this Yet\\nthis reckless, course is pursued to a large\\nextent. Men live beyond their means.\\nThey live extravagantly. They are ambi-\\ntious of glare and glitter, frivolity and pleas-\\nure. They struggle to be rich, that they\\nmay have the means of spending of having\\na good time.\\nLiving at High-Pressure.\\nThinking people believe that life is now\\ntoo fast, and that we are living at high-\\npressure. In short, we live extravagantly.\\nWe live beyond our means. We throw away\\nour earnings, and often throw our lives after\\nthem.\\nMany persons are diligent enough in\\nmaking money, but do not know how to\\neconomize it, or how to spend it. They have\\nsufficient skill and industry to do the one,\\nbut they want the necessary wisdom to do\\nthe other. The temporary passion for enjoy-\\nment seizes us, and we give way to it without\\nregard to consequences. And yet it may be\\nmerely the result of forgetfulness, and may\\nbe easily controlled by firmness of will, and\\nby energetic resolution to avoid the occa-\\nsional causes of expenditure for the future.\\nThe habit of saving arises, for the most\\npart, in the desire to ameliorate our social\\ncondition, as well as to ameliorate the condi-\\ntion of those who are dependent upon us.\\nIt dispenses with everything which is not\\nessential, and avoids all methods of living\\nthat are wasteful and extravagant. A pur-\\nchase made at the lowest price will be dear,\\nif it be a superfluity. Little expenses lead to\\ngreat. Buying things that are not wanted\\nsoon accustoms us to prodigality in other\\nrespects.\\nCicero said, Not to have a mania for\\nbuying, is to possess a revenue. Many are\\ncarried away by the habit of bargain-buying.\\nHere is something wonderfully cheap let\\nus buy it. Have you any use for it?\\nNo, not at present; but it is sure to come\\nin use sometime. Fashion runs in this\\nhabit of buying. Some buy old china as\\nmuch as will furnish a china-shop. Others\\nbuy old pictures :old furniture all great\\nbargains There would be little harm in\\nbuying these old things, if they were not so\\noften bought at the expense of the connois-\\nseur s creditors. Horace Walpole once said,\\nI hope that there will not be another sale,\\nfor I have not an inch of room nor a farthing\\nleft.\\nMaking Hay While the Sun Shines.\\nMen must prepare in youth and in middle\\nage the means for enjoying old age pleas-\\nantly and happily. There can be nothing\\nmore distressing than to see an old man who\\nhas spent the greater part of his life in well-\\npaid-for labor, reduced to the necessity of beg-\\nging for bread, and relying entirely upon the\\ncommiseration of his neighbors or upon the\\nbounty of strangers. Such a consideration\\nas this should inspire men in early life with a\\ndetermination to work and to save, for the\\nbenefit of themselves and their families in\\nlater years.\\nIt is, in fact, in youth that economy should\\nbe practiced, and in old age that men should\\ndispense liberally, provided they do not exceed\\ntheir income. The young man has a long\\nfuture before him, during which he may\\nexercise the principles of economy while the\\nother is reaching the end of his career, and\\ncan carry nothing out of the world with him.\\nThis, however, is not the usual practice.\\nThe young man now spends, or desires to\\nspend, quite as liberally, and often much\\nmore liberally than his father, who is about", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0301.jp2"}, "302": {"fulltext": "20(3\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nto end his career. He begins life where his\\nfather left off. He spends more than his\\nfather did at his age, and soon finds himself\\nup to his ears in debt. To satisfy his incess-\\nant wants, he resorts to unscrupulous means\\nand illicit gains. He tries to make money\\nrapidly he speculates, overtrades, and is\\nspeedily wound up. Thus he obtains expe-\\nrience; but it is the result, not of well-doing,\\nbut of ill-doing.\\nSocrates recommends the fathers of fami-\\nlies to observe the practice of their thrifty\\nneighbors of those who spend their means\\nto the best advantage and to profit by their\\nexample. Thrift is essentially practical, and\\ncan best be taught by facts. Two men earn,\\nsay, three dollars a day. They are in pre-\\ncisely the same condition as respects family\\nliving and expenditure. Yet the one says he\\ncannot save, and does not while the other\\nsays he can save, and regularly deposits\\npart of his savings in a savings-bank and\\neventually becomes a capitalist.\\nThe Source of W^ell-Being.\\nSamuel Johnson fully knew the straits of\\npoverty. He once signed his name Impran-\\nsus, or Dinnerless. He had walked the\\nstreets with Savage, not knowing where to\\nlay his head at night. Johnson never forgot\\nthe poverty through which he passed in his\\nearly life, and he was always counselling his\\nfriends and readers to avoid it. Like Cicero,\\nhe averred that the best source of wealth or\\nwell-being was economy. He called it the\\ndaughter of Prudence, the sister of Temper-\\nance, and the mother of Liberty.\\nPoverty, he said, takes away so many\\nmeans of doing good, and produces so much\\ninability to resist evil, both natural and moral,\\nthat it is by all virtuous means to be avoided.\\nResolve, then, not to be poor; whatever you\\nhave, spend less. Frugality is not only the\\nbasis of quiet, but of beneficence. No man\\ncan help others who wants help himself: we\\nmust have enough before we have to spare,\\nAnd again he said, Poverty is a great\\nenemy to human happiness. It certamly\\ndestroys liberty, and it makes some virtues\\nimpracticable, and others extremely difficult.\\nfor without economy none can be rich, ana\\nwith it few can be poor.\\nWhen economy is looked upon as a thing\\nthat must be practiced, it will never be felt as\\na burden and those who have not before\\nobserved it, will be astonished to find what a\\nfew pennies or dollars laid aside weekly will\\ndo toward securing moral elevation, mental\\nculture, and personal independence.\\nThere is a dignity in every attempt to\\neconomize. Its very practice is improving.\\nIt indicates self-denial, and imparts strength\\nto the character. It produces a well-regu-\\nlated mind. It fosters temperance. It is\\nbased on forethought. It makes prudence\\nthe dominating characteristic. It gives virtue\\nthe mastery over self-indulgence. Above all,\\nit secures comfort, drives away care, and dis-\\npels many vexations and anxieties which\\nmight otherwise prey upon us.\\nAn employer recommended one of his\\nworkmen to lay by something for a rainy\\nday. Shortly after, the master asked the\\nman how much he had added to his store.\\nFaith, nothing at all, said he; I did as\\nyou bid me; but it rained very hard yester-\\nday, and it all went in drink\\nLook at the Pennies.\\nLetters joined make words,\\nAnd words to books may grow\\nAs flake on flake, descending.\\nForms an avalanche of snow.\\nA single utterance may good\\nOr evil thoughts inspire\\nOne little spark, enkindled,\\nMay set a town on fire.", "height": "3481", "width": "2356", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0302.jp2"}, "303": {"fulltext": "ECONOMY.\\n267\\nWhat volumes may be written\\nWith little drops of ink\\nHow small a leak, unnoticed,\\nA mighty ship will sink\\nA tiny insect s labor\\nMakes the coral strand,\\nAnd mighty seas are girdled\\nWith grains of golden sand.\\nA daily penny, saved,\\nA fortune may begin\\nA daily penny, squandered,\\nMay lead to vice and sin.\\nOur life is made entirely\\nOf moments multiplied,\\nAs little streamlets, joining,\\nForm the ocean s tide.\\nThe methods of practicing economy are\\nvery simple. Spend less than you earn.\\nThat is the first rule. A portion should\\nalways be set apart for the future. The\\nperson who spends more than he earns is a\\nfool. The civil law regards the spendthrift\\nas akin to the lunatic, and frequently takes\\nfrom him the management of his own affairs.\\nA Heavy Burden.\\nThe next rule is, to pay ready money,\\nand never, on any account, to run into debt.\\nThe person who runs into debt is apt to get\\ncheated; and if he runs into debt to any ex-\\ntent, he will himself be apt to get dishonest.\\nWho pays what he owes, enriches himself\\nThe next is, never to anticipate uncertain\\nprofits by expending them before they are\\nsecured. The profits may never come, and\\nin that case you will have taken upon your-\\nself a load of debt which you may never get\\nrid of It will sit upon your shoulders like\\nthe old man in Sindbad.\\nAnother method of economy is, to keep\\na regular account of all that you earn and\\nof all that you expend. An orderly man\\nwill know beforehand what he requires, and\\nwill be provided with the necessary means\\nfor obtaining it. Thus his domestic budget\\nwill be balanced, and his expenditure kept\\nwithin his income.\\nJohn Wesley regularly adopted this course.\\nAlthough he possessed a small income, he\\nalways kept his eyes upon the state of his\\naffairs. A year before his death, he wrote,\\nwith a trembling hand, in his Journal of\\nExpenses For more than eighty-six years\\nI have kept my accounts exactly. I do not\\ncare to continue to do so any longer, having\\nthe conviction that I economize all that I\\nobtain, and give all that I can that is to\\nsay, all that I have.\\nKeep Your Eyes Open.\\nBesides these methods of economy, the\\neye of the employer is always necessary to\\nsee that nothing is lost, that everything is\\nput to its proper use and kept in its proper\\nplace, and that all things are done decently\\nand in order. It does no dishonor to even\\nthe highest individuals to take a personal\\ninterest in their own affairs. And with per-\\nsons of moderate means, the necessity for\\nthe eye of the employer overlooking every-\\nthing, is absolutely necessary for the proper\\nconduct of business.\\nIt is difficult to fix the precise limits of\\neconomy. Bacon says that if a man would\\nlive well within his income, he ought not to\\nexpend more than one-half and save the rest.\\nThis is perhaps too exacting; and Bacon\\nhimself did not follow his own advice. What\\nproportion of one s income should be ex-\\npended on rent? That depends upon cir-\\ncumstances. It is, at all events, better to\\nsave too much than spend too much. One\\nmay remedy the first defect, but not so easily\\nthe latter. Wherever there is a large family,\\nthe more money that is put to one side and\\nsaved, the better.\\nEconomy is necessary to the moderately", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0303.jp2"}, "304": {"fulltext": "268\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nrich as well as to the comparatively poor\\nman. Without economy, a man cannot be\\ngenerous. He cannot take part in the\\ncharitable work of the world. If he spends\\nall that he earns, he can help nobody. He\\ncannot properly educate his children, nor put\\nthem in the way of starting fairly in the\\nbusiness of life. Even the example of\\nBacon shows that the loftiest intelligence\\ncannot neglect thrift without peril. But\\nthousands of witnesses daily testify that men\\neven of the most moderate intelligence can\\npractice the virtue with success.\\nTo save money for avaricious purposes is\\naltogether different from saving it for econ-\\nomical purposes. The saving may be ac-\\ncomplished in the same manner by wasting\\nnothing and saving everything. But here\\nthe comparison ends. The miser s only\\npleasure is in saving. The prudent econo-\\nmist spends what he can afford for comfort\\nand enjoyment, and saves a surplus for some\\nfuture time.\\nThe Golden Calf.\\nThe avaricious person makes gold his\\nidol it is his molten calf, before which he\\nconstantly bows down whereas the thrifty\\nperson regards it as a useful instrument, and\\nas a means of promoting his own happiness\\nand the happiness of those who are dependent\\nupon him. The miser is never satisfied. He\\namasses wealth that he can never consume,\\nbut leaves it to be squandered by others,\\nprobably by spendthrifts whereas the econo-\\nmist aims at securing a fair share of the\\nworld s wealth and comfort, without any\\nthought of amassing a fortune.\\nIt is the duty of all persons to economize\\ntheir means of the young as well as of the\\nold. Is a man married Then the duty of\\neconomy is still more binding. His wife and\\nchildren plead to him most eloquently. Are\\nthey, in the event of his early death, to be\\nleft to buffet with the world unaided The\\nhand of charity is cold, the gifts of charity\\nare valueless compared with the gains of\\nindustry and the honest savings of frugal\\nlabor, which carry with them blessings and\\ncomforts, without inflicting any wound upon\\nthe feelings of the helpless and bereaved.\\nLet every man, therefore, who can, en-\\ndeavor to economize and to save; not to\\nhoard, but to nurse his little savings, for the\\nsake of promoting the welfare and happiness\\nof himself while here, and of others when he\\nhas departed.\\nHow to Secure Comfort.\\nThere is a dignity in the very effort to save\\nwith a worthy purpose, even though the\\nattempt should not be crowned with eventual\\nsuccess. It produces a well regulated mind\\nit gives prudence a triumph over extrava-\\ngance it gives virtue the mastery over vice;\\nit puts the passions under control it drives\\naway care it secures comfort.\\nSaved money, however little, will serve to\\ndry up many a tear will ward off many\\nsorrows and heart-burnings, which otherwise\\nmight prey upon us. Possessed of a little\\nstore of capital, a man walks with a lighter\\nstep, his heart beats more cheerily. When\\ninterruption of work or adversity happens,\\nhe can meet it he can recline on his capital,\\nwhich will either break his fall or prevent it\\naltogether.\\nThere are, of course, many failures in the\\nworld. The man who looks to others for\\nhelp, instead of relying on himself, will fail.\\nThe man who is undergoing the process oi\\nperpetual waste will fail. The miser, the\\nscrub, the extravagant, the thriftless, will\\nnecessarily fail. Indeed, most people fail\\nbecause they do not deserve to succeed.\\nThey set about their work in the wrong way,", "height": "3480", "width": "2336", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0304.jp2"}, "305": {"fulltext": "ECONOMY.\\n269\\nand no amount of experience seems to\\nimprove them. There is not so much in hick\\nas some people profess to beheve.\\nLuck is only another word for good\\nmanagement in practical affairs. Richelieu\\nused to say that he would not continue to\\nemploy an unlucky man in other words, a\\nman wanting in practical qualities, and unable\\nto profit by experience for failures in the\\npast are very often the auguries of failures\\nin the future.\\nHe Put Out the Candle.\\nThomas Guy was so complete an exemplar\\nof economy, that the celebrated Vulture\\nHopkins once called upon him to learn a\\nlesson in the art of saving. On being intro-\\nduced into the parlor, Guy, not knowing his\\nvisitor, lighted a candle and then Hopkins\\nsaid, Sir, I always thought myself perfect\\nin the art of getting and husbanding money,\\nbut being told that you far exceed me, I have\\ntaken the liberty of waiting upon you to be\\nsatisfied on this subject.\\nIf that is all your business, repHed Guy,\\nwe can as well talk it over in the dark as in\\nthe light, at the same time carefully putting\\nout his farthing candle with the extinguisher.\\nThis was evidence enough to Hopkins, who\\nacknowledged Guy to be his master, and\\ntook his leave.\\nMacaulay in his Life of Frederick the\\nGreat, says: Every seventh man in the\\nvigor of life was a soldier army expenses\\nenormous. In order that it might not be\\nutterly ruinous, it was necessary that every\\nother expense should be cut down to the\\nlowest possible point. Accordingly, Fred-\\nerick, though his dominions bordered on the\\nsea, had no navy. He neither had nor\\nwished to have colonies. His judges, his\\nfiscal officers, were meanly paid. His min-\\nisters at foreign courts walked on foot, or\\ndrove shabby old carriages till the axletrees\\ngave way. Even to his highest diplomatic\\nagents, who resided at London and Paris, he\\nallowed less than ^5000 a year.\\nThe royal household was managed with\\na frugality unusual in the establishments of\\nopulent subjects unexampled in any other\\npalace. The king loved good eating and\\ndrinking, and during a great part of his life\\ntook pleasure in seeing his table surrounded\\nby guests yet the whole charge of his\\nkitchen was brought within the sum of\\n10,000 a year. He examined every extra-\\nordinary item with a care which might be\\nthought to suit the mistress of a boarding-\\nhouse better than a great prince.\\nA Thrifty Ruler.\\nGibbon in his Rise and Fall of the\\nRoman Empire gives an illustrious ex-\\nample of thrift: John Ducas Vataces, ruler\\nof the Eastern Empire in 1222, rescued the\\nprovinces from national and foreign usurpers.\\nThe calamities of the times had wasted the\\nnumbers and the substance of the Greeks;\\nthe motives and the means of agriculture\\nwere extirpated; and the most fertile lands\\nwere left without cultivation or inhabitants.\\nA portion of this vacant property was occu-\\npied and improved by the command, and for\\nthe benefit, of the emperor; a powerful hand\\nand a vigilant eye supplied and surpassed^\\nby a skilful management, the minute dili-\\ngence of a private farmer; the royal domain\\nbecame the garden and granary of Asia-\\nand without impoverishing the people, the\\nsovereign acquired a fund of innocent and\\nproductive wealth.\\nAccording to the nature of the soil, his\\nlands were sown with corn or planted with\\nvines; the pastures were filled with horses\\nand oxen, with sheep and hogs; and when\\nVataces presented to the empress a crown", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0305.jp2"}, "306": {"fulltext": "270\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nof diamonds and pearls, he informed her,\\nwith a smile, that this precious ornament\\narose from the sale of the eggs of his\\ninnumerable poultry.\\nThe produce of his domain was applied\\nto the maintenance of his palace and hos-\\npitals, the calls of dignity and benevolence;\\nthe lesson was still more useful than the\\nrevenue; the plough was restored to its\\nancient security and honor; and the nobles\\nwere taught to seek a sure and independent\\nrevenue from their estates, instead of adorn-\\ning their splendid beggary by the oppression\\nof the people, or (what is almost the same)\\nby the favors of the court.\\nWhen William Penn was about to leave\\nhis family for America, his wife, who was\\nthe love of his youth, was reminded of his\\nimpoverishment because of his public spirit,\\nand recommended economy. Live low\\nand sparingly till my debts be paid. Yet\\nfor his children he adds Let their learning\\nbe liberal; spare no cost, for by such parsi-\\nmony all is lost that is saved.\\nSociety mainly consists of two classes\\nthe savers and the wasters, the provident\\nand the improvident, the thrifty and the\\nthriftless, the Haves and the Have-nots.\\nThe men who economize by means of\\nlabor become the owners of capital which\\nsets other labor in motion. Capital accu-\\nmulates in their hands, and they employ\\nother laborers to work for them. Thus\\ntrade and commerce begin.\\nThe thrifty build houses, warehouses, and\\nmills. They fit manufactories with tools and\\nmachines. They build ships, and send them\\nto various parts of the world. They put\\ntheir capital together, and build railroads,\\nharbors, and docks. They open up mines\\nof coal, iron, and copper, and erect pump-\\ning-engines to keep them clear of water.\\nThey employ laborers to work the mines,\\nand thus give rise to an immense amount of\\nemployment.\\nAll this is the result of thrift. It is the\\nresult of economizing money and employing\\nit for beneficial purposes. The thriftless man\\nhas no share in the progress of the world.\\nHe spends all that he gets, and can give no\\nhelp to anybody. No matter how much\\nmoney he makes, his position is not in any\\nrespect raised. He husbands none of his\\nresources. He is always calling for help.\\nHe is, in fact, the born slave of the thrifty,\\nand is ever dependent.", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0306.jp2"}, "307": {"fulltext": "CHAPTKR XVI\\nCOURAGE.\\nHERE is a grand virtue that\\ngoes by the blunt name of\\nPluck. It would take vol-\\numes to record its victories.\\nYou should be able to face a\\nduty or a trial. Walk up to\\nit with determination in every\\nlook and action. Pluck is opposed to cow-\\nardice. It does not belong to weak charac-\\nters. You find it wherever anything worth\\ndoing is done, worth achieving is achieved.\\nIt can stand a shock without fainting. It\\ndoesn t mope around with camphor and a\\nsmelling-bottle. It doesn t run when a leaf\\nrustles. Its hair is not likely to stand straight\\nup through fright. It doesn t run for ghosts;\\nit marches right up, and the ghost runs.\\nPluck has done wonders. If you have it,\\nthank God for it; if you haven t it, you\\nought to have an assured income, someone\\nto pay for your food and clothes, and give\\nyou a decent burial, when, fortunately for\\nthe world, you die.\\nThis magnificent courage has had its praises\\nsung in epics and told in history. Not half\\nenough has ever been said about it. Go on\\ntelling its achievements for ages, and you\\nwould then only be in the first chapter.\\nBronze and marble commemorate it, but its\\nglories and triumphs will last when bronze\\nand marble have crumbled.\\nCourage without wisdom is mere boldness,\\nand there is a bad boldness that defeats itself.\\nYou like to see a man who knows he is right\\nstand like a rock. You despise the man who is\\nblown about by every wind that comes along.\\nPresident Garfield once said A pound\\nof pluck is worth a ton of luck. Let not\\npoverty stand as an obstacle in your way.\\nPoverty is uncomfortable, as I can testify\\nbut nine times out of ten the best thing that\\ncan happen to a young man is to be tossed\\noverboard and be compelled to sink or swim\\nfor himself In all my acquaintances I have\\nnever known one to be drowned who was\\nworth saving.\\nPluck won the American Revolution. It\\nhas won all fame and all fortune. It makes\\na man a hero, a general, a victor. It has put\\nthe laurel on every brow that ever wore it.\\nCourage to do Right.\\nWe may have courage, all of us.\\nTo start at honor s call,\\nTo meet a foe, protect a friend.\\nOr face a cannon ball.\\nTo show the world one hero lives,\\nThe foremost in the fight\\nBut do we always manifest\\nThe courage to do right\\nTo answer No with steady breath,\\nAnd quick unfaltering tongue,\\nWhen fierce temptation, ever near,\\nHer syren song has sung\\nTo care not for the bantering tone,\\nThe jest, or studied slight\\nContent if we can only have\\nThe courage to do right\\nTo step aside from fashion s course,\\nOr custom s favored plan\\nTo pluck an outcast from the street,\\nOr help a fellow man\\nIf not, then let us nobly try,\\nHenceforth, with all our might.\\nIn every case to muster up\\nThe courage to do right\\n271", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0307.jp2"}, "308": {"fulltext": "272", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0308.jp2"}, "309": {"fulltext": "THE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\n273\\nThe world owes much to its men and\\nwomen of courage. We do not mean physi-\\ncal courage, in which man is at least equalled\\nby the bull-dog; nor is the bull-dog con-\\n.sidered the wisest of his species.\\nThe courage that displays itself in silent\\neffort and endeavor that dares to endure all\\nand suffer all for truth and duty is more\\ntruly heroic than the achievements of physi-\\ncal valor, which are rewarded by honors and\\ntitles, or by laurels sometimes steeped in\\nblood.\\nIt is moral courage that characterizes the\\nhighest order of manhood and womanhood\\nthe courage to seek and to speak the\\ntruth; the courage to be just; the courage\\nto be honest the courage to resist tempta-\\ntion the courage to do one s duty. If men\\nand women do not possess this virtue, they\\nhave no security whatever for the preserva-\\ntion of any other.\\nAn Upward Struggle.\\nEvery step of progress in the history of\\nour race has been made in the face of oppo-\\nsition and difficulty, and been achieved and\\nsecured by men of intrepidity and valor by\\nleaders in the van of thought by great dis-\\ncovers, great patriots, and great workers in\\nall walks of life. There is scarcely a great\\ntruth or doctrine but has had to fight its way\\nto public recognition in the face of detrac-\\ntion, calumny, and persecution. Wherever\\na great soul gives utterance to its thoughts,\\nthere also is a Golgotha.\\nWhile the followers of the astronomer\\nCopernicus were persecuted as infidels, Kep-\\nler was branded with the stigma of heresy,\\nbecause, said he, I take that side which\\nseems to me to be consonant with the Word\\nof God. Even the pure and simple-minded\\nNewton, of whom Bishop Burnet said that he\\nhad the whitest soul he ever knew who\\n18\\nwas a very infant in the purity of his mmd\\neven Newton was accused of dethroning the\\nDeity by his sublime discovery of the law\\nof gravitation and a similar charge was\\nmade against Franklin for explaining the\\nnature of the thunderbolL.\\nSpinoza was excommunicated by the Jews,\\nto whom he belonged, because of his views\\nof philosophy, which were supposed to be\\nadverse to religion and his life was after-\\nwards attempted by an assassin for the same\\nreason. Spinoza remained courageous and\\nself-reliant to the last, dying in obscruity and\\npoverty.\\nThe Best Things Opposed.\\nIndeed, there has scarcely been a discov-\\nery in astronomy, in natural history, or in\\nphysical science, that has not been attacked\\nby the bigoted and narrow-minded as leading\\nto infidelity.\\nOther great discoverers, though they may\\nnot have been charged with irreligion, have\\nhad not less obloquy of a professional and\\npublic nature to encounter. When Dr. Har-\\nvey published his theory of the circulation of\\nthe blood, his practice fell off, and the medi-\\ncal profession stigmatized him as a fool.\\nThe few good things I have been able to\\ndo, said John Hunter, have been accom-\\nplished with the greatest difficulty, and\\nencountered the greatest opposition.\\nSir Charles Bell, while employed in his\\nimportant investigations as to the nervous\\nsystem, which issued in one of the greatest\\nof physiological discoveries, wrote to a friend\\nIf I were not so poor, and had not so many\\nvexations to encounter, how happy would I\\nbe But he himself observed that his prac-\\ntice sensibly fell off after the publication of\\neach successive stage of his discovery.\\nThus nearly every enlargement of the\\ndomain of knowledge, which has made us\\nL", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0309.jp2"}, "310": {"fulltext": "274\\nCOURAGE.\\nbetter acquainted with the heavens, with the\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2earth, and with ourselves, has been established\\nhy the energy, the devotion, the self-sacrifice,\\nand the courage of the great spirits of past\\ntimes, who, however much they have been\\nopposed or reviled by their contemporaries,\\nnow rank among those whom the enlightened\\n.of thfe human race most delight to honor.\\nCharity for All.\\nNor is the unjust intolerence displayed\\ntowards men of science in the past without\\nits lesson for the present. It teaches us to\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2be forbearant towards those who differ from\\nus, provided they observe patiently, think\\nhonestly, and ut .er their convictions freely\\nand truthfu^ It was a remark of Plato,\\nthat the world is God s epistle to mankind\\n.and to read and study that epistle, so as to\\nelicit its true meaning, can have no other\\neffect on a well-ordered mind than to lead to\\na deeper impression of his power, a clearer\\nperception of his wisdom, and a more grate-\\nful sense of his goodness.\\nWhile such has been the courage of the\\ntmartyrs of science, not less glorious has been\\nthe courage of the martyrs of faith. The\\npassive endurance of the man or woman who,\\nfor conscience sake, is found ready to suffer\\nand to endure in solitude, without so much\\nas the encouragement of even a single sym-\\npathizing voice, is an exhibition of courage\\nof a far higher kind than that displayed in\\nthe roar of battle, where even the weakest\\nfeels encouraged and inspired by the\\nenthusiasm of sympathy and the power of\\njiumbers.\\nTime would fail to tell of the deathless\\nnames of those who through faith in princi-\\nples, and in the face of difficulty, danger,\\nand suffering, have wrought righteousness\\nand waxed valiant in the moral warfare of\\nthe world,, and been content to lay down\\ntheir lives rather than prove false to their\\nconscientious convictions of the truth.\\nMen of this stamp, inspired by a high\\nsense of duty, have in past times exhibited\\ncharacter in its most heroic aspects, and\\ncontinue to present to us some of the noblest\\nspectacles to be seen in history, Even\\nwomen, full of tenderness and gentleness,\\nnot less than men, have in this cause been\\nfound capable of exhibiting the most unflinch-\\ning courage. Such, for instance, as that of\\nAnne Askew, who, when racked until her\\nbones were dislocated, uttered no cry, moved\\nno muscle, but looked her tormentors calmly\\nin the face, and refused either to confess or\\nto recant or such as that of Latimer and\\nRidley, who, instead of bewailing their hard\\nfate and beating their breasts, went as cheer-\\nfully to their death as a bridegroom to the\\naltar the one bidding the other to be of\\ngood comfort, for that we shall this day\\nHght such a candle in England, by God s\\ngrace, as shall never be put out or such,\\nagain, as that of Mary Dyer, the Quakeress,\\nhanged by the Puritans of New England for\\npreaching to the people, who ascended the\\nscaffold with a willing step, and, after calmly\\naddressing those who stood about, resigned\\nherself into the hands of her persecutors, and\\ndied in peace and joy.\\nThe Field is Won.\\nNot less courageous was the behavior of\\nthe good Sir Thomas More, who marched\\nwillingly to the scaffold, and died cheerfully\\nthere, rather than prove false to his conr-\\nscience. When More had made his final\\ndecision to stand upon his principles, he felt\\nas if he had won a victory, and said to his\\nson-in-law Roper: Son Roper, I thank our\\nLord, the field is won The Duke of Nor-\\nfolk told him of his danger, saying: Master\\nMore, it is perilous striving with princes the", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0310.jp2"}, "311": {"fulltext": "THE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\n275\\nanger of a prince brings death! Is that\\nall, my lord? said More; then the differ-\\nence between you and me is this that I\\nshall die to-day, and you to-morrow.\\nWhile it has been the lot of many great\\nmen, in times of difficulty and danger, to be\\ncheered and supported by their wives. More\\nhad no such consolation. His helpmate did\\nanything but console him during his impris-\\nonment within the old London Tower. She\\ncould not conceive that there was any suffi-\\ncient reason for his continuing to lie there,\\nwhen, by merely doing what the king re-\\nquired of him, he might at once enjoy his\\nliberty, together with his fine house at Chel-\\nsea, his library, his orchard, his gallery, and\\nthe society of his wife and children.\\nA Bitter Reproach.\\nI marvel, said she to him one day,\\nthat you, who have been alway hitherto\\ntaken for wise, should now so play the fool\\nas to lie here in this close, filthy prison, and\\nbe content to be shut up among mice and\\nrats, when you might be abroad at your lib-\\nerty, if you would but do as the bishops have\\ndone!\\nBut More saw his duty from a different\\npoint of view it was not a mere matter of\\npersonal comfort with him, and the expostu-\\nlations of his wife were of no avail. He\\ngently put her aside, saying, cheerfully, Is\\nnot this house as nigh heaven as my own?\\nMore s daughter, Margaret Roper, on the\\ncontrary, encouraged her father to stand firm\\nin his principles, and dutifully consoled and\\ncheered him during his long confinement.\\nDeprived of pen and ink, he wrote his letters\\nto her with a piece of coal, saying in one of\\nthem If I were to declare in writing how\\nmuch pleasure your daughterly, loving let-\\nters gave me, a peck of coals would not suf-\\nfice to make the pens.\\nMore was a martyr to veracity: he would\\nnot swear a false oath and he perished be-\\ncause he was sincere. When his head had\\nbeen struck off, it was placed on London\\nBridge, in accordance with the barbarous\\npractice of the times. Margaret Roper had\\nthe courage to ask for the head to be taken\\ndown and given to her, and, carrying her\\naffection for her father beyond the grave, she\\ndesired that it might be buried with her when\\nshe died; and, long after, when Margaret\\nRoper s tomb was opened, the precious relic\\nwas observed lying on the dust of what had\\nbeen her bosom.\\nThe celebrated Mary Lyon, of Mount\\nHolyoke Seminary, Mass., one of the noblest\\nand best of women, used the following re-\\nmarkable words, which were beautifully illus-\\ntrated by her life There is nothing in the\\nuniverse that I fear, but that I shall not know\\nall my duty, or shall fail to do it. The true\\ntest of courage is, in all circumstances, to\\ndare to do right! Dare to do Avhat your\\nconscience will approve, and will be esteemed\\nright by good society.\\nNoble Daring.\\nDare to think, though others frown\\nDare in words your thoughts express\\nDare to rise, though oft cast down\\nDare the wronged and scorned to bless.\\nDare from custom to depart\\nDare the priceless pearl possess\\nDare to wear it next your heart\\nDare, when others cvurse, to bless.\\nDare forsake what you deem wrong\\nDare to walk in wisdom s way\\nDare to give where gifts belong\\nDare God s precepts to obey.\\nDo what conscience says is right\\nDo what reason says is best\\nDo with all your mind and might\\nDo vour duty and be blest.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0311.jp2"}, "312": {"fulltext": "DRUIDS INCITING THE BRITONS TO RESIST THE ROMANS.\\n276", "height": "3481", "width": "2681", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0312.jp2"}, "313": {"fulltext": "THK CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\n277\\nAmong the ancient Gauls and Britons was\\na powerful priesthood called the Druids.\\nThey were at once priests, teachers and\\njudges; they tried criminals, fixed punish-\\nments, decided all public questions and their\\npower was so great that they could decree\\npeace with other nations or incite to war,\\nnever doing the latter, hoAvever, except in\\nself-defence and as a last resort. They per-\\nformed their religious rites in groves and\\nrocky retreats, and among them the oak tree\\nwas especially sacred. When the Romans\\ninvaded Britain the Druids incited the people\\nto rebellion, did all they could to uphold the\\nnational cause, and inspired such courage as\\nresulted in deeds of valor that have become\\nhistoric.\\nAnd, indeed, history is full of examples of\\nthis kind of courage. Yet it is moral hero-\\nism that should be especially commended.\\nThis belongs to the noblest type of manhood.\\nCalled a Coward.\\nOne of the most trying tests of a young\\nman s virtue arises from an insinuation that\\nhe is a coward. Upon this subject most\\nmen are very sensitive, disliking to be con-\\nsidered deficient in what they suppose is the\\nvery essence of real manhood. But, unfortu-\\nnately, the test is rarely presented in things\\nthat are right; the challenge is not to do\\ndeeds that are noble and worthy of praise,\\nbut to force the person to do wrong. In this\\nway it becomes an influence for mischief that\\nproduces the saddest effect upon character.\\nIf a young man refuses to assist in robbing\\nan orchard, he is stigmatized, by those who\\nhav e no moral principle or manly feeling, as\\na coward; if he is unwilling to drink intoxi-\\ncating liquor, or if he declines to violate the\\nlaws of school or society, his refusal is im-\\nputed to dishonorable fear. Many a person\\nis driven to do what his judgment and his\\nconscience ahke condemn, because he dreads\\nthat others will not think him brave. Such\\nfear is the greatest and basest cowardice.\\nThus there are two kinds of courage,\\nphysical and moral; the former finds its\\nhighest type in the bull-dog, while the latter\\nis illu.strated by those persons who have suf-\\nfered martyrdom rather than sacrifice their\\nlove of right and conscientious convictions\\nof truth.\\nHuman Brutes.\\nAn English dog-breeder, who possessed a\\nrace of terriers of remarkable ferocity and\\nendurance, offered to bet a large sum of\\nmoney, that when a certain dog, which he\\nowned, was engaged in fighting, he coulJ\\ncut off three of his legs, and the dog would\\nnot give up or relinquish his hold. The bet\\nwas taken, and the dogs were set to, when\\nthe poor brute actually suffered one leg to be\\ntaken off after another, and finally suffered\\ndeath rather than cease to fight.\\nIt is hard to say which was the greatei\\nobject of pity, the poor dog, whose savage\\ninstincts led him to suffer and die rather than\\nlet go his hold, or the brutal, vicious master\\nwho could engage in such wicked cruelty\\nand call it sport. We wonder at the fero-\\ncious instinct of the bull-terrier and remem-\\nber that while he possesses physical courage\\nin so remarkable a degree, there is nothing\\nelse in him that in any way commends him\\nto our admiration. He is cross, unsociable,\\nuntractable, unreliable, and vicious he is\\namong dogs what the prize-fighter or the\\nprofessed pugilist is among men the mean-\\nest and most unworthy animal of his kind.\\nThe person who, for money or the love of\\nnotoriety, permits himself to engage in an\\nencounter, in which he will receive and inflict\\nserious and sometimes fatal injuries, possesses\\nno quality that raises him in any degree above\\nk", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0313.jp2"}, "314": {"fulltext": "278\\nCOURAGE.\\na brute. In such an exhibition, the bull-dog\\nis his equal and the hyena is his superior.\\nMany a man can even enter a battle, and in\\nthe excitement of the conflict, surrounded by\\nhis friends and backers, fight ferociously,\\nreceive wounds, and dare death, who has not\\na particle of that high moral courage which\\nwould lead him to suffer insult and injury\\nand endure them silently for the sake of a\\nprinciple. It is often a braver thing to be\\ncalled a coward and not resent it than it\\nwould be to fight a battle.\\nBad men are not always brave. During\\nthe civil war a regiment was raised in one\\nof the northern cities composed entirely of\\nthose men who had become notorious as\\nstreet bullies, and who were always promi-\\nnent in drunken brawls and fights. It was\\nsupposed that they would make capital\\nsoldiers, and great hopes were excited that\\nthey would distinguish themselves by their\\nfearlessness and contempt of danger and\\ndeath.\\nA Worthless Rabble.\\nAs might have been reasonably expected,\\nthey utterly failed to make any honorable\\nrecord. How could they? They were not\\nactuated by any principle of honor; they\\ndid not enter the army from motives of duty\\nor patriotism, or love for the cause they\\nengaged to defend. The excitement of army\\nlife and the hope of bounty and plunder\\nwere their only motives. They could kill\\na man at night in the city and rob him, but\\nas soldiers they were cowardly, unreliable\\nand worthless. It needs more than rough,\\ncoarse, fierce brutality to give a person a\\ncharacter for courage.\\nTrue courage is a combination of moral\\nand physical qualities, so united as to secure\\nthe noblest character. A pure conscience,\\na clear, intelligent mind, and a strong body\\nare necessary to the highest form of cour-\\nageous manhood. A man may have a\\nmoral courage which would enable him to\\ndare any consequences to do right, and,\\nat the same time, a physical weakness\\nwhich would shrink at the slightest pain.\\nOf such a combination martyrs have often\\nbeen made, but the moral heroism overcame\\nthe fear of death and the pangs of torture.\\nFear of Ridicule.\\nA really brave man never exposes himself\\nneedlessly to danger, and if unhappily en-\\ntrapped in a quarrel, he will always refuse to\\nfight until compelled in self-defense. He will\\nsuffer insult and indignity, permit himself to\\nbe called hard names and to be misrepre-\\nsented, rather than allow hatred and murder\\nto enter his heart, or do that which in his\\ncalmer moments he would abhor. For-\\nbearance is a divine attribute, and worthy\\nof special cultivation. It is the coward\\nthat is driven by his fears of ridicule to\\ndo that which he knows is wrong.\\nWe have heroes in every-day life. A boy\\nin the town of Weser, in Germany, playing\\none day with his sister, four years of age,\\nwas alarmed by the cry of some men who\\nwere in pursuit of a mad dog. The boy,\\nsuddenly looking round, saw the dog run-\\nning toward him, but instead of making his\\nescape, he calmly took off his coat, and,\\nwrapping it round his arm, boldly faced the\\ndog. Holding out the arm covered with the\\ncoat, the animal attacked it and worried it\\nuntil the men came up and killed the dog.\\nThe men reproachfully asked the boy why\\nhe did not run and avoid the dog, which he\\ncould so easily have done. Yes, said the\\nlittle hero, I could have run from the dog,\\nbut if I had he would have attacked my\\nsister. To protect her, I offered him my\\ncoat, that he might tear it.", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0314.jp2"}, "315": {"fulltext": "THE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\n279\\nA similar case of heroism occurred in the\\ncity of Evansville, Indiana, in which Emma\\nCarroll, a httle girl eleven years old, ran\\nthrough the flames of burning kerosene and\\nrescued, at the expense of her life, her\\nmotherless baby brother, of whom she had\\nthe care. In the terrible agony of her dying\\nhours, she was consoled with the thought\\nthat the baby had escaped unharmed. She\\nhad saved him. And she showed that one\\nof the gentler sex may be as brave as the\\nstout-hearted fireman who surprises us by\\nhis deeds of daring.\\nEducation in courage is not usually in-\\ncluded among the branches of female train-\\ning, and yet it is really of much greater\\nimportance than either music, French, or\\nthe use of the globes. Contrary to the\\nview that women should be characterized\\nby a tender fear, and an inferiority which\\nmakes her lovely, we would have women\\neducated in resolution and courage, as a\\nmeans of rendering them more helpful, more\\nself-reUant, and vastly more useful and happy.\\nGentleness and Courage.\\nThere is nothing attractive in timidity,\\nnothing lovable in fear. All weakness,\\nwhether of mind or body, is equivalent to\\ndeformity, and the reverse of interesting.\\nCourage is graceful and dignified while\\nfear, in any form, is mean and repulsive.\\nYet the utmost tenderness and gentleness\\nare consistent with courage.\\nAry Scheffer, the artist, once wrote to his\\ndaughter Dear daughter, strive to be of\\ngood courage, to be gentle-hearted; these\\nare the true qualities for woman. Troubles\\neverybody must expect. There is but one\\nway of looking at fate whatever that be,\\nwhether blessings or afflictions to behave\\nwith dignity under both. We must not lose\\nheart, or it will be the worse both for our-\\nselves and for those whom we love. To\\nstruggle, and again and again to renew the\\nconflict this is life s inheritance.\\nA Brave Heart.\\nI said to sorrow s awful storm,\\nThat beat against my breast,\\nRage on Thou may st destroy this form.\\nAnd lay it low at rest\\nBut still the spirit that now brooks\\nThy tempest raging high,\\nUndaunted on its fury looks\\nWith steadfast eye.\\nI said to penury s meagre train,\\nCome on your threats I brave\\nMy last poor life-drop you may drain,.\\nAnd crush me to the grave\\nYet still the spirit that endures\\nShall mock your force the while.\\nAnd meet each cold, cold grasp of yours\\nWith bitter smile.\\nI said to cold neglect and scorn,\\nPass on I heed you not\\nYe may pursue me till my form\\nAnd being are forgot\\nYet still the spirit which 3 ou see,\\nUndaunted by your wiles.\\nDraws from its own nobility\\nIts high-born smiles.\\nI said to friendship s menaced blow,\\nStrike deep my heart shall bear\\nThou canst but add one bitter woe\\nTo those already there\\nYet still the spirit that sustains\\nThis last severe distress.\\nShall smile upon its keenest pains,\\nAnd scorn redress.\\nI said to death s uplifted dart,\\nAim sure Oh why delay\\nThou wilt not find a fearful heart\\nA weak, reluctant prey\\nFor still the spirit, firm and free,\\nUnrufled by this last dismay,\\nWrapt in its own eternity.\\nShall pass away.\\nLavinia Stoddard.\\nIn sickness or sorrow none are braver\\nand less complaining sufferers than women.\\nTheir courage, where their hearts are con-", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0315.jp2"}, "316": {"fulltext": "280\\nCOURAGE.\\ncerned, is indeed proverbial. Experience\\nhas proved that women can be as enduring\\nas men under the heaviest trials and calami-\\nties but too little pains are taken to teach\\nthem to endure petty terrors and frivolous\\nvexations with fortitude. Such little miseries,\\nif petted and indulged, quickly run into sickly\\nsensibility, and become the bane of their life,\\nkeeping themselves and those about them in\\na state of chronic discomfort.\\nThe best corrective of this condition of\\nmind is wholesome moral and mental dis-\\ncipline. Mental strength is as necessary for\\nthe development of woman s character as of\\nman s. It gives her capacity to deal with\\nthe affairs of life, and presence of mind, which\\nenable her to act with vigor and effect in\\nmoments of emergency. Character in a\\nwoman; as in a man, will always be found\\nthe best safeguard of virtue, the best nurse\\nof religion. Personal beauty soon passes\\nbut beauty of mind and character increases\\nin attractiveness the older it grows.\\nHeroic Women.\\nThe courage of woman is not the less true\\nbecause it is for the most part passive. It\\nis not encouraged by the cheers of the world,\\nfor it is mostly exhibited in the quiet recesses\\nof private life. Yet there are cases of heroic\\npatience and endurance on the part of women\\nwhich occasionally come to the light of day.\\nOne of the most celebrated instances in his-\\ntory is that of Gertrude Von der Wart. Her\\nhusband, falsely accused of being an accom-\\nplice in the murder of Emperor Albert, was\\ncondemned to the most frightful of all pun-\\nishments to be broken alive on the wheel.\\nWith the most profound conviction of her\\nhusband s innocence, the faithful woman\\nstood by his side to the last, watching over\\nhi.n during two days and nights, braving\\nthe empress s anger and the inclemency of\\nthe weather, in the hope of contributing to\\nsoothe his dying agonies.\\nThe sufferings of this noble woman, to-\\ngether with those of her unfortunate husband,\\nwere touchingly described in a letter after-\\nwards addressed by her to a female friend,\\nwhich was published some years ago, entitled\\nGertrude von der Wart; or, Fidelity unto\\nDeath. Mrs. Hemans wrote the following\\npoem of great pathos and beauty, commemo-\\nrating the sad story\\nGertrude.\\nHer hands were clasped, her dark eyes raised,\\nThe breeze threw back her hair\\nUp to the fearful wheel she gazed\\nAll that she loved was there.\\nThe night was round her clear and cold,\\nThe holy heaven above\\nIts pale stars watching to behold\\nThe night of earthly love.\\nAnd bid me not depart, she cried,\\nMy Rudolph say not so\\nThis is no time to quit thy side\\nPeace, peace I cannot go.\\nHath the world aught for me to fear\\nWhen death is on thy brow\\nThe world? what means it? ^mine is here--\\nI will not leave thee now\\nI have been with thee in thine hour\\nO glory and of bliss.\\nDoubt not its memory s living power\\nTo strengthen me through this\\nAnd thou, mine honored love and true,\\nBear on, bear nobly on\\nWe have the blessed heaven in view,\\nWhose rest shall soon be won.\\nAnd were not these high words to flow\\nFrom woman s breaking heart\\nThrough all that night of bitterest woe\\nShe bore her lofty part\\nBut oh with such a freezing eye,\\nWith such a curdling cheek\\nLove, love of mortal agony.\\nThou, only thou, shouldst speak\\nThe winds rose high\u00e2\u0080\u0094 but with them rose\\nHer voice that he might hear", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0316.jp2"}, "317": {"fulltext": "THE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\n281\\nPerchance that dark hour brought repose\\nTo happy bosoms near\\nWhile she sat striving with despair\\nBeside his tortured form\\nAnd pouring her deep soul in prayer\\nForth on the rushing storm.\\nShe wiped the death damps from his brow,\\nWith her pale hands and soft,\\nWhose touch upon the lute chords low\\nHad stilled his heart so oft.\\nShe spread her mantle o er his breast.\\nShe bathed his lips with dew,\\nAnd on his cheek such kisses pressed\\nAs joy and hope ne er knew.\\nOh lovely are ye, love and faith,\\nEnduring to the last\\nShe had her meed one smile in death\\nAnd his worn spirit passed,\\nWhile even as o er a martyr s grave\\nShe knelt on that sad spot\\nAnd, weeping, blessed the God who gave\\nStrength to forsake it not.\\nFewcia Dorothea Hemans.\\nAlthough success is the prize for which all\\nmen toil, they have nevertheless often to labor\\non perseveringly, without any glimmer of\\nsuccess in sight. They have to live, mean-\\nwhile, upon their courage sowing their seed,\\nit may be, in the dark, in the hope that it\\nwill yet take root and spring up in achieved\\nresult. The best of causes have had to fight\\ntheir way to triumph through a long suc-\\ncession of failures, and many of the assailants\\nhave died in the breach before the fortress\\nhas been won. The heroism they have dis-\\nplayed is to be measured not so much by\\ntheir immediate success, as by the opposition\\nthey have encountered, and the courage with\\nwhich they have maintained the struggle.\\nThe patriot who fights an always-losing\\nbattle the martyr who goes to death amidst\\nthe triumphant shouts of his enemies the\\ndiscoverer, like Columbus, whose heart re-\\nmains undaunted through the bitter years of\\nhis long wandering woe are examples\\nof the morally sublime which excite a pro-\\nfounder interest in the hearts of men that\\neven the most complete and conspicuous suc-\\ncess. By the side of such instances as these,\\nhow small in comparison seem the greatest\\ndeeds of valor, inciting men to rush upon\\ndeath and die amidst the frenzied excitement\\nof physical warfare\\nThe pure, heart-searching doctrines which\\nwere preached by John Knox were then, as\\nthey are now, offensive to the wicked heart,\\nand hence he was commanded by the volup-\\ntuous court of Mary to desist. Knox, who\\nknew no master and obeyed no mandate that\\nwas in opposition to God and his Bible, paid\\nno attention to this command of the palace.\\nHearing immediately that her orders were\\ndisobeyed, the haughty Mary summoned the\\nScottish reformer into her presence. When\\nKnox arrived he was ushered into the room\\nin which were the queen and her attendant\\nlords. On being questioned concerning his\\ncontumacy, he answered plainly that he\\npreached nothing but truth, and that he\\ndared not preach less. But, answered\\none of the lords, our commands must be\\nobeyed on pain of death silence or the gal-\\nlows must be the alternative.\\nA Bold Reply.\\nThe spirit of Knox was roused by the\\ndastardly insinuation that any human pun-\\nishment could make him desert the truth,\\nand with that fearless, indescribable courage\\nwhich disdains the pomp of language or of\\naction, he firmly replied, My lords, you are\\nmistaken if you think you can intimidate me\\nto do by threats what conscience and God\\ntell me I never shall do; for be it known\\nunto you that it is a matter of no importance\\nto me, when I have finished my work,\\nwhether my bones shall bleach in the winds\\nof heaven or rot in the bosom of the earth.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0317.jp2"}, "318": {"fulltext": "282\\nCOURAGE.\\nKnox having retired, one of the lords said\\nto the queen, We may let him alone, for\\nwe cannot punish that man. Well, there-\\nfore, might it be said by a nobleman at the\\ngrave of John Knox, Here lies one who\\nnever feared the face of man.\\nBut the greater part of the courage that\\nis needed in the world is not of a heroic\\nkind. Courage may be displayed in every-\\nday life as well as in historic fields of action.\\nThere needs, for example, the common cour-\\nage to be honest the courage to resist temp-\\ntation the courage to speak the truth the\\ncourage to be what we really are, and not to\\npretend to be what we are not the courage\\nto live honestly within our own means, and\\nnot dishonestly upon the means of others.\\nCannot say No!\\nA great deal of the unhappiness, and\\nmuch of the vice, of the world is owing\\nto weakness and indecision of purpose\\nin other words, to lack of courage. Men\\nmay know what is right, and yet fail to\\nexercise the courage to do it; they may\\nunderstand the duty they have to do, but\\nwill not summon up the requisite resolution\\nto perform it. The weak and undisciplined\\nman is at the mercy of every temptation he\\ncannot say No, but falls before it. And\\nif his companionship be bad, he will be all\\nthe easier led away by bad example into\\nwrong-doing.\\nNothing can be more certain than that the\\ncharacter can only be sustained and strength-\\nened by its own energetic action. The will,\\nwhich is the central force of character, must\\nbe trained to habits of decision otherwise\\nit will neither be able to resist evil nor to\\nfollow good. Decision gives the power of\\nstanding firmly, when to yield, however\\nslightly, might be only the first step in a\\ndown-hill course to ruin.\\nMany are the valiant purposes formed,\\nthat end merely in words deeds intended,\\nthat are never done designs projected, that\\nare never begun and all for want of a little\\ncourageous decision. Better far the silent\\ntongue but the eloquent deed. For in life\\nand in business, dispatch is better than dis-\\ncourse and the shortest answer of all is,\\ndoing.\\nIn matters of great concern, and which\\nmust be done, says Tillotson, there is no\\nsurer argument of a weak mind than irreso-\\nlution to be undetermined when the case is\\nso plain and the necessity so urgent. To be\\nalways intending to live a new life, but never\\nto find time to set about it this is as if a\\nman should put off eating and drinking and\\nsleeping from one day to another, until he is\\nstarved and destroyed.\\nBusy Mrs. Grundy.\\nThere needs also the exercise of no small\\ndegree of moral courage to resist the corrupt-\\ning influences of what is called society.\\nAlthough Mrs. Grundy may be a very\\nvulgar and commonplace personage, her\\ninfluence is nevertheless prodigious. Moit\\nmen, but especially women, are the moral\\nslaves of the class or caste to which they\\nbelong.\\nEach circle and section, each rank and\\nclass, has its respective customs and obser-\\nvances, to which conformity is required at\\nthe risk of being tabooed. Some are im-\\nmured within a bastile of fashion, others of\\ncustom, others of opinion and few there are\\nwho have the courage to think outside their\\nsect, to act outside their party, and to step\\nout into the free air of individual thought and\\naction. We dress, and eat, and follow fashion,\\nthough it may be at the risk of debt, ruin,\\nand misery living not so much according\\nto our means as according to the supersti-", "height": "3499", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0318.jp2"}, "319": {"fulltext": "THE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\n283\\ntious observances of our class. Though we\\nmay speak contemptuously of the Indians\\nwho flatten their heads, and of the Chinese\\nwho cramp their toes, we have only to look\\nat the deformities of fashion among ourselves,\\nto see that the reign of Mrs. Grundy is\\nuniversal.\\nBut moral cowardice is exhibited quite as\\nmuch in public as in private life. It is not\\nthe man of the noblest character the highest-\\ncultured and best-conditioned man whose\\nfavor is now sought, so much as that of the\\nlowest man, the least-cultured and worst-\\nconditioned man, because of his vote. Even\\nmen of rank, wealth, and education are seen\\nprostrating themselves before the ignorant,\\nwhose votes are thus to be got. They are\\nready to be unprincipled and unjust rather\\nthan unpopular. It is so much easier for\\nsome men to stoop, to bow, and to flatter,\\nthan to be manly, resolute, and magnanimous\\nand to yield to prejudices, than run counter\\nto them. It requires strength and courage\\nto swim against the stream, while any dead\\nfish can float with it.\\nIf thou canst plan a noble deed,\\nAnd never flag till it succeed,\\nThou in the strife thy heart should bleed,\\nWhatever obstacles control,\\nThine hour will come go on, true soul\\nThou ltwin the prize, thou lt reach the goal.\\nIt is the strong and courageous men who\\nlead and guide and rule the world. The\\nweak and timid leave no trace behind them;\\nwhile the life of a single upright and ener-\\ngetic man is like a track of light. His ex-\\nample is remembered and appealed to and\\nhis thoughts, his spirit, and his courage con-\\ntinue to be the inspiration of succeeding gen-\\nerations.\\nIt is energy the central element of which\\nis will that produces the miracles of enthu-\\nsiasm in all ages. Everywhere it is the main-\\nspring of what is called force of character,\\nand the sustaining power of all great action.\\nIn a righteous cause the determined man\\nstands upon his courage as upon a granite\\nblock; and, like David, he will go forth to\\nmeet Goliath, strong in heart though a host\\nbe encamped against him.\\nCourage, Brother!\\nCourage, brother do not stumble.\\nThough thy path be dark as night.\\nThere s a star to guide the humble\\nTrust in God and do the right.\\nThough the road be long and dreary,\\nAnd the end be out of sight\\nFoot it bravely, strong or weary,\\nTrust in God, and do the right.\\nPerish policy and cunning\\nPerish all that fears the light,\\nWhether losing, whether winning,\\nTrust in God, and do the right.\\nShun all forms of guilty passion.\\nFiends can look like angels bright.\\nHeed no custom, school or fashion,\\nTrust in God, and do the right.\\nNorman McLeod.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0319.jp2"}, "320": {"fulltext": "284", "height": "3497", "width": "2478", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0320.jp2"}, "321": {"fulltext": "CHAPTER XVII.\\nPATIENCE.\\nN ounce of patience is worth a ton\\nof fretfulness. Think it over\\nand you will see that nothing\\ncan be done better by impa-\\ntience than by its opposite.\\nThe horse that starts, jerks,\\nbacks up, frets and sweats and gets white\\nwith lather, is a poor horse for any kind\\nof work. Put your hand on his warm neck.\\nSpeak gently to him. Quiet him down and\\nmake friends with him. If you could make\\nhim understand, you might tell him how\\nmuch better that slow, moping, patient ox\\nover the fence is than a horse that is restless\\nand vixenish.\\nBe calm under all vexations and trials.\\nStorms beat down the flowers, hurricanes on\\nthe sea wreck ships, cyclones on land uproot\\ntrees, carry houses skyward and leave be-\\nhind them destruction and death. It is\\nduring calm sunshine that harvests grow.\\nAnybody can get into a rage; it requires\\nmore effort and shows a higher type of\\nmanhood and womanhood to be patient.\\nLearn to wait, and be calm while you do it.\\nThe train stops, you get in a hurry, you\\nstorm and bluster, but that does not make\\nthe engine go.\\nThe man who can calmly wait is master\\nof the situation. The writer of these lines\\nwhen a boy thought he would like to have\\na peach-tree, one that he could call his own.\\nHe took a peach-stone one day and planted\\nit on a sunny hillside. The next day he\\nwent and dug it up to see if it was growing.\\nThis went on for a week, and he was vexed\\nand disappointed to find there was no tree.\\nThe poor peach-stone, dug up every day,\\nhad no chance to grow. The world is full\\nof impatient people everlastingly digging up\\ntheir work to see if it is growing.\\nMacaulay says William, Prince of Orange,\\nconceived the vast project of protecting\\nEurope from Louis XIV. William had this\\ngreat end ever before him. Toward that end\\nhe was impelled by a strong passion which\\nappeared to him under the guise of a sacred\\nduty. Toward that end he toiled with a\\npatience resembling, as he once said, the\\npatience with which he had once seen a boat-\\nman on a canal strain against an adverse\\neddy, often swept back, but never ceasing to\\npull, and content if, by the labor of hours, a\\nfew yards could be gained. Exploits which\\nbrought the prince no nearer to his object,\\nhowever glorious they might be in the esti-\\nmation of the vulgar, were in his judgment\\nboyish vanities, and no part of the real busi-\\nness of life.\\nToiling Years for Success.\\nLook at Morse, discoverer of the tele-\\ngraph. The magnetic principle on which the\\ninvention depends had been known since\\n1774, but Professor Morse was the first to\\napply that principle for the benefit of men.\\nHe began his experiments in 1832, and five\\nyears afterward succeeded in obtaining a\\npatent on his invention. Then followed\\nanother long delay and it was not until the\\n285", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0321.jp2"}, "322": {"fulltext": "286\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nlast day of the session in 1843 that he pro-\\ncured from Congress an appropriation of\\n30,000. With that appropriation was con-\\nstructed, between Baltimore and Washington,\\nthe first telegraphic line in the world. Per-\\nhaps no other invention has exercised a more\\nbeneficent influence on the welfare of the\\nhuman race.\\nAlexander, the Great, hazarded his person,\\nby way of exercise for himself and example\\nto others. But his friends, in the pride of\\nwealth, were so devoted to luxury and ease\\nthat they considered long marches and cam-\\npaigns as a burden, and by degrees came to\\nmurmur and speak ill of the king. At first\\nhe bore their censures with great moderation,\\nand used to say there was something noble\\nin hearing himself ill-spoken of while he was\\ndoing well.\\nAnd so you learn that patience always\\nbelongs to great characters. Only little\\npeople are habitually impatient. They make\\na clatter; so does an empty cart. They\\ncannot bear to be crossed. They must have\\neverything their own way, and generally it is\\na very poor way. When they die their\\nfriends have a rest.\\nA Modest Plant.\\nThere is a little plant that grows\\nIn almost every soil,\\nIf he who sows the seed bestows\\nA little care and toil.\\nIts stems no gorgeous blossoms show\\nTo captivate the eye,\\nBlossoms that greet the morning view,\\nAnd ere the sunset die.\\nAh, no though plain as flowers can be,\\nTwas planted here below.\\nTo keep the world in harmony.\\nAnd aid to bear life s woe.\\nThough needful as the constant food\\nThat daily want supplies,\\nLike every other common good,\\nWe fail the plant to prize\\nTill absence of it proves its worth.\\nAnd discord holds its sway\\nAnd crosses incident to earth.\\nGrow heavier every day.\\nWe call it Patience, kin to three\\nThat would redeem the fall.\\nBlest Faith, and Hope, and Charity,\\nWe surely need them all\\nMary F. Van Dyck.\\nIn days of yore there lived in Chester, in\\nthe State of Pennsylvania, an old gentleman\\nwho kept a dry-goods store, and was remark-\\nable for his imperturbable disposition, so\\nmuch so that no one had ever seen him out\\nof temper. This remarkable characteristic\\nhaving become the subject of conversation,\\none of his neighbors, who was something of\\na wag, bet five dollars that he could succeed\\niu ruffling the habitual placidity of the stoic.\\nA Cent s Worth of Cloth.\\nHe accordingly proceeded to his store,\\nand asked to see some cloths suitable for a\\ncoat. One piece was shown to him, and\\nthen another; a third and a fourth were\\nhanded from the shelves this was too\\ncoarse, the other was too fine one was of\\ntoo dark a color, another too light; still\\nthe old Diogenes continued placid as new\\nmilk and no sooner did his customer start\\nan objection to any particular piece, than he\\nwas met by some other variety being laid\\nbefore him, until the very last piece in the\\nshop was unfolded to his view.\\nThe vender now lost all hope of pleasing\\nhis fastidious purchaser, when the latter,\\naffecting to look at the uppermost piece\\nwith satisfaction, exclaimed, Ah, my dear\\nsir, you have hit it at last this is the very\\nthing I will take a cent s worth of the pat-\\ntern, at the same time laying the money\\nplump upon the counter before him, to show\\nthat he was prompt pay.", "height": "3496", "width": "2486", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0322.jp2"}, "323": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0323.jp2"}, "324": {"fulltext": "288\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nYou shall have it, my good friend, re-\\nplied the merchant, with the utmost serious-\\nness of speech and manners; and then, laying\\nthe cent upon the surface of the cloth, and\\napplying his ample scissors, he cut it fairly\\nround to the very size of the money, and,\\nwrapping it carefully in paper, made a low\\nbow, thanked him for his custom, and hoped\\nthat he would call at his store when he\\nwanted anything in his line again.\\nThe most beneficent operations of nature\\nare the result of patience. The waters slowly\\ndeposit their rich alluvium the fruits are\\nmonths in their growth and perfecting.\\nA Saying of Buffon.\\nTo be wise we must diligently apply our-\\nselves, and confront the same continuous\\napplication which our forefathers did for\\nlabor is still, and ever will be, the inevit-\\nable price set upon everything which is\\nvaluable. We must be satisfied to work\\nenergetically with a purpose, and wait the\\nresults with patience. Buffon has even said\\nof patience, that it is genius the power of\\ngreat men, in his opinion, consisting mainly\\nin their power of continuous working and\\nwaiting. All progress, of the best kind, is\\nslow but to him who works faithfully and\\nin a right spirit, be sure that the reward will\\nbe vouchsafed in its own good time.\\nCourage and industry, says Granville\\nSharpe, must have sunk in despair, and\\nthe world must have remained unimproved\\nand unornamented, if men had merely com-\\npared the effect of a single stroke of the\\nchisel with the pyramid to be raised, or of a\\nsingle impression of the spade with the\\nmountains to be leveled. We must con-\\ntinuously apply ourselves to right pursuits,\\nand we cannot fail to advance steadily, though\\nit may be unconsciously.\\nHugh Miller modestly says, in his auto-\\nbiography The only merit to which I lay\\nclaim is that of patient research a merit in\\nwhich whoever wills may rival or surpass\\nme and this humble faculty of patience,\\nwhen rightly developed, may lead to more\\nextraordinary developments of idea than even\\ngenius itself\\nSurely it is wise to learn the lesson of\\npatience, as it will help us to see the bright\\nside in everything that happens.\\nTwo gardeners had their crops of peas\\nkilled by the frost. One of them was very\\nimpatient under the loss, and fretted about\\nit. The other patiently went to work to\\nplant a new crop. After awhile the impa-\\ntient man came to visit his neighbor. To\\nhis surprise he found another crop of peas\\ngrowing finely. He asked how this could be.\\nThis crop I sowed while you were fret-\\nting, said his neighbor.\\nBut don t you ever fret? he asked.\\nYes, I do; but I put it off till I have\\nrepaired the mischief that has been done.\\nWhy, then, you have no need to fret at\\nall.\\nTrue, said his friend; and that s the\\nreason why I put it off.\\nA Nervous Passenger.\\nIn one of the crowded eastern-bound trains\\non a western railroad, the patience of the\\npassengers was very sorely tried by the loud\\nand protracted cries of an infant, which\\nappeared to be solely in charge of a man.\\nAfter bearing with the disturbance some\\ntime, a nervous passenger protested against\\nit, and demanded that the baby should be\\nproperly cared for or removed from the car.\\nThe protest drew from the gentleman who\\nhad it in charge the following explanation:\\nLadies and gentlemen, I am very sorry\\nthat you have been so seriously incommoded\\nby the cric^ of this child; but I beg of you", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0324.jp2"}, "325": {"fulltext": "PATIENCE.\\n28\\nto be patient, and I shall explain. It is an\\norphan; its mother has recently died, and I\\nam taking it East to be cared for by its\\nfriends. The little thing is frightened, as\\nthe cars, its food, and the care it receives\\nare strange to it. I shall do all in my\\npower to make it comfortable and prevent\\nfurther annoyance.\\nThe sympathies of the passengers were\\nroused, and they not only showed a willing-\\nness to endure its cries, but raised a hand-\\nsome sum, by contribution, for its support.\\nForbearance and patience are divine at-\\ntributes, and it is our duty to cultivate them\\nunder all circumstances.\\nA good-humored acquiescence, and the\\ndisposition to make the best out of things\\nthat are unpleasant, is the true philosophy.\\nThe habitual grumbler and fault-finder will\\nhave ample opportunity to indulge his ill-\\nnatured inclinations while traveling; but\\nsuch a person is a very disagreeable com-\\npanion.\\nKeep it in Stock.\\nThere is a better way. Always have a\\ngood stock of patience on hand. Keep\\nyour store-room filled with it. There is\\nnothing you will want oftener, and nothing\\nthat will render you better service. Mothers\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0especially want it. Their children often for-\\nget that they are little angels. And mothers,\\ntoo, forget sometimes and become very cross.\\nMother, said a little girl, does God\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2ever scold? She had seen her mother,\\nunder circumstances of strong provocation,\\nlose her temper and give way to the impulse\\nof passion; and pondering thoughtfully for\\na moment she asked: Mother, does God\\never scold\\nThe question was so abrupt and startling\\nthat it arrested the mother s attention almost\\nwith a shock, and she said Why, my\\nchild, what makes you ask such a question?\\nBecause, mother, you have always told\\nme that God was good, and that we should\\ntry and be like him and I should like to\\nknow if he ever scolds.\\nNo, my child of course not.\\nWell, I m glad he doesn t, for scolding\\nalways hurts me, even if I feel I have done\\nwrong and it doesn t seem to me that I\\ncould love God very much if he scolded.\\nSpeaking Hastily.\\nThe mother felt rebuked before her simple\\nchild. Never before had she heard so forci-\\nble a lecture on the evils of scolding. The\\nwords of the child sank deep in her heart,\\nand she turned away from the innocent face\\nof the little one to hide the tears that gath-\\nered to her eyes. Children are quick ob-\\nservers and the child, seeing the effect of\\nher words, eagerly inquired\\nWh} do you cry, mother? Was it\\nnaughty for me to say what I said\\nNo, my child, it was all right. I was\\nonly thinking that I might have spoken more\\nkindly, and not have hurt your feelings by\\nspeaking so hastily, and in anger, as I did.\\nOh, mother, you are good and kind\\nonly I wish there were not so many bad\\nthings to make you fret and talk as you did\\njust now. It makes me feel away from you,\\nso far, as if I could not come near you, as I\\ncould when you speak kindly. And oh,\\nsometimes I fear I shall be put off so far I\\ncan never get back again.\\nNo, my child, don t say that, said the\\nmother, unable to keep back her tears, as\\nshe felt how her tones had repelled her little\\none from her heart and the child, wonder-\\ning what so affected her parent, but intui-\\ntively feeling it was a case requiring sympathy,\\nreached up, and throwing her arms about\\nher mother s neck, whispered", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0325.jp2"}, "326": {"fulltext": "290\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nMother, dear mother, do I make you\\ncry? Do you love me\\nO yes I love you more than I can tell,\\nsaid the parent, clasping the little one to her\\nbosom and I will try never to scold again,\\nbut if I have to reprove my child I will try\\nto do it, not in anger, but kindly, deeply as\\nI may be grieved that she has done wrong.\\n01 am so glad. I can get so near to\\nyou if you don t scold. And do you know,\\nmother, I want to love you so much, and I\\nwill try always to be good.\\nThe lesson was one that deeply moved\\nthat mother s heart, and has been an aid to\\nher for many a year. It impressed the great\\nprinciple of reproving in kindness, not in\\nanger, if we would gain the great end of\\nreproof the great end of winning the child,\\nat the same time, to what is right, and to the\\nparent s heart.\\nThe Angel of Patience.\\nTo cheer, to help us, children of the dust,\\nMore than one angel has Our Father given\\nBut one alone is faithful to her trust,\\nThe best, the brightest exile out of heaven.\\nHer ways are not the ways of pleasantness\\nHer paths are not the lightsome paths of joy\\nShe walks with wrongs that cannot find redress,\\nAnd dwells in mansions Time and Death destroy.\\nShe waits until her stem precursor. Care,\\nHas lodged on foreheads, open as the mom.\\nTo plough his deep, besieging trenches there\\nThe signs of struggles which the heart has borne.\\nBut when the first cloud darkens in our sky.\\nAnd face to face with Life we stand alone,\\nSilent and swift, behold she draweth nigh,\\nAnd mutely makes our sufferings her own.\\nUnto rebellious souls, that, mad with fate.\\nTo question God s eternal justice dare,\\nShe points above with looks that whisper, Wait\\nWhat seems confusion here is wisdom there,\\nDaughter of God who walkest with us here.\\nWho mak st our every tribulation thine.\\nSuch light hast thou in Earth s dim atmosphere.\\nHow must thy seat in heaven exalted shine\\nBayard Tayi^oe..\\nI ll Wait Awhile Longer.\\nI ll wait awhile longer\\nBefore I despair\\nBefore I sink under\\nMy burden of care.\\nNight cannot last always\\nThere must be a morn\\nSo I ll wait for the daylight,\\nAnd watch for the dawn.\\nI ll wait awhile longer\\nTo-morrow may be\\nThe brightest and fairest\\nOf morrows to me.\\nThe birds may be singing,\\nThe blossoms may start\\nIn bloom and in beauty\\nBe patient, O heart\\nI ll wait awhile longer\\nBefore I g^ve up\\nI ll drink, if it may be.\\nThe dregs from the cup.\\nStill watching, still hoping.\\nStill longing for day,\\nI ll wait awhile longer.\\nAnd waiting, I ll pray.\\nSee what patient industry can accomplish\\nHere are a few examples.\\nA few years ago there was a young\\nmechanic in a machine shop in New Haven,.\\nConnecticut. There came a business de-\\npression and the men were thrown out of\\nwork. This young man went to his em-\\nployers, told them he could not afford to be\\nidle, and asked permission to go to the shop\\nand make lathes. He would patiently wait\\nfor the time to come when they could be\\nsold and would ask only a reasonable com-\\nmission on his work.\\nThe employers were pleased at such ai\\nsuggestion as this, and let the young me-\\nchanic have his way. So while his old,\\nshopmates were loitering around he every\\nmorning was seen going to the shop, his tin\\ndinner pail in his hand, and some of them\\nreviled him for working on trust.\\nWhen the good times came the lathes that", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0326.jp2"}, "327": {"fulltext": "PATIENCE.\\n291\\nhe had builded were sold, he received cash\\nfor his time and a percentage, so that he\\nfound himself possessed of about a thousand\\ndollars, enough to pay the tradesmen what\\nhe owed and to leave a little surplus for the\\nbank.\\nA capitalist had seen this mechanic going\\nto work in those dismal times, and being\\ninterested made inquiry about him, and when\\nthe employers told this capitalist his story, he\\nscvught out the mechanic and offered to lend\\nhim a little money to go into the manufactur-\\ning business himself Thus he became his\\nown employer and the employer of a few\\nhands, the number of which was increased\\nfrom year to year until by and by he had as\\nmany as a thousand working for him.\\nElected Mayor.\\nThe qualities that had prevailed in his\\nfavor as a workingman and as an employer\\nof labor brought to him the respect of the\\ncommunity, so that by and by he was named\\nas the candidate of one of the parties for\\nMayor and was elected, although the oppos-\\ning party usually prevailed in that city by as\\nmuch as a majority of three thousand.\\nThen again his party named him as its\\ncandidate for Governor, and thus twenty-five\\nyears after he was a mechanic swinging his\\ntin dinner pail upon the streets he became\\nGovernor of Connecticut. That was the way\\nthat patient industry served one who began\\nas a humble workingman, the late Governor\\nHobart B. Bigelow.\\nYears ago, when the Erie Railroad was\\nmore conspicuous among the railroad sys-\\ntems of the country than it is now, a young\\nman was employed at a way station in a really\\nmenial capacity. But he did his work well,\\nso that he received some slight promotion.\\nThus little by little he was promoted until\\nhe had some charge of the local freight\\ntraffic. He did not give grudgingly of his\\ntime, but even in his leisure studied how to\\nimprove that business for the benefit of the\\ncompany. So that it happened by and by\\nthat the eyes of his employers were fixed\\nwith interest upon him and he received\\ngreater promotion.\\nIn his new field he ran against Commodore\\nVanderbilt, or perhaps the old Commodore\\nran against him, and in that way he was\\nbrought into the service of the New York\\nCentral, receiving a considerable salary, and\\nthen again was promoted until at last he had\\ncharge of its entire freight traffic, and with a\\nsalary of 1 5 ,ooo a year.\\nBut that was not all. When William H.\\nVanderbilt gave up the presidency of the\\nNew York Central system this man, who\\nhad once been a switchman at a way station,\\nbecame his successor, and thus the career of\\nthe late James H. Rutter, president of the\\nNew York Central, reveals that there is truth\\nin the statement of those who assert that\\nopportunity is open to every man in this\\ncountry according to his ability, his purpose\\nand his patient industry.\\nBeginning Life in Poverty.\\nIt is believed to be a safe estimate that a\\nvery large majority of the merchants in New\\nYork city and in other cities, who are not\\nonly successful but pre-eminently successful,\\nbegan life practically without a dollar. Of\\ncourse, there are some old houses, the tradi-\\ntions, possessions and business of which have\\ndescended from father to son. But these are\\nthe exceptions even in New York. The\\ngreater retail business houses were in nearly\\nevery case established by young men who\\nhad scarcely any capital excepting industry,\\nhealth and ambition. It is said of the pro-\\nprietors of the great houses in New York,\\nPhiladelphia, St. Louis, Cincinnati, Chicago", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0327.jp2"}, "328": {"fulltext": "292\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nand other towns, that nearly all of them\\nbegan life without a dollar.\\nStewart was a poor immigrant when he\\ncame to this country. Macy, who accumu-\\nlated millions before his death, began his\\nbusiness life in New York upon a credit of a\\nfew thousand dollars, and in many cases of\\nthe establishment of partnerships with these\\nsuccessful merchants, these relations were\\nmade with those who had worked their way\\nup by the hardest kind of toil from subor-\\ndinate and often menial places.\\nMarshall Jewell, Governor of Connecticut,\\nPostmaster General, Minister to Russia, capi-\\ntalist and the employer of labor, began his\\nlife as an apprentice at the tanner s vats.\\nAs a journeyman tanner he worked day\\nafter day over hours, and steeping his arms\\nin the chemicals employed for tanning pur-\\nposes, he was unable to sleep at night unless\\nhis arms were bare, and that habit he retained\\nuntil the day of his death.\\nThese examples show what can be accom-\\nplished by patient continuance in well doing.\\nSuppose these men had tried the short cut\\nto fame and fortune we would never have\\nheard of them. They knew how to work\\nand wait.\\nA Patient Mother.\\nI remember, says John Wesley, hear-\\ning my father say to my mother, How\\ncould you have the patience to tell that\\nblockhead the same thing twenty times over?\\nWhy, said she, if I had told him but nine-\\nteen times, I should have lost all my labor.\\nThe world was created during epochs of\\ntime. Rome was not built in a day. You\\ndid not grow to man s stature over night.\\nThere is seed-time and afterward harvest.\\nDo not think that everything can come at\\nonce. Possess your soul in patience. Do\\nnot expect impossibilities, but simply the\\npossible, for which proper efforts have been\\nmade. Patience is not in conflict with\\nenthusiasm. The one is co-partner with\\nthe other. Neither will get far without\\nthe other. Together they are invincible.\\nMost of us have had troubles all our\\nlives, and each day has brought more evil\\nthan we wished to endure. But if we were\\nasked to recount the sorrows of our lives,\\nhow many could we remember? How many\\nthat are six months old should we think\\nworthy to be remembered or mentioned?\\nTo-day s troubles look large, but a week\\nhence they will be forgotten and buried\\nout of sight.\\nMaking Troubles of Trifles.\\nIf you would keep a book, and every day\\nput down the things that worry you, and\\nsee what becomes of them, it would be a\\nbenefit to you. You allow a thing to annoy\\nyou, just as you allow a fly to settle on you\\nand plague you and you lose your temper\\n(or rather get it; for when men are sur-\\ncharged with temper they are said to have\\nlost it) and you justify yourselves for being\\nthrown off your balance by causes which\\nyou do not trace out. But if you would see\\nwhat it was that threw you off your balance\\nbefore breakfast, and put it down in a little\\nbook, and follow it out, and ascertain what\\nbecomes of it, you would see what a fool\\nyou were in the matter.\\nThe art of forgetting is a blessed art, but\\nthe art of overlooking is quite as important.\\nAnd if we should take time to write down\\nthe origin, the progress, and outcome of a\\nfew of our troubles, it would make us so\\nashamed of the fuss we make over them,\\nthat we should be glad to drop such things\\nand bury them at once in eternal forgetful-\\nness. Life is too short to be worn out in\\npetty worries, frettings, hatreds, and vexa-", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0328.jp2"}, "329": {"fulltext": "PATIENCE.\\n293\\ntions. Let us think only on whatsoever\\nthings are pure, and lovely, and gentle, and\\nof good report.\\nW^orking and Waiting.\\nA husbandman who many years\\nHad ploughed his field and sown in tears,\\nGrew weary with his doubts and fears\\nI toil in vain these rocks and sands\\nWill yield no harvest to my hands,\\nThe best seeds rot in barren lands.\\nMy drooping vine is withering\\nNo promised grapes its blossoms bring\\nNo birds among the branches sing\\nMy flock is dying on the plain\\nThe heavens are brass they yield no rain\\nThe earth is iron, I toil in vain\\nWhile yet he spake, a breath had stirred\\nHis drooping vine, like wing of bird.\\nAnd from its leaves a voice he heard:\\nThe germs and fruits of life must be\\nForever hid in mystery.\\nYet none can toil in vain for Me.\\nA mightier hand, more skilled than thine,\\nMust hang the clusters on the vine.\\nAnd make the fields with harvest shine.\\nMan can but work God can create\\nBut they who work, and watch, and wait,\\nHave their reward, though it come late.\\nLook up to heaven behold, and hear\\nThe clouds and thunderings in thy ear\\nAn answer to thy doubts and fear.\\nHe looked, and lo a cloud-draped car,\\nWith trailing smoke and flames afar,\\nWas rushing from a distant star\\nAnd every thirsty flock and plain\\nWas rising up to meet the rain,\\nThat came to clothe the fields with grain\\nAnd on the clouds he saw again,\\nThe covenant of God with men.\\nRewritten with his rainbow pen\\nSeed-time and harvest shall not fail.\\nAnd though the gates of hell assail.\\nMy truth and promise shall prevail\\nUnderstanding something of God s un-\\nconquerable patience, we shall have patience\\nwith men that nothing can overcome. See-\\ning how his rain and sunshine are freely\\ngiven to the evil and unthankful, we learn\\nto measure our giving not by men s deserts\\nbut by their needs. As it grows upon us\\nthat the whole vast system of nature and\\nprovidence, is regulated in every part by\\nthe one central force of love, we learn to\\nmake the same force central and sovereign:\\nin our lives.\\nPatience is the guardian of faith, the pre-\\nserver of peace, the cherisher of love, the\\nteacher of humility. Patience governs the\\nflesh, strengthens the spirit, stifles anger, ex-\\ntinguishes envy, subdues pride she bridles-\\nthe tongue, refrains the hand, tramples upoa\\ntemptations, endures persecutions, consum-\\nmates martyrdom. Patience produces unity\\nin the church, loyalty in the state, harmony\\nin families and societies; she comforts the\\npoor and moderates the rich; she makes us\\nhumble in prosperity, cheerful in adversity,\\nunmoved by calumny and reproach she\\nteaches us to forgive those who have injured\\nus, and to be first in asking forgiveness of\\nthose whom we have injured; she delights\\nthe faithful, and invites the unbelieving she\\nadorns the woman, and improves the man;\\nis loved in a child, praised in a young man,\\nadmired in an old man she is beautiful in\\neither sex and every age.\\nRecipe for Peace of Mind.\\nThe great remedy which heaven has put\\nin our hands is patience, by which, though\\nwe cannot lessen the torments of the body,\\nwe can in a great measure preserve the peace\\nof the mind, and shall suffer only the natural\\nand genuine force of an evil, without height-\\nening its acrimony or prolonging its effects.\\nThe chief security against the fruitless\\nanguish of impatience must arise from fre-\\nquent reflection on the wisdom and goodness\\nof the God of nature, in whose hands are\\nriches and poverty, honor and disgrace,\\npleasure and pain, and life and death. A\\nsettled conviction of the tendency of every-\\ni", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0329.jp2"}, "330": {"fulltext": "294\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nthing to our good, and of the possibility of\\nturning miseries into happiness, by receiving\\nthem rightly, will incline us to bless the name\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0of the Lord whether he gives or takes away.\\nBut what a lovely sight it is to behold a\\nperson burdened with many sorrows, and\\nperhaps his flesh upon him has pain and\\nanguish, while his soul mourns within him\\nyet his passions are calm, he possesses his\\nspirit in patience, he takes kindly all the re-\\nlief that his friends attempt to afford him, nor\\ndoes he give them any grief or uneasiness\\nbut what they feel through the force of mere\\nsympathy and compassion! Thus, even in\\nthe midst of calamities, he knits the hearts\\nof his friends faster to himself, and lays\\ngreater obligations upon their love by so\\nlovely and divine a conduct under the weight\\nof his heavy sorrows.\\nConquer Yourself.\\nBe patient with your friends. They are\\nneither omniscient nor omnipotent. They\\ncannot see your heart, and may misunder-\\nstand you. They do not know what is best\\nfor you, and may select what is worst. Their\\narms are short, and may not be able to reach\\nwhat you ask. What if also they lack purity\\nof purpose or tenacity of affection do not\\nyou also lack these graces? Patience is your\\nrefuge. Endure, and in enduring conquer\\nthem, and if not them, then at least yourself\\nAbove all, be patient with your beloved.\\nLove is the best thing on the earth, but it\\nis to be handled tenderly, and impatience is\\na nurse that kills it.\\nIt has been contended by high authority,\\nthat few men die of age, and that almost\\nall are victims of disappointment, passional,\\n^iOr mental, or bodily toil, or of accident.\\nThis may not be true to the full extent, but\\nit is measurably so. A large portion of\\nmankind wear themselves out by unneces-\\nsary excitement. They fret, fume and vex,\\nand absolutely shorten their days. They\\nstrain the human machine, until its cords\\nsnap and break. They overtask the intel-\\nlectual faculties, until at last they falter and\\nfail. And thus it is that moral suicide is\\ncommitted.\\nFeverish Impatience.\\nThe study of life, and the best means of\\nprolonging it, are not sufficiently attended\\nto. A large portion of the human family\\nare too impulsive. They are nervous, rest-\\nless, feverish, and excited. They cannot\\nwait for the ordinary progress of events.\\nThey rush on recklessly and impatiently,\\nbecome anxious and eager, and thus they\\nlose, not only the balance of mind, but the\\nabsolute control of the physical man.\\nThis is especially the case in this country,\\nand hence, as compared with some portions\\nof the old world, our average duration of life\\nis quite Hmited. Thousands, we repeat,\\nperish every year, through feverish anxiety\\nand unnecessary excitement. They are not\\ndisposed to be calm, patient, and resolute,\\nand to pursue an even and correct course\\nbut they seek to accomplish a certain end by\\na sudden movement. They are not satisfied\\nwith ascending the ladder of fame or fortune,\\nstep by step, but bound upward, three or\\nfour rounds at a time, and thus they often\\nlose their grasp or foothold, and are dashed\\nto the earth. We overtask our strength,\\nassume fearful responsibilities, and nurse\\nconsuming anxieties. Many fancy that they\\nmust be here, there and everywhere, that no\\nwork can get on without them, that their\\ncounsel, their efforts, and their direct inter-\\nference, are absolutely essential.\\nAnd thus they toil on from day to day,\\nand from year to year, until at last the delu-\\nsion and the error are dispelled, by realizing", "height": "3497", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0330.jp2"}, "331": {"fulltext": "PATIENCE.\\n295\\nthe startling fact, that they too are fallible,\\nand that the physical or mental man has\\ngiven way, before unnecessarily assumed\\nresponsibilities and anxieties. Then comes\\nthe hour of self-reproach, of regret and peni-\\ntence. But, alas who shall bring back the\\nrosy hue of health to the cheek of the con-\\nsumptive, impart fresh strength to the totter-\\ning step of premature age, or re-illumine the\\nflickering and fading light of intellect\\nBe patient with your pains and cares. We\\nknow it is easy to say and hard to do. But\\nyou must be patient. These things are\\nkilled by enduring them, and made strong\\nto bite and sting by feeding them with frets\\nand fears. There is no pain or care that can\\nlast long. None of them shall enter the city\\nof God. A little while and you shall leave\\nbehind you the whole troop of howling\\ntroubles, and forget in your first sweet hour\\nof rest that such things were on earth.\\nNever lose your confidence that matters\\nwill come right in the end. The world is\\ngoverned better than any of us could govern\\nit. If we wait and labor, we cannot suffer\\nbeyond remedy.\\nAs at their work two weavers sat,\\nBeguiling time with a friendly chat,\\nThey touched upon the price of meat,\\nSo high, a weaver scarce could eat.\\nTHE TWO WEAVERS.\\nFor where s the middle? where s the border?\\nThy carpet now is all disorder.\\nWhat with my brats and sickly wife,\\nQuoth Dick, I m almost tired of life\\nSo hard my work, so poor my fare,\\nTis more than mortal man can bear.\\nHow glorious is the rich man s state\\nHis bouse so fine, his wealth so great\\nHeaven is unjust, you must agree\\nWhy all to him Why none to me\\nIn spite of what the Scripture teaches,\\nIn spite of all the parson preaches,\\nThis world (indeed I ve thought so long)\\nIs ruled, methinks, extremely wrong.\\nWhere er I look, howe er I range,\\nTis all confused and hard and strange\\nThe good are troubled and oppressed,\\nAnd all the wicked are the blessed.\\n2uoth John, Our ignorance is the cause\\nWhy thus we blame our Maker s laws\\nParts of His ways alone we know\\nTis all that man can see below.\\nSee st thou that carpet, not half done.\\nWhich thou, dear Dick, hast well begun\\nBehold the wild confusion there.\\nSo rude the mass it makes one stare\\nA stranger, ignorant of the trade.\\nWould say, no meaning s there conveyed;\\nQuoth Dick, My work is yet in bits.\\nBut still in every part it fits\\nBesides, you reason like a lout\\nWhy man, that carpet s inside out.\\nSays John, Thou say st the thing I mean.\\nAnd now I hope to cure thy spleen\\nThis world, which clouds thy soul with doubt.\\nIs but a carpet inside out.\\nAs when we view these shreds and ends.\\nWe know not what the whole intends\\nSo, when on earth, things look but odd,\\nThey re working still some scheme of God,\\nNo plan, no pattern, can we trace\\nAll wants proportion, truth, and grace\\nThe motley mixture we deride,\\nNor see the beauteous upper side.\\nBut when we reach that world of light.\\nAnd view those works of God aright,\\nThen shall we see the whole design,\\nAnd own the Workman is Divine.\\nWhat now seem random strokes, will there\\nAll order and design appear\\nThen shall we praise what here we spurned,\\nFor then the carpet shall be turned.\\nThou rt right, quoth Dick nomore I ll grumble\\nThat this sad world s so strange a jumble\\nMy impious doubts are put to flight.\\nFor my own carpet sets me right.\\nHannah Mors.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0331.jp2"}, "332": {"fulltext": "THE LAST HOPE.\\n296", "height": "3496", "width": "2603", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0332.jp2"}, "333": {"fulltext": "CHAPTBR XVIII.\\nHOPE.\\nEN sentenced to imprison-\\nI \u00e2\u0084\u00a2p)p^ y ment for life seldom give\\nPlWmW.lW up the hope of some day-\\nprocuring their liberty.\\nThis is observed by the\\nwardens of all our prisons.\\nBy a reprieve through the\\nintercessions of friends, or\\nby a lucky escape, such prisoners flatter\\nthemselves that they will leave the prison\\nbars behind them. And this hope sustains\\nthem, makes them comparatively cheerful,\\nenables them to do their work without com-\\nplaint, and submit peacefully to discipline.\\nWithout hope they would soon grow sullen,\\ngive way to despair, become desperate and\\nwould attempt self-destruction.\\nHow true it is that hope springs eternal\\nin the human breast. It is the friend of\\nthe weary, the disconsolate, the sorrowing.\\nHope on, hope ever, is the charmer that\\nbrings rest to the feverish pillow, comfort to\\nthe stricken heart, strength to the fainting\\ntoiler, and turns shadows into sunshine.\\nHope is an angel. Her eyes are bright as\\nmorning. Her lips smile and her face glows.\\nHer step has the spring of yoiith. She\\nbounds like the swift gazelle. There is\\nsweeter music in her voice than that of any\\nPatti who charms thousands with bird-like\\nmelodies. She is never weary and shadows\\nnever darken her brow. She has the fresh-\\nness of early dew about her; her movements\\nare nimble and she plays as young lambs\\nskip in the green pastures.\\nWhen we are downcast she comes with\\nk\\ngood cheer. Like charity, she never faileth.\\nNo sickness can alarm her. No night caa\\nmake her timid. Tears only draw her\\nnearer. Misfortune has no terrors for her.\\nShe is the friend of the rich and poor. She\\ndawns on every eye, crosses every path,,\\nholds out her hand to every sufferer, paints\\nvictory on every cloud. Her triumphs are\\ngrander than those of generals. She does\\nnot halt mountains are plains to her. She\\nnerves the shrinking heart and fires the lan-\\nguid spirit.\\nHope paints her palace on the hilltop and\\nfrom its beaming turrets gleams a light that\\nkindles every eye. We press toward the\\nopen gates. Through winding passages and.\\nthick shadows we still see the glory a little-\\nbeyond. We droop in sorrow, but, lifting\\nour eyes, the tears dry. The winter flees\\naway the summer comes and the singing of\\nbirds.\\nWhen You May Hope.\\nBut there must be some foundation for\\nhope, and there must be action too. You\\nmust be wide-awake, up and doing, your\\nfoot forward, your eye keen, your valor\\naroused, your nerves taut, your face set\\nlike a flint, your powers called into action.\\nThen you have good reason to hope.\\nThere are people who hope, but they are\\ndoing this kind of business on an amount of\\ncapital that would not start a boot-black or\\nset up a peanut stand. It is all sand under\\nthem, nothing soHd. They can hope on\\nnothing. Idle, lazy, dull, shiftless, they are\\n297", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0333.jp2"}, "334": {"fulltext": "-298\\nHOPE.\\nhoping something will turn up, but it\\nnever does and never will, until they go\\nand turn it up for themselves. And so they\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0drag on year after year, and the end of every\\nyear finds them no farther along than the\\nlast one did. They do nothing but hope,\\nand that is the poorest-paying business any\\nmortal ever got into. Sell it out, give it\\naway, get rid of it somehow. There is noth-\\ning in it but disappointment.\\nHow many men have tried to invent a\\nperpetual motion, and all the time have been\\nhoping to succeed. One man in Georgia\\nspent thirty years at this kind of nonsense\\nthe only perpetual motion he discovered was\\na hope never realized. If such visionaries\\nonly knew that a perpetual motion is con-\\ntrary to the laws of nature, they would\\nsuddenly part with a false expectation, and\\nperhaps be of some use in the world. They\\nwill succeed when the laws of God forget\\nthemselves and cease to operate. And there\\nare multitudes of hopes that are founded on\\na lack of knowledge, and are therefore delu-\\nsive.\\nTired of the Old Farm.\\nFor this reason hope does not have a fair\\nchance. It is not realized simply because\\nimmutable laws are against it. If we were\\nwiser, we would hope better. Here is a\\nyoung man who hopes to get rich. He is\\ntired of work on the old farm. It is the\\nsame old humdrum. He is soft-skinned;\\nhis hands have a way of blistering every\\ntime he does any work. It is dull business,\\nthis holding a plow and sawing wood. He\\nhas read of men who speculated, started with\\nnothing, got rich, bought railroads, owned\\nyachts, kept fast horses, lived in style, wore\\na new neck-tie every day. Their patent\\nleathers are very different from his old cow-\\nhide boots, and he is not going to stand it.\\nHe will be as rich as they some day; he\\nhas no doubt about it. Yet, what has he to\\nbuild this hope upon He has no capital,\\nno experience, no knowledge of business, no\\ntact, perhaps very little natural ability.\\nThis is not saying that there should be\\nno ambition or determination to rise in the\\nworld. It is saying that a young man\\nshould be hard-headed, should have com-\\nmon sense, undertake only what he can\\ncarry out, and base his expectations on\\nfacts. I knew a man who thought he had\\nconstructed a flying-machine. He was going\\nto fly. He climbed to the top of the barn\\nand tried it. It is worthy of remark that\\nafter he recovered from a cracked skull and\\na few broken bones he did not try it again.\\nFulton and his Steamboat.\\nAnd so history is, to a large extent, the\\nrecord of disappointments. In 1803 the\\nfirst steamboat of Livingston and Fulton\\nwas built in France upon the Seine. When\\nshe was almost ready for the experimental\\ntrip a misfortune befell her which would\\nhave dampened the ardor of a man less\\ndetermined than Fulton. Rising one morn-\\ning, after a sleepless night, a messenger from\\nthe boat, with horror and despair written\\nupon his countenance, burst into his pres-\\nence, exclaiming O, sir the boat has\\nbroken in pieces and gone to the bottom!\\nFor a moment Fulton was utterly over-\\nwhelmed. Never in his whole life, he used\\nto say, was he so near despairing as then.\\nHastening to the river, he found, indeed, that\\nthe weight of the machinery had broken the\\nframework of the vessel, and she lay on the\\nbottom of the river, in plain sight, a mass of\\ntimber and iron. Instantly, with his own\\nhands, he began the work of raising her, and\\nkept at it, without food or rest, for twenty-\\nfour hours an exertion which permanently", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0334.jp2"}, "335": {"fulltext": "THE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\n299\\n-injured his health. His death in the prime\\n-of life was, in all probability, remotely caused\\nby the excitement, exposure, and toil of that\\nterrible day and night.\\nWashington Irving in his Life of Colum-\\nbus relates that on one occasion the great\\nnavigator w^as sorely disappointed. While\\nColumbus, his pilot, and several of his ex-\\nperienced mariners were studying the map,\\n-and endeavoring to make out from it their\\nactual position, they heard a shout from the\\nPinta, and looking up, beheld Martin Alonzo\\nPinzon mounted on the stem of his vessel\\n-crying, Land! land! Sehor, I claim my\\nreward He pointed at the same time to\\nthe southwest, where there was indeed an\\n.appearance of land at about twenty-five\\n.leagues distance.\\nNothing but a Cloud.\\nUpon this Columbus threw himself on his\\nknees and returned thanks to God and\\nMartin Alonzo repeated the Gloria in excelsis,\\nin which he was joined by his own crew and\\nthat of the admiral. The seamen now\\nmounted to the masthead or climbed about\\nthe rigging, straining their eyes in the direc-\\n~tion pointed out. The morning light, how-\\never, put an end to all their hopes, as to a\\ndream. The fancied land proved to be\\nnothing but an evening cloud, and had\\nvanished in the night.\\nIt is not certain, however, that the disap-\\npointments of to-day will not give place to\\nrealized hope to-morrow. Columbus was\\nnot discouraged in fact nothing could turn\\nhim back, and hope had its final reward.\\nWhen Cicero stood for the praetorship he\\nhad many competitors who were persons of\\ndistinction, and yet he was returned first.\\nAs a president in the courts of justice he\\nacted with great integrity and honor. Li-\\n-cinius Macer, who had great interest of his\\nown, and was supported, beside, with that of\\nCrassus, was accused before him of some\\ndefault with respect to money. He had so\\nmuch confidence in his own influence and\\nthe activity of his friends, that when the\\njudges were going to decide the cause, it is\\nsaid he went home, cut his hair, and put on\\na white habit, as if he had gained the victory,\\nand was about to return so equipped to the\\nforum. But Crassus met him in his court-\\nyard, and told him that all the judges had\\ngiven a verdict against him which affected\\nhim in such a manner that he turned in\\nagain, took to his bed, and died.\\nKing Richard s Crusade.\\nRichard I, king of England, was called\\nthe Lion Hearted on account of his prowess\\nand bold enterprises. He was the leader of\\nthe third Crusade which had for its object\\nthe recovery of the Holy Land from the\\nMohammedans. The English monarch went\\non from victory to victory. The most re-\\nmarkable of his battles was that near to\\nAscalon, where he engaged and defeated\\nSaladin, king of Jerusalem, the most re-\\nnowned of the Saracen monarchs, and left\\n40,000 of the enemy dead on the field.\\nAscalon surrendered, as did several other\\ncities, to the victorious Richard, who now\\nprepared for the siege of Jerusalem, the\\ncapture of which was the object of this\\ngreat enterprise; but at the most import-\\nant crisis, which if fortunate as everything\\nseemed to promise would have terminated\\nthe expedition in the most glorious manner,\\nthe king of England, on a review of his\\narmy, found them so wasted with famine,\\nwith fatigue, and even with victory, that\\nwith the utmost mortification of heart he\\nwas obliged to entirely abandon the enter-\\nprise. The war was finished by a truce\\nwith Saladin.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0335.jp2"}, "336": {"fulltext": "iM wi \u00c2\u00abf\\nKING RICHARD LANDING AT JAFFA TO RECOVER THE HOLY LAND.\\n300", "height": "5609", "width": "3673", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0336.jp2"}, "337": {"fulltext": "THE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\n301\\nThat is good advice which some one gives:\\nno man ought ever to settle an important\\nquestion when he is discouraged or de-\\npressed; he ought to recognize such a\\ncondition as something abnormal and un-\\nhealthful a condition which makes wise\\njudgment and right action impossible. If\\nwe learn to treat our times of depression\\nand discouragement as symptoms of disease,\\nand avoid deciding or acting when they are\\nupon us to look at them as something\\napart from our best and truest selves we\\nshall avoid the mistakes into which they wiU\\nlead us, and we shall do much to overcome\\nthem.\\nBut it must be confessed that many times\\nin life there are many things which make the\\ntorch of hope burn dimly and seem some-\\ntimes to almost put it out. There are flares\\nand draughts and doubtful places which\\nevery one must pass through.\\nAshes of Disappointment,\\nThere are burdens heavy to be borne\\nand longings steadily unmet and ghosts\\nof fears which threaten to change from\\nghosts to verities; and perplexities to dis-\\ntract; and all the time the tense, hard\\nstruggle with the evil in one s self; and\\nprayers which seem unanswered; and the\\nreaction from heavy strains of work; and\\nsometimes the bitter humdrum of the daily\\nduty; and the frequent consciousness of\\nfailure; and heaps of ashes of disappoint-\\nment; and the wakeful hours in the middle\\nof the night, when troubles take on exag-\\ngerated shape and gesture; and often unin-\\ntentional deeds and words of friends, which\\nto you seem to have the sharpest edges, cut\\nto the quick; and the problems of expe-\\nrience; and the mystery of life around;\\nand the denser mystery of death ahead,\\ninto which every one of us must pass, a\\nlonely pilgrim there are these things,\\nand other things like them almost innu-\\nmerable.\\nAnd amidst them all, our hopes, like the\\nlamp of the foolish virgins in the parable,\\nseem often smouldering out, if, indeed, they\\nhave not gone out entirely. But still we\\nmust have hope. The hopeless soul is the\\ndefeated soul. Some unfailing oil for the\\nlamp of hope that is the direst necessity\\nsometimes, at least, for every one of us.\\nCharacteristics of Hope.\\nWhat is hope The beauteous sun,\\nWhich colors all it shines upon\\nThe beacon of life s dreary sea\\nThe star of immortality\\nFountain of feeling, young and warm,\\nA day-beam bursting through the storm\\nA tone of melody, whose birth\\nIs, oh too sweet, too pure, for earth\\nA blossom of that radiant tree\\nWhose fruit the angels only see\\nA beauty, and a charm, whose power\\nIs seen, enjoyed, confessed, each hour\\nA portion of that world to come\\nWhen earth and ocean meet the last o erwhelming\\ndoom.\\nCharles Swain.\\nInfluence of Hope.\\nAuspicious hope in thy sweet garden grow\\nWreaths for each toil, a charm for every woe\\nWon by their sweets, in Nature s languid hour\\nThe way-worn pilgrim seeks thy summer bower\\nThere as the wild bee murmurs on the wing\\nWhat peaceful dreams thy handmaid spirits bring\\nWhat viewless forms the iGolian organs play,\\nAnd sweep the furrowed lines of anxious thought\\naway.\\nThomas Campbell.\\nSays Charles Dickens There is nothing\\nno, nothing beautiful and good that dies\\nand is forgotten. An infant, a prattling child,\\ndying in its cradle, will live again in the\\nbetter thoughts of those who loved it, and\\nplay its part, though its body be burned to\\nashes or drowned in the deepest sea. There", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0337.jp2"}, "338": {"fulltext": "302\\nHOPE.\\nis not an angel added to the hosts of\\nheaven but does its blessed work on earth\\nin those who loved it here. Dead Oh, if\\ngood deeds of human creatures could be\\ntraced to their source, how beautiful would\\neven death appear for how much charity,\\nI mercy, and purified affection would be seen\\nto have their growth in dusty graves.\\nLongfellow says The setting of a great\\nhope is like the setting of the sun. The\\nbrightness of our life is gone, shadows of the\\nevening fall around us, and the world seems\\nbut a dim reflection itself a broader shadow.\\nWe look forward into the coming lonely\\nnight the soul withdraws itself. Then stars\\narise, and the night is holy.\\nHappy is the man who has that in his\\nsoul which acts upon the dejected as April\\nair upon violet roots. Gifts from the hand\\nare silver and gold, but the heart gives that\\nwhich neither silver nor gold can buy. To\\nbe full of goodness, full of cheerfulness, full\\nof sympathy, full of helpful hope, causes a\\nman to carry blessings of which he himself\\nis as unconscious as a lamp is of its own\\nshining. Such an one moves on human life\\nas stars move on dark seas to bewildered\\nmariners as the sun wheels, bringing all the\\nseasons with him from the south.\\nImmortal Hope.\\nHope humbly, then, with trembling pinions soar,\\nWait the great teacher, death and God adore.\\nWhat s future bliss. He gives not thee to know,\\nBut gives that hope to be thy blessing now.\\nHope springs eternal in the human breast\\nMan never is, but always to be blest\\nThe soul uneasy and confined from hotae.\\nRests and expatiates in a life to come.\\nAlexander Popb.\\nFaith and Hope.\\nFountain of song, its prayer begins and ends,\\nHope is the wing by which the soul ascends\\nSome may allege I wander from the path.\\nAnd give to hope the proper rights of faith\\nLike love and friendship, these, a comely pair,\\nWhat s done by one, the other has a share\\nWhen heat is felt, we judge that fire is near,\\nHope s twilight comes faith s day will soon appear.\\nThus when the Christian s contest doth begin,\\nHope fights with doubts, till faith s reserves come in\\nHope comes desiring and expects relief\\nFaith follows, and peace springs from firm belief.\\nHope balances occurrences of time\\nFaith will not stop till it has reached the prime.\\nJust like co-partners in joint stock of trade,\\nWhat one contracts is by the other paid.\\nMake use of hope thy laboring soul to cheer.\\nFaith shall be giv n if thou wilt persevere.\\nWe see all things alike with either eye.\\nSo faith and hope the self-same object spy.\\nBut what is hope? or where or how begun\\nIt comes from God, as light comes from the sun.\\nThomas Hogo.\\nThe old philosopher Diogenes says hope\\nis the last thing that dies in man. The\\npoet Hesiod tells us that the miseries of\\nall mankind were included in a great box,\\nand that Pandora took off the lid of it, by\\nwhich means all of them came abroad, and\\nhope only remained. Hope is the truest\\nfriend and remains with us until the last,\\nHope frequents the poor man s hut as\\nwell as the palace of the rich.\\nGifts Made by Alexander.\\nBefore Alexander set out on his expedition\\nagainst the Persians he settled the affairs of\\nMacedon, over which he appointed Antipater\\nas viceroy, with 12,000 foot, and nearly the\\nsame number of horse. He also inquired\\ninto the domestic affairs of his friends, giving\\nto one an estate in land, to another a village,\\nto a third the revenues of a town, to a fourth\\nthe toll of a harbor. And as all his revenues\\nwere already employed and exhausted by his\\ndonations, Perdiccas said to him, My lord, I\\nwhat is it you reserve for yourself? Alex-\\nander replying, Hope, The same hope,\\nsays Perdiccas, ought therefore to satisfy", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0338.jp2"}, "339": {"fulltext": "THE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\n303-.\\nI\\nus, and very generously refused to accept\\nof what the king had assigned to him.\\nChiefest of blessings is hope, the most\\ncommon of possessions for, as Thales, the\\nphilosopher said, Even those who have\\nnothing else have hope. Hope is the great\\nhelper of the poor. It has even been styled\\nthe poor man s bread. It is also the sus-\\ntainer and inspirer of great deeds.\\nThe pleasures of memory, however great,\\nare stale compared with those of hope for\\nhope is the parent of all effort and endeavor)\\nand every gift of noble origin is breathed\\nupon by hope s perpetual breath. It may\\nbe said to be the moral engine that moves\\nthe world and keeps it in action and at the\\nend of all there stands before us what Rob-\\nertson styled the great hope. If it were\\nnot for hope, said Byron, where would\\nthe future be? in hell! It is useless to say\\nwhere the present is, for most of us know\\nand as for the past, what predominates in\\nmemory? Hope baffled. Therefore, in all\\nhuman affairs, it is hope, hope, hope!\\nHope s Promise.\\nSometimes when I am sore cast down.\\nAnd labor seems in vain, in vain,\\nHope sings to me this silver strain,\\nHe who endures shal. wear a crown\\nSometimes, when I would flee the frown\\nOf adverse fate that frights my soul,\\nHope whispers, pointing to the goal,\\nHe who endures shall wear a crown\\nSometimes when I am weary grown.\\nAnd baffled by the foes I meet,\\nHope spurs me with this promise sweet,\\nHe who endures shall wear a crown\\nSusie M. Best.\\nEvery man is sufficiently discontented with\\nsome circumstances of his present state, to\\nsuffer his imagination to range more or less\\nin quest of future happiness, and to fix upon\\nsome point of time, in which, by the removal\\nof the inconvenience which now perplexes\\nhim, or acquisition of the advantages which\\nhe at present wants, he shall find the condi-\\ntion of his life very much improved.\\nWhen this time, which is too often ex-\\npected with great impatience, at last arrives,,\\nit generally comes without the blessing for\\nwhich it was desired; but we solace our-\\nselves with some new prospect, and press,\\nforward again with equal eagerness.\\nIt is lucky for a man, in whom this temper\\nprevails, when he turns his hopes upon things\\nwholly out of his own power; since he for-\\nbears then to precipitate his affairs, for the\\nsake of the great event that is to complete\\nhis felicity, and waits for the blissful hour\\nwith less neglect of the measures necessary-\\nto be taken in the meantime.\\nA Light in all Dark Places.\\nHope is necessary in every condition. The-\\nmiseries of poverty, of sickness, or captivity,\\nwould, without this comfort, be insupporta-\\nble; nor does it appear that the happiest lot\\nof terrestrial existence can set us above the\\nwant of this general blessing; or that life,\\nwhen the gifts of nature and of fortune are\\naccumulated upon it, would not still be\\nwretched, were it not elevated and delighted\\nby the expectation of some new possession,\\nof some enjoyment yet behind, by which the\\nwish shall be at last satisfied, and the heart\\nfilled up to its utmost extent.\\nHope is, indeed, very fallacious, and\\npromises what it seldom gives; but its.\\npromises are more valuable than the gifts\\nof fortune, and it seldom frustrates us with-\\nout assuring us of recompensing the delay\\nby a greater bounty.\\nDisappointment seldom cures us of ex-\\npectation, or has any other effect than that\\nof producing a moral sentence or peevish\\nexclamation.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0339.jp2"}, "340": {"fulltext": "THE SURE AND STEADFAST ANCHOR.", "height": "3497", "width": "2706", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0340.jp2"}, "341": {"fulltext": "THE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\n505\\nWe rise on stepping stones of our dead\\nselves to higher things. No one soul is so\\nobscure that God does not take thought for\\nits schooling. The sun is the central light\\nof the universe, but it has a mission to the\\nripening corn and the purpling clusters of\\nthe vine. The sunshine that comes filtering\\nthrough the morning mists, with healing in\\nits wings, and charms all the birds to sing-\\ning, should have also a message from God\\nto sad hearts. No soul is so grief-laden\\nthat it may not be lifted to sources of\\nheavenly comfort by recognizing the divine\\nlove in the perpetual recurrence of earthly\\nblessings\\nThe night is mother of the day.\\nThe -winter of the spring\\nAnd even upon old decay\\nThe greenest mosses cling.\\nBehind the cloud the star-light lurks\\nThrough showers the sunbeams fall\\nFor God, who loveth all his works.\\nHath left his hope with all.\\nThe man who carries a lantern in a dark\\nnight can have friends all around him, walk-\\ning safely by the help of its rays, and be not\\ndefrauded. So he who has the God-given\\nlight of hope in his breast can help on many\\nothers in this world s darkness, not to his\\nown loss, but to their precious gain.\\nSteadfast Hope.\\nHope sets the stamp of vanity on all\\nThat men have deemed substantial since the fall.\\nYet has the wondrous virtue to educe\\nFrom emptiness itself a real use\\nAnd while she takes, as at a father s hand,\\nWhat health and sober appetite demand,\\nFrom fading good derives, with chemic art,\\nThe lasting happiness, a thankful heart.\\nHope, with uplifted foot, set free from earth,\\nPants for the place of her ethereal birth,\\nOn steady wings sails through the immense abyss,\\nPlucks amaranthine joys from bowers of bliss,\\nAnd crowns the soul, while yet a mourner here.\\nWith wreaths like those triumphant spirits wear.\\nHope, as an anchor firm and sure, holds fast\\nThe Christian vessel, and defies the blast.\\nHope nothing else can nourish and secure\\nHis new-born virtues, and preserve him pure.\\nHope let the wretch, once conscious of the joy.\\nWhom now despairing agonies destroy,\\nSpeak for he can, and none so well as he\\nWhat treasures centre, what delights in thee.\\nHad he the gems, the spices, and the land\\nThat boasts the treasure, all at his command\\nThe fragrant grove, the inestimable mine.\\nWere light, when viewed against one smile of thine.\\nWilliam Cowper.\\nOur actual enjoyments are so few and\\ntransient that man would be a very misera-\\nble being were he not endowed with this\\npassion, which gives him a taste of those\\ngood things that may possibly come into\\nhis possession. We should hope for every-\\nthing that is good, says the old poet Linus,\\nbecause there is nothing which may not be\\nhoped for, and nothing but what the gods\\nare able to give us. Hope quickens all the\\nstill parts of life, and keeps the mind awake\\nin her most remiss and indolent hours. It\\ngives habitual serenity and good humor. It\\nis a kind of vital heat in the soul, that cheers\\nand gladdens her, when she does not attend\\nto it. It makes pain easy, and labor pleasant.\\nHope of a Better Life.\\nMy next observation is this, that a relig-\\nious life is that which most abounds in a\\nwell-grounded hope, and such an one as is\\nfixed on objects that are capable of making\\nus entirely happy. This hope in a religious\\nman is much more sure and certain than\\nthe hope of any temporal blessing, as it is\\nstrengthened not only by reason, but by\\nfaith. It has at the same time its eye per-\\npetually fixed on that state, which implies\\nin the very notion of it the most full and\\nthe most complete happiness.\\nReligious hope has likewise this advantage\\nabove any other kind of hope, that it is able\\nk", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0341.jp2"}, "342": {"fulltext": "306\\nHOPE.\\nto revive the dying man, and to fill his mind\\nnot only with secret comfort and refreshment,\\nbut sometimes with rapture and transport.\\nHe triumphs in his agonies, whilst the soul\\nsprings forward with delight to the great\\nobject which she has always had in view,\\nand leaves the body with an expectation\\nof being reunited to her in a glorious and\\njoyful resurrection.\\nIt is a precept several times inculcated by\\nHorace, that we should not entertain a hope\\nof anything in life which lies at a great dis-\\ntance from us. The shortness and uncer-\\ntainty of our time here makes such a kind\\nof hope unreasonable and absurd. The\\ngrave lies unseen between us and the object\\nwhich we reach after. Where one man lives\\nto enjoy the good he has in view, ten thou-\\nsand are cut off in the pursuit of it.\\nFruition of Hope.\\nO \u00c2\u00abend me down a draught of love,\\nOr take me hence to drink above\\nHere, Marah s water fills my cup\\nBut there, all griefs are swallowed up.\\nLove here is scarce a faint desire\\nBut there, the spark s a flaming fire\\nJoys here are drops, that passing flee\\nBut there, an overflowing sea.\\nMy faith, that sees so darkly here.\\nWill there resign to vision clear\\nMy hope, that s here a weary groan,\\nWill to fruition yield the throne.\\nRai,ph BrSKIne.\\nOne of the most fatal things in the life of\\nfaith is discouragement. One of the most\\nhelpful is cheerfulness. A very wise man\\nonce said that in overcoming temptations\\ncheerfulness was the first thing, cheerfulness\\nthe second, and cheerfulness the third. We\\nmust expect to conquer. That is why the\\nLord said so often to Joshua, Be strong\\nand of a good courage; Be not afraid.\\nneither be thou dismayed Only be thou\\nstrong and very courageous.\\nAnd it is also the reason he says to us,\\nLet not your heart be troubled, neither let\\nit be afraid. The power of temptation is in\\nthe fainting of our own hearts. Satan knows\\nthis well, and he always begins his assaults\\nby discouraging us, if he can in any way\\naccomplish it.\\nA Striking Allegory.\\nI remember once hearing an allegory that\\nillustrated this to me wonderfully. Satan\\ncalled together a council of his servants to\\nconsult how they might make a good man\\nsin. One evil spirit started up and said, I\\nwill make him sin. How will you do it\\nasked Satan. I will set before him the\\npleasures of sin, was the reply I will tell\\nhim of its delights and the rich rewards it\\nbrings.\\nAh said Satan, that will not do\\nhe has tried it, and knows better than that.\\nThen another spirit started up and said, I\\nwill make him sin. What will you do?\\nasked Satan. I will tell him of the pains\\nand sorrows of virtue. I will show him that\\nvirtue has no delights and brings no rewards.\\nAh, no! exclaimed Satan, that will not\\ndo at all for he has tried it, and knows that\\nwisdom s ways are ways of pleasantness and\\nall her paths are peace.\\nWell, said another imp, starting up, I\\nwill undertake to make him sin. And\\nwhat will you do asked Satan, again.\\nI will discourage his soul, was the short\\nreply. Ah, that will do! cried Satan,\\nthat will do We shall conquer him now.\\nAnd they did.\\nAn old writer says, All discouragement\\nis from the devil, and I wish every Christian\\nwould take this as a pocket-piece, and never\\nforget it. We must fly from discouragement", "height": "3497", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0342.jp2"}, "343": {"fulltext": "THE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\n307\\nas we would from sin, and keep our eyes\\nbright with undying hope.\\nIf we give way to despondency, if we\\nyield our energy and strength before the\\nfirst whirlwind of misfortune, we shall soon\\ndiscover that we have made a sad calcula-\\ntion. Life is made up of sunshine and\\nshadow. None can expect exemption from\\ntrial and vicissitude, and when these mis-\\nfortunes come, they should be encountered\\nwith a brave spirit, and a determination to\\ndeserve better for the future.\\nWe can conceive of no more noble-hearted\\nbeing, than the individual who goes about\\nencouraging and consoling, who has a good\\nword on all occasions, and who endeavors\\nnot only to render his own pathway as bright\\nand as cheerful as possible, but to inspire\\nconfidence, hope, and courage in the minds\\nand hearts of others.\\nHowever dark the day may be, he sees\\nsunshine in the morrow. Whatever misfor-\\ntunes may surround the present, he encour-\\nages the sufferer to wrestle in a manly spirit,\\nsatisfied that a better and brighter season is\\nat hand. He sympathizes with the afflicted,\\nand at the same time whispers words of hope.\\nThe calamity is serious, he admits, but it\\nmight have been worse.\\nAnd then, he argues, adversity has its\\nuses. He shows how poor a dependence\\nman may have upon himself, and how neces-\\nsary is the reliance upon Providence. He\\never encourages the doctrine of time, faith,\\nand energy. He cites similar cases, and\\nshows that the gloom is likely to prove but\\ntemporary, and that change and prosperity\\nwill soon come. How much better this than\\nthe spirit of the croaker!\\nA living hope, living in death itself: the\\nworld dares say no more for its device than\\nDitm spiro spero While I breathe, I\\nhope; but the children of God can add\\nby virtue of this living hope, Dum spiro\\nspero While I expire, I hope.\\nLike a valiant captain in a losing battle,\\nhope is ever encouraging man, and never\\nleaves him till they both expire together.\\nIt is almost as the air by which the mind\\ndoth live.\\nONE PRECIOUS HOPE.\\nAnd our beloved have departed,\\nWhile we tarry, broken-hearted,\\nIn the dreary, empty house\\nThey have ended life s brief story,\\nThey have reached their home of glory.\\nOver death victorious.\\nHush that sobbing, weep more lightly,\\nOn we travel, daily, nightly,\\nTo the rest that they have found.\\nAre we not upon the river.\\nSailing fast, to meet forever\\nOn more holy, happy grounds\\nEvery hour that passes o er us\\nSpeaks of comfort yet before us\\nOf our journey s rapid rate\\nAnd like passing vesper bells,\\nThe clock of time its chiming tells.\\nAt eternity s broad gate.\\nAh the way is shining clearer,\\nAs we journey ever nearer\\nTo the everlasting home.\\nFriends who there await the landing,\\nComrades round the throne now standing,\\nWe salute you, and we come.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0343.jp2"}, "344": {"fulltext": "A VISIT OF SYMPATHY.\\n308", "height": "3469", "width": "2575", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0344.jp2"}, "345": {"fulltext": "CHAPTER XIX.\\nSYMPATHY.\\nJ OLD people are of little use to\\nothers. The world is not in\\nwant of icebergs. We were\\nnot born to freeze up our-\\nselves or to freeze those\\naround us. When a ship in\\nthe Atlantic comes near an iceberg the\\nchill in the air tells of it. You can feel\\na cold shiver. And there are people who\\nare just as cold; you get chilled every time\\nyou come near them.\\nThe best hearts are not made of stone.\\nThere is something warm about them. They\\nmelt and run. Love is the world s summer\\nand without it nothing would grow. He\\nis a weak, narrow, selfish, cold-blooded man\\nwho can see a tear and care nothing for it.\\nYou should be sensitive to the wants and\\nsorrows around you. Feeling is your\\ngrandest accomplishment. It is the crown\\nand glory of character. True religion is to\\npity the widow and the fatherless, and with-\\nout this, religion is a sham. If you can t\\ngive away a loaf of bread, well-baked and\\nnot stale, your prayers are dough. Good\\ngiving and good praying are in partnership.\\nSympathy is one of the great secrets of a\\nhappy and successful life. It overcomes evil\\nand strengthens good. It disarms resistance,\\nmelts the hardest heart, and develops the\\ntetter part of human nature. It is one of\\nthe great truths on which Christianity is\\nbased. Love one another contains a\\ngospel sufficient to renovate the world.\\nIt is related of the Apostle John that when\\nvery old so old that he could not walk\\nand could scarcely speak he was carried\\nin the arms of his friends into an assembly\\nof Christian people. He lifted himself up\\nand said, Little children, love one another.\\nAnd again he said, Love one another.\\nWhen asked, Have you nothing else to\\ntell us he replied, I say this again and\\nagain, because, if you do this, nothing more\\nis needed.\\nWe Are All One.\\nMan is dear to man the poorest poor\\nLong for some moments in a weary life,\\nWhen they can know and feel that they have been\\nThemselves the fathers and the dealers-out\\nOf some small blessings have been kind to such\\nAs needed kindness, for the single cause,\\nThat we have all of us one human heart.\\nWii: i iAM Wordsworth.\\nSympathy is founded on love. It is but\\nanother word for disinterestedness and affec-\\ntion. We assume another s state of mind;\\nwe go out of ourselves and inhabit another s\\npersonality. We sympathize with him; we\\nhelp him; we relieve him. There can be\\nno love without sympathy there can be no\\nfriendship without sympathy. Like mercy,\\nsympathy and benevolence are twice blessed,\\nblessing both giver and receiver. While\\nthey bring forth an abundant fruit of happi-\\nness in the heart of the giver, they grow up\\ninto kindness and benevolence in the heart\\nof the receiver.\\nWe often do more good, says Canon\\nFarrar, by our sympathy than by our\\nlabors, and render to the world a more\\nlasting service by absence of jealousy and\\n309", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0345.jp2"}, "346": {"fulltext": "310\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nrecognition of merit than we could ever\\nrender by the straining efforts of personal\\nambition. A man may lose position, influ-\\nence, wealth, and even health, and yet live\\non in comfort, if with resignation; but there\\nis one thing without which life becomes a\\nburden that is human sympathy.\\nIt is true that kind actions are not always\\nreceived with gratitude, but this ought never\\nto turn aside the sympathetic helper. This\\nis one of the difficulties to be overcome in our\\nconflict with life. Even the most degraded\\nis worthy of the mutual help which all men\\nowe to each other. It should be remembered,\\nas Bentham no less truly than profoundly\\nremarked, that the happiness of the cruel\\nman is as much an integral part of the whole\\nhuman happiness as is that of the best and\\nnoblest of men. Then, again, a man cannot\\ndo good or evil to others without doing good\\nor evil to himself\\nProbably there is no influence so powerful\\nas sympathy in awakening the affections of\\nthe human heart. There are few, even of\\nthe most rugged natures, whom it does not\\ninfluence. It constrains much more than\\nforce can do. A kind word, or a kind look,\\nwill act upon those upon whom coercion has\\nbeen tried in vain. While sympathy invites\\nto love and obedience, harshness provokes\\naversion and resistance. The poet is right\\nwho says that power itself hath not one\\nhalf the might of gentleness.\\nWe ve All Our Angel Side.\\nThe huge, rough stones from out the mine,\\nUnsightly and unfair.\\nHave veins of purest metal hid\\nBeneath the surface there.\\nFew rocks so bare but to their hights\\nSome tiny moss-plant clings\\nAnd on the peaks so desolate,\\nThe sea-bird sits and sings.\\nBelieve me, too, that rugged souls,\\nBeneath their rudeness, hide\\nMuch that is beautiful and good\\nWe ve all our angel side.\\nIn all there is an inner depth,\\nA far-off, secret way.\\nWhere, through the windows of the soul,\\nGod sends His smiling ray.\\nIn every human heart there is\\nA faithful, sounding chord\\nThat may be struck, unknown to us,\\nBy some sweet, loving word.\\nThe wayward will in man may try\\nIts softer thoughts to hide\\nSome unexpected tone reveals\\nIt has an angel side.\\nDespised, and lone, and trodden down,\\nDark with the shades of sin.\\nDeciphering not those halo-lights\\nWhich God has lit within\\nGroping about in endless night.\\nPoor, poisoned souls they are,\\nWho guess not what life s meaning is\\nNor dream of heaven afar.\\nO that some gentle hand of love\\nTheir stumbling steps would guide,\\nAnd show them that, amidst it all,\\nLife has its angel side\\nBrutal, and mean, and dark enough,\\nGod knows some natures are\\nBut He, compassionate, comes near,\\nAnd shall we stand afar\\nOur cruse of oil will not grow less\\nIf shared with hearty hand\\nFor words of peace and looks of love\\nFew natures can withstand.\\nI/)ve is the mighty conqueror.\\nLove is the beauteous guide.\\nLove, with her beaming eyes, can see\\nWe ve all our angel side.\\nSympathy, when allowed to take a wider\\nrange, assumes the larger form of public\\nphilanthropy. It influences man in the en-\\ndeavor to elevate his fellow-creatures from a\\nstate of poverty and distress, to improve the\\ncondition of the masses of the people, to\\ndiffuse the results of civilization far and wide\\namong mankind, and to unite in the bonds\\nof peace and brotherhood the parted families\\nof the human race. And it is every man s", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0346.jp2"}, "347": {"fulltext": "SYMPATHY.\\n311\\nduty, whose lot has been favored in com-\\nparison with others, who enjoys advantages\\nof wealth, or knowledge, or social influence,\\nof which others are deprived, to devote at\\nleast a certain portion of his time and money\\nto the promotion of the general well-being.\\nIt is not great money power, or great\\nintellectual power, that is necessary. The\\npower of money is overestimated. Paul\\nand his disciples spread Christianity over\\nhalf the Roman world, with little more\\nmoney than is gained from a fashionable\\nbazaar. The great social doctrines of Chris-\\ntianity are based on the idea of brotherhood.\\nDo unto others as ye would they should\\ndo unto you.\\nBe a Helper.\\nEach is to assist the other the strong the\\nweak, the rich the poor, the learned the igno-\\nrant and, to reverse the order, those who\\nhave least are no less to assist those who\\nhave most. All depends on higher degrees\\nof power, for disciples do not make their\\nteachers, nor the ignorant and helpless those\\nwho are to instruct and assist them.\\nMan can make of life what he will. He\\ncan give as much value to it, for himself and\\nothers, as he has power given him. When\\ncircumstances are not against him, he has\\nentire control over his moral and spiritual\\nnature. He can do much for himself, and\\nall that God gives must pass through man\\nand his own exertions, as if it were his own\\npeculiar work.\\nThough we may look to our understand-\\ning for amusement, it is to the affections\\nonly that we must trust for happiness. This\\nimplies a spirit of self-sacrifice, and our vir-\\ntues, like our children, are endeared to us\\nfor what we suffer for them. The secret of\\nmy mother s influence, says a well-known\\nlady, was accurately expressed by one who\\nwrote her, I have never known any one so\\ntenderly and truly and universally beloved\\nas you are, and I believe it arises from your\\ncapacity of loving.\\nThe men most to be pitied are those who\\nhave no command over themselves, who\\nhave no feeling of duty to others, who\\nwander through life seeking their own pleas-\\nure, or who, even while performing good\\ndeeds, do so from mean motives, from regard\\nto mental satisfaction, or from fear of the\\nreproaches of conscience. Some of those\\nwho are vain of their fine feelings love them-\\nselves dearly, but have little regard for the\\nindividuals about them. They are very polite\\nto extraneous society but follow them home\\nand see how they conduct themselves toward\\ntheir family. An angel abroad and a devil\\nat home, is an old saying.\\nMisplaced Sympathy.\\nFalse sympathy is very common. Sharpe\\nsays that one of the most serious objections\\nto pathetic works of fiction is, that they tend\\nto create a habit of feeling pity or indigna-\\ntion, without actually relieving distress or\\nresisting oppression. Thus Sterne could\\nsympathize with a dead donkey, and leave\\nhis wife to starve.\\nThe man who throws himself into the\\nexistence of another, and exerts his utmost\\nefforts to help him in all ways socially,\\nmorally, religiously exerts a divine influ-\\nence. He is enveloped in the strongest safe-\\nguard. He bids defiance to selfishness. He\\ncomes out of his trial humble yet noble.\\nThe alleviation of pain and misery was a dis-\\ncovery of Christianity, a discovery like that\\nof a new scientific principle. The best and\\nthe noblest men are the most sympathetic.\\nWilberforce was distinguished by his power\\nof sympathy. A friend was asked, What\\nis the secret of Wilberforce s success?", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0347.jp2"}, "348": {"fulltext": "312\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nIn his power of sympathy, was the ready\\nanswer. He was large-hearted, generous,\\nand Hberal. He went straight to the front,\\nand threw himself heart and soul into every\\nproject which had good for its object. He\\ntook the lead in every experiment which\\nseemed to him worth trying. And success\\nwas the result.\\nSympathy is the capacity of feeling for the\\nsufferings, the difficulties, and the discour-\\nagements of others. It was said of Norman\\nMacleod that sympathy was the first and the\\nlast thing in his character. He found in\\nhumanity so much to interest him. The\\nmost commonplace man or woman yielded\\nup some contribution of humanity. When\\nhe came to see me, said a blacksmith, he\\nspoke as if he had been a smith himself, but\\nhe never went away without leaving Christ in\\nmy heart.\\nThere is Need of Men.\\nWhen about to enter on his work in Glas-\\ngow, Norman Macleod said We want\\nliving men not their books or their money\\nonly, but themselves. The poor and needy,\\nthe naked and outcast, the prodigal and\\nbroken-hearted, can see and feel, as they\\nnever did anything else in this world, the love\\nwhich calmly shines in that eye, telling of\\ninward light and peace possessed, and of a\\nplace of rest found and enjoyed by the weary\\nheart. They can understand and appreciate\\nthe utter unselfishness to them a thing\\nhitherto hardly dreamed of which prompted\\na visit from a home of comfort and refine-\\nment to an unknown abode of squalor or\\ndisease, and which expresses itself in those\\nkind words and tender greetings that accom-\\npany their ministrations.\\nThere is a tremenduous lack of sympathy.\\nThis is the main evil of our time. There is\\na widening chasm which divides the various\\nclasses of society. The rich shrink back\\nfrom the poor, the poor shrink back from\\nthe rich. The one class withholds its sym-\\npathy and guidance, the other withholds its\\nrespect.\\nInstead of the old principle that the world\\nmust be ruled by kind and earnest guardian-\\nship, in which the irregularities of fortune are\\nin part made up by the spontaneous charity\\nand affection of those v/ho were better born,\\nthe rule now is, that self-interest, without\\nregard to others, is the polar star of our\\nearthly sphere, and that everything that\\nstands in the way is to be trodden down\\nbeneath our unfeeling hoofs.\\nWhat Might be Done.\\nWhat might be done if men were wise\\nWhat glorious deeds, my suffering brother,\\nWould they unite\\nIn love and right,\\nAnd cease their scorn of one another.\\nThe meanest wretch that ever trod,\\nThe deepest sunk in guilt and sorrow,\\nMight stand erect\\nIn self-respect,\\nAnd share the teeming world to-morrow.\\nWhat might be done This might be done,\\nAnd more than this, my suffering brother\\nMore than the tongue\\nE er said or sung,\\nIf men were wise and loved each other.\\nChari^es Mackay.\\nSympathy seems to be dying out between\\nemployers and employed. In the great\\nmanufacturing towns the masters and work-\\nmen live apart from each other. They do\\nnot know each other. They have no sym-\\npathy with each other. If the men want\\nhigher wages, there is a strike if the mas-\\nters want lower wages, there is a lock-out.\\nThere is combination on both sides. Then a\\nconference is proposed, sometimes with good\\nresults, sometimes with bad. Agitation goes", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0348.jp2"}, "349": {"fulltext": "FLOWERS FOR THE SICK.\\n313", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0349.jp2"}, "350": {"fulltext": "314\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\non, and hard things are said. Sometimes\\ntrains are stopped and railroad property is\\nburned, the militia are called out, and there\\nis a pause but what an injury has been\\ndone to head and heart on both sides\\nAnd what shall we say of domestic ser-\\nvice The want of sympathy has died out,\\nat least in large cities. There is a constant\\nchange going on one set of servants suc-\\nceeds another. And yet the lives of families\\ncannot be carried on upon the principles of\\nmere barter so much money, so much ser-\\nvice. Servants, when they enter our homes,\\nshould be regarded, in one sense, as mem-\\nbers of the family.\\nIt is now far otherwise the servant, though\\nher help is essential to our daily comfort, is\\nregarded as but a hired person, doing her\\nappointed work for so many greenbacks.\\nShe lives in the kitchen and sleeps in the\\nattic. With the region between she has no\\nconcern, excepting as regards the work to be\\ndone there. No sympathy exists between the\\nemployer and the employed, any more than if\\nthey inhabited different countries, and spoke\\nin different languages.\\nGoverned only by Self-interest.\\nThe want of sympathy pervades society.\\nWe do not know each other, or do not care\\nfor each other, as we ought to do. Selfish-\\nness strikes its roots very deep. In pursuit\\nof pleasure or wealth we become hard and\\nindifferent. Each person is eager to run his\\nor her race, without regard to the feelings of\\nothers. We do not think of helping onward\\nthose who have heavier burdens to bear than\\nourselves. It makes men regardless of fraud\\nand crime. Not recognizing the brotherhood\\nof the race, they selfishly and keenly pursue\\ntheir own interest over the bodies and souls,\\nand over the lives and properties of others.\\nThe idle and selfish man cares little for\\nthe rest of the world. He does nothing to\\nhelp the forlorn or the destitute. What\\nare they to me? he says; let them look\\nafter themselves. Why should I help them?\\nThey have done nothing for me They are\\nsuffering There always will be suffering in\\nthe world. What can t be cured must be\\nendured. It will be all the same a hundred\\nyears hence\\nDon t care can scarcely be roused by a\\nvoice from the dead. He is so much en-\\ngrossed by his own pleasures, his own\\nbusiness, or his own idleness, that he will\\ngive no heed to the pressing claims of others.\\nThe discussions about poverty, ignorance, or\\nsuffering, annoy him. Let them work,\\nhe says; why should I keep them? Let\\nthem help themselves. The sloth is an\\nenergetic animal compared with Don t\\ncare.\\nCannot Escape the Consequences.\\nBut Don t care is not let off so easily\\nas he imagines. The man who does not\\ncare for others, who does not sympathize\\nwith and help others, is very often pursued\\nwith a just retribution. He doesn t care for\\nthe foul pestilential air breathed by the\\ninhabitants of houses a few streets off; but\\nthe fever which has been bred there floats\\ninto his house, and snatches away those who\\nare dearest to him. He doesn t care for the\\ncriminahty, ignorance, and poverty massed\\nthere but the burglar and the thief find him\\nout in his seclusion. He doesen t care for\\npauperism; but he has to pay for poor-\\nhouses. He doesn t care for politics but\\ntricksters and plunderers get into power;\\nand, after all, he finds that Don t care is\\nnot such a cheap policy after all.\\nDon t care was the man who was to\\nblame for the well-known catastrophe: For\\nwant of a nail the shoe was lost, for want of", "height": "3496", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0350.jp2"}, "351": {"fulltext": "SYMPATHY.\\n315\\na shoe the horse was lost, and for want of a\\nhorse the man was lost. Galho was a\\nDon t care, of whom we are told that he\\ncared for none of these things. Don t\\ncares like Gallio generally come to a bad\\nend.\\nThe political economists say that the re-\\nlationship of employers and employed is\\nsimply a money bargain so much service,\\nso much wage. In the calculations of the\\neconomists this is doubtless the contract\\nwhich they are required to recognize. But\\nthe moralist, the philosopher, the statesman,\\nthe man, should acknowledge, in the posi-\\ntions of employers and employed, a social tie,\\nimposing upon the parties certain duties and\\naffections growing out of their common sym-\\npathies as human beings, and the positions\\nthey respectively fill. There should be kind-\\nness on both sides, with the respect due to\\nimmortal beings.\\nA Man s a Man for a That.\\nWithout this sort of respect, which can\\nonly exist where the sense of the real dignity\\nof man as a living soul has penetrated, not\\nmerely in the convictions but in the feelings,\\nany amelioration of the condition of society\\nis hopeless.\\nYes said Sydney Smith, he is of the\\nutilitarian school The man is so hard that\\nyou might drive a broad-wheeled wagon over\\nhim, and it would produce no impression.\\nIf you were to bore holes in him with a\\ngimlet, I am convinced sawdust would come\\nout of him. That school treats mankind as\\nif they were machines; the feelings or the\\nheart never enter into their consideration.\\nWhere has our faithfulness, loyalty and\\ndisinterestedness gone? Fidelity seems to\\nbe a lost art. It is now a matter of money.\\nMutual respect has departed. He that\\nrespects not is not respected, says Herbert.\\nWe have to go back to the old times for our\\nguiding maxims. The workman respects\\nnot the master, and the master respects not\\nthe servant. For many years the workman\\nin this country received higher wages than\\nprevailed over the rest of Europe. That\\ntime has come to a close. Railways and\\nsteamboats tend to make the wages of all\\ncountries nearly equal. The time has come\\nwhen all classes will have to begin a new\\ncourse of life.\\nA Matter of the Heart.\\nIt is not so much literary culture that is\\nwanted as habits of reflection, thoughtfulness,\\nand right conduct. Wealth cannot purchase\\npleasures of the highest sort. It is the\\nheart, taste, and judgment which determine\\nthe happiness of man, and restore him to th\\nhighest form of being. Burns says\\nIt s not in titles nor in rank\\nIt s not in wealth like London Bank,\\nTo purchase peace and rest\\nIt s not in making much still more\\nIt s not in books it s not in lore,\\nTo make us truly blest\\nIf happiness have not her seat\\nAnd centre in the breast,\\nWe may be wise, or rich, or great,.\\nBut never can be blest.\\nIt is not for ourselves alone that we work\\nand strive. It is for others as well as for\\nourselves. There are moral laws, family-\\nties, domestic affections, home government\\nand guidance, which stand on a higher level\\nand are based on nobler considerations than\\nselfish pleasures or money payment. We\\nmust beware how we allow our views to\\ncentre in ourselves.\\nNo one, said Epictetus, who is a lover\\nof riches, or a lover of pleasure, or a lover of\\nglory, can at the same time be a lover of\\nmen, To be a lover of men, said St.\\nAnthony, is, in fact, to live. Thus love is\\nk", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0351.jp2"}, "352": {"fulltext": "316\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nthe universal principle of good. It is glori-\\nfied in human intelligence. It is the only\\nremedy for the woes of the human race. It\\nis sweet in action in learning, in philosophy,\\nin manners, in legislation, in government.\\nThoughtfulness, kindness, and considera-\\ntion for others will always repay themselves.\\nThey will produce a grateful return on the\\npart of the objects, and services will be per-\\nformed with a willingness and alacrity which\\nmere money could never secure. Sympathy\\nis the true warmth and light of the home\\nwhich binds together mistresses and servants,\\nas well as husband and wife, father, mother,\\nand children and the home cannot be truly\\nhappy where it is not present knitting\\ntogether the whole household in one bond of\\ndomestic affection and concord.\\nW^ho is the Successful Man?\\nThe late Arthur Helps, in one of his wise\\nessays, says, You observe a man becoming\\nday by day richer, or advancing in station,\\nor increasing in professional reputation, and\\nyou set him down as a successful man in life.\\nBut if his home is an ill-regulated one, where\\nno links of affection extend throughout the\\nfamily, whose former domestics (and he has\\nhad more of them than he can well remem-\\nber) look back upon their sojourn with him\\nas one unblessed by kind words or deeds, I\\ncontend that that man has not been suc-\\ncessful.\\nWhatever good fortune he may have in\\nthe world, it is to be remembered that he\\nhas always left one important fortress un-\\ntaken behind him. That man or woman s\\nlife does not surely read well when benevo-\\nlence has found no central home. It may\\nhave sent forth rays in various directions,\\nbut there should have been a warm focus of\\nlove that home nest which is formed round\\na good man s heart.\\nNo man was more sympathetic than Charles\\nLamb. There are few who have not heard\\nof the one awful event in his life. When\\nonly twenty-one his sister Mary, in a fit of\\nfrenzy, stabbed her mother to the heart\\nwith a carving-knife. Her brother, from\\nthat moment, resolved to sacrifice his life to\\nhis poor, dear, dearest sister, and volun-\\ntarily became her companion. He gave up\\nall thoughts of love and marriage. Under\\nthe strong influence of duty, he renounced\\nthe only attachment he had ever formed.\\nWith an income of scarcely five hundred\\ndollars a year, he trod the journey of life\\nalone, fortified by his attachment for his\\nsister. Neither pleasure nor toil ever di-\\nverted him from his purpose.\\nWhen released from the asylum, she de-\\nvoted part of her time to the composition of\\nthe Tales from Shakespeare, and other\\nworks. Hazlitt speaks of her as one of the\\nmost sensible women he ever knew, though\\nshe had through life recurring fits of insanity,\\nand even when well was constantly on the\\nbrink of madness.\\nA Brother s Tender Care.\\nWhen she felt a fit of insanity coming on,\\nCharles would take her under his arm to\\nthe Hoxton Asylum. It was affecting to\\nsee the young brother and his elder sister\\nwalking together and weeping together on\\nthis painful errand. He carried the straight-\\njacket in his hand, and delivered her up to\\nthe care of the asylum authorities.\\nWhen she had recovered her reason, she\\nwent home again to her brother, who joy-\\nfully received her treating her with the\\nutmost tenderness. God loves her, he\\nsays may we two never love each other\\nless. Their affection continued for forty\\nyears, without a cloud, except such as arose\\nfrom the fluctuations of her health. Lamb", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0352.jp2"}, "353": {"fulltext": "SYMPATHY.\\n317\\ndid his duty nobly and manfully, and he\\nreaped a fitting reward.\\nSympathy for others often exhibits itself\\nin the desire to save the lives of those Avho\\nare in peril. We have already related many\\ninstances of this kind but another remains\\nto be mentioned. One day Lady Watson\\nwas walking along the sea-shore collecting\\nshells for her museum. In looking up, she\\nsaw a solitary man on a ledge of rock sur-\\nrounded by water. She knew not who he\\nwas but he was in risk of losing his life,\\nand she determined to save him. The tide\\nwas rising rapidly, and the waves were\\nfuriously rushing in upon the land. It ap-\\npeared almost impossible to rescue the forlorn\\nman from his perilous position.\\nIn the Nick of Time.\\nNevertheless, she appealed to the boatmen,\\nand offered a high reward to those who\\nwould go to sea and save the man. At\\nfirst they hesitated, but at length a boat\\nstarted, and reached the rock just as the\\nman s strength was exhausted. They got\\nhim on board, and bore him safely to land.\\nWhat was the lady s astonishment to find in\\nthe rescued man her own husband, Sir Wil-\\nliam Watson\\nEven a word spoken in good season is\\nremembered. The famous Dr. Sydenham\\nremarked that everybody, some time or\\nother, would be the better or the worse for\\nhaving but spoken to a good or bad man.\\nThe curate of Olney, the friend of Cowper,\\nwas one of those persons to whom few people\\ncould speak without being the better for it.\\nHe said of himself, he could live no longer\\nthan he could love.\\nA woman s memory saved me from much\\ntemptation, wrote one who had lived a wild\\nlife in a wild land. Not one of my own\\npeople ever knew her she was dead before\\nI left home. But there were some things\\nthat might otherwise have been too much for\\nme, that I was quite safe from, just because\\nI had loved her; I never felt that I had in\\nany way lost her love, and I could not go\\nwith it in my heart to places where I could\\nnever have taken her. When I felt a little\\nlonely because I could not join those who\\nhad been my comrades, I just braced up my\\nheart with the thought, for her sake.\\nStory by a Noted Preacher.\\nHere is a story which shows the utter\\nwant of sympathy. It was told in a sermon\\nby Rev. Robert Collyer, pastor of the Unity\\nChurch of Chicago, and later of New York.\\nMr. Collyer was born at Keighley, in York-\\nshire, but spent most of his early life at\\nIlkley, now a fashionable watering-place-\\nHe was apprenticed to Jackie Birch, a black-\\nsmith. He married while a workman at the\\nanvil. He became a lay preacher among\\nthe Methodists. Afterward he came tO\\nAmerica, and became a preacher here. His\\nsermons are full of Hfe, poetry, and eloquence,,\\nfounded upon a large experience of human\\ncharacter.\\nI remember, he says, in one of our\\nlove feasts in the Methodist Church in Eng-\\nland, thirty years ago and more, that a maa\\ngot up and told us how he had lost his wife\\nby the fever, and then, one by one, all his\\nchildren, and that he had felt as calm and\\nserene through it as if nothing had happened;,\\nnot suffering in the least, not feeling a pang\\nof pain; fended and shielded, as he believed,\\nby the Divine grace, and up to that moment\\nwhen he was talking to us, without a grief in\\nhis heart.\\nAs soon as he had done, the wise and\\nmanful old preacher who was leading the meet-\\ning got up and said, Now, brother, go home,\\nand into your closet, and down on your", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0353.jp2"}, "354": {"fulltext": "31S\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nknees, and never get up again, if you can\\nhelp it, until you are a new man. What you\\nhave told us is not a sign of grace it is a\\nsign of the hardest heart I ever encountered\\nin a Christian man. Instead of you being a\\nsaint, you are hardly good enough to be a\\ndecent sinner. Religion never takes the\\nhumanity out of a man, it makes him more\\nhuman; and if you were human at all, such\\ntroubles as you have had ought to have\\nbroken your heart. I know it would mine,\\nand I pretend to be no more of a saint than\\nother people so I warn you never tell such\\na story at a love feast again.\\nThe Little Street Boy.\\nLet us take from Mr. Collyer another\\ntouching story, showing the power of sym-\\npathy in another and truer direction. Away\\noff, I believe in Edinburgh, two gentlemen\\nwere standing at the door of a hotel one\\nvery cold day, when a little boy, with a poor\\nthin blue face, his feet bare and red with the\\ncold, and with nothing to cover him but a\\nbundle of rags, came and said, Please, sir,\\nbuy some matches. No, I don t want any,\\nsaid the gentleman. But they re only a\\npenny a box, the little fellow pleaded. Yes\\nbut you see I don t want a box. Then I ll\\ngie ye two boxes for a penny, the boy said\\nat last, And so, to get rid of him, the\\ngentleman, who tells the story in an English\\npaper, says, I bought a box, but then I\\nfound I had no change, so I said, I ll buy\\na box to-morrow. Oh, do buy them the\\nnicht, the boy pleaded again I ll rin and\\nget ye the change for I m very hungry.\\nSo I gave him the shilling, and he started\\naway. I waited for him, but no boy came.\\nThen I thought I had lost my shilling but\\nstill there was that in the boy s face I trusted,\\nand I did not hke to think badly of him.\\nWell, late in the evening a servant came\\nand said a little boy wanted to see me.\\nWhen he was brought in, I found it was a\\nsmaller brother of the boy who got my\\nshilling, but, if possible, still more ragged,\\nand poor, and thin. He stood a moment\\ndiving into his rags, as if he were seeking\\nsomething, and then said, Are you the\\ngentleman that bought the matches frae\\nSandie Yes Weel, then, here s four-\\npence oot o yer shillin Sandie canna come.\\nHe s no weel. A cart ran ower him, and\\nknocked him doon and he lost his bonnet,\\nand his matches, and your elevenpence and\\nboth his legs are broken, and he s no weel\\nat a and the doctor says he ll dee. And\\nthat s a he can gie ye thenoo, putting four-\\npence down on the table and then the poor\\nchild broke down into great sobs. So I fed\\nthe little man, the gentleman goes on to say,\\nand then I went with him to see Sandie.\\nWho ll Care for Reuby?\\nI found that the two little things lived\\nwith a wretched drunken step-mother their\\nown father and mother were both dead. I\\nfound poor Sandie lying on a bundle of\\nshavings he knew me as soon as I came in,\\nand said, I got the change, sir, and was\\ncoming back and then the horse knocked\\nme down, and both my legs are broken.\\nAnd Reuby, little Reuby I am sure I am\\ndeein and who will take care o ye, Reuby,\\nwhen I am gane What will ye do, Reuby\\nThen I took the poor little sufferer s\\nhand, and told him I would always take care\\nof Reuby. He understood me, and had just\\nstrength to look at me as if he would thank\\nme then the light went out of his blue eyes\\nand in a moment\\nHe lay within the light of God,\\nIvike a babe upon the breast\\nWhere the wicked cease from troubling,\\nAnd the weary are at rest.", "height": "3496", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0354.jp2"}, "355": {"fulltext": "SYMPATHY.\\n319\\nSympathy glorifies humanity. Its syno-\\nnym is love. It goes forth to meet the wants\\nand necessities of the sorrow-stricken and\\noppressed. Wherever there is cruelty, or\\nignorance, or misery, sympathy stretches\\nforth its hand to console and alleviate. The\\nsight of grief, the sound of a groan, takes\\nhold of the sympathetic mind, and will not\\nlet it go.\\nOn Another s Sorrow.\\nCan I see another s woe,\\nAnd not be in sorrow too\\nCan I see another s grief,\\nAnd not seek for kind relief?\\nCan I see a falling tear.\\nAnd not feel my sorrow s share?\\nCan a father see his child\\nWeep, nor be with sorrow filled?\\nCan a mother sit and hear\\nAn infant groan, an infant fear?\\nNo, no never can it be\\nNever, never can it be\\nAnd can He who smiles on all\\nHear the wren with sorrows small,\\nHear the small bird s grief and care,\\nHear the woes that infants bear\\nAnd not sit beside the nest,\\nPouring pity in their breast\\nAnd not sit the cradle near,\\nWeeping tear on infant s tear?\\nAnd not sit, both night and day,\\nWiping all our tears away\\nOh no never can it be\\nNever, never can it be\\nHe doth give his joy to all\\nHe becomes an infant small\\nHe becomes a man of woe\\nHe doth feel the sorrow too.\\nThink not thou canst sigh a sigh,\\nAnd thy Maker is not by.\\nOh, he gives to us his joy.\\nThat our griefs he may destroy\\nTill our grief is fled and gone,\\nHe doth sit by us and moan.\\nWitLIAM BlakB.\\nOne of the finest traits of President Lincoln\\nwas his tenderness of heart, and numerous\\ninstances are on record which illustrate his\\ngenerous sympathy. A poor woman from\\nPhiladelphia had been waiting, v/ith a baby\\nin her arms, for three days to see the Presi-\\ndent. Her husband had deserted, and was\\nsentenced to be shot. Late in the afternoon\\nof the third day Mr. Lincoln heard the baby\\ncry. He rang the bell. Daniel, said he,\\nis there a woman with a baby in the ante-\\nroom Daniel said there was, and if he\\nwould allow him to say it, he thought it was\\na case he ought to see, for it was a matter of\\nhfe and death. Said he, Send her at once.\\nThe President pardoned her husband. As\\nshe came out from his presence her eyes\\nwere lifted and her lips moving in prayer,\\nthe tears streaming down her cheeks. Said\\nDaniel, I went up to her, and pulling her\\nshawl said, Madam, it was the baby that\\ndid it!\\nCare for this Poor Boy.\\nOn another occasion among the persons\\nin waiting was a small, pale, delicate-looking\\nboy about thirteen years old. The President\\nsaw him, and said, Come here, my boy,\\nand tell me what you want. With bowed\\nhead and timid accents, he said Mr. Presi-\\ndent, I have been a drummer-boy in a\\nregiment for two years, and my colonel got\\nangry with me and turned me off; I was\\ntaken sick, and have been a long time in\\nhospital. This is the first time I have been\\nout, and I came to see if you cannot do\\nsomething for me.\\nThe President looked at him tenderly, and\\nasked him where he lived. I have no\\nhome, answered the boy. Where is your\\nfather? He died in the army, was the\\nreply. Where is your mother? My\\nmother is dead also. I have no mother, no\\nfather, no brothers, no sisters, and, bursting\\ninto tears, no friends nobody cares for me.\\nMr. Lincoln s eyes were filled with tears.\\nk", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0355.jp2"}, "356": {"fulltext": "320\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nand he said to him, Can t you sell news-\\npapers No, said the boy I am too\\nweak, and the surgeon of the hospital told me\\nI must leave, and I have no money and no\\nplace to go to. The scene was wonderfully\\naffecting. The President drew forth a card\\nand gave special directions to care for this\\npoor boy.\\nSays Dr. Guthrie, To weep with them\\nthat weep belongs alone to man. The\\nhorse will enjoy his feed of corn while his\\nyoke-fellow lies a-dying in the neighboring\\nstall, and never turn an eye of pity to the\\nsufferer. They have strong passions, but no\\nsympathy.\\nSympathy is not content to merely look\\non and then do nothing. Queen Isabella\\nwas in sympathy with Columbus in his de-\\nsires to seek a new world in the west. She\\npledged her jewels in order to raise the\\nnecessary means to enable him to prosecute\\nhis purpose.\\nKindred Sympathy.\\nA man s nearest kin are oftentimes far other than\\nhis dearest,\\nYet in the season of affliction those will haste to help\\nhim.\\nFor, note thou this, the providence of God hath\\nbound up families together.\\nTo mutual aid and patient trial yea, those ties are\\nstrong.\\nFriends are ever dearer in thy wealth, but relations\\nto be trusted in thy need,\\nFor these are God s appointed way, and those the\\nchoice of man\\nThere is lower warmth in kin, but smaller truth in\\nfriends.\\nThe latter show more surface, and the first have more\\ndepth.\\nRelations rally to the rescue, even in estrangement\\nand neglect,\\nWhere friends will have fled at thy defeat, even after\\npromises and kindness.\\nFor friends come and go the whim that bound, may\\nloose them\\nBut none can dissever a relationship, and fate hath\\ntied the knot.\\nM. F. TuppER.\\nThe Manly Tear.\\nNo radiant pearl, which crested fortune wears\\nNo gem, that twinkling hangs from beauty s ears\\nNot the bright stars, which night s blue arch adorn\\nNor rising sun, that gilds the vernal morn\\nShine with such lustre as the tear that flows\\nDown virtue s manly cheek for others woes.\\nE. Darwin.\\nWhy is it that so many people keep all\\ntheir pleasant thoughts and kind words\\nabout a man bottled and sealed until he is\\ndead, when they come and break the bottle\\nover his coffin, and bathe his shroud in fra-\\ngrance? Many a man goes through life\\nwith scarcely one bright, cheerful, encour-\\naging, hopeful word. He toils hard and in\\nlowly obscurity. He gives out his life freely\\nand unstintedly for others.\\nI remember such a man. He was not\\nbrilliant; he was not great; but he was\\nfaithful. He had many things to dis-\\ncourage him. Troubles thickened about\\nhis life. He was misrepresented and mis-\\nunderstood. Everybody believed that he\\nwas a good man, but no one ever said a\\nkindly word or pleasant thing to him. He\\nnever heard a compliment, scarcely ever a\\ngood wish. No one ever took any pains\\nto encourage him, to strengthen his feeble\\nknees, to lighten his burdens, or to lift up\\nhis heart by a gentle deed of love, or by\\na cheerful word. He was neglected. Un-\\nkind things were often said of him.\\nI stood at his coffin, and then there were\\nmany tongues to speak his praise. There\\nwas not a breath of aspersion in the air.\\nMen spoke of self-denial of his work\\namong the poor, of his quietness, modesty,\\nhis humility, his pureness of heart, his faith\\nand prayer.\\nBut his ears were closed then, and could\\nnot hear a word that was spoken. The\\nlove blossomed out too late.", "height": "3479", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0356.jp2"}, "357": {"fulltext": "CHAPTER XX.\\nSELF=CONTROL.\\nE have an old proverb that\\nsays: He is a fool who\\ncannot be angry, but he\\nis a wise man who will\\nnot. The fools, then,\\nare scarce, for you sel-\\ndom meet a person who\\ncannot get angry upon occasion, and you\\nmeet many who can get angry without any\\noccasion. Or they are so fond of showing\\nill temper that if there is no real occasion\\nthey look one up without any delay. Weak\\npersons they are, of little account, fit only to\\nbluster and make a noise, to stir up dust as\\na blast of wind does, and you shut your eyes,\\nhold your breath, and if you see another\\nblast coming you hurry round the corner.\\nYes, the most disagreeable people are\\nthose who cannot or will not control them-\\nselves. A horse that has no self-control is\\nthe very one you don t want. Gentle, the\\nowner says, no shying, no jumping, no\\nrearing, no kicking you can face a loco-\\nmotive or street roller this animal is safe\\nand when you buy it that very gentleness\\nis a large part of what you pay for. All\\nthat is done in breaking a colt is to teach it\\nto break itself You could not control it if\\nit had no self-control. It knows what the\\nbit means, what the whoa means it has\\nlearned to obey orders and govern itself.\\nThere are people who never lose an op-\\nportunit)^ of pulling at the hitch-line. They\\nchafe and fret. They are happy only when\\ntrying to get away. They are never calm\\n21\\nand self-possessed. You never know when\\nthey will boil over, or rather you do know\\nthey are at the boiling over point whenever\\nthey are not asleep. There is only one time\\nwhen they can be trusted, and that is when\\nthey are not awake.\\nYou may not be aware how much a lack\\nof self-control has to do with the ill-success\\nand the failures which so many persons de-\\nplore in all social, domestic and business\\nlife. Here is one main source of disappoint-\\nment. The fault is not always outside of\\nyou. You cannot control others until you:\\ncan control yourself The man who is frus-\\ntrated or in a passion is fit for nothing except\\nto get quiet and cool off. No one will pay\\nany serious attention to a man who cannot\\ngovern himself He unmans himself and\\nhas no more influence over you than a crazy\\nperson would have; in fact, he is crazy to\\nthe extent that his reason and self-possession\\nare gone.\\nNo True Manhood Without It.\\nSelf-control is only courage under another\\nform. It may almost be regarded as the\\nprimary essence of character. It is in virtue-\\nof this quality that Shakespeare defines man^\\nas a being looking before and after. It:\\nforms the chief distinction between man and\\nthe mere animal; and, indeed, there can be-\\nno true manhood without it.\\nSelf-control is at the root of all the virtues..\\nLet a man give the reins to his impulses and\\npassions, and from that moment he yields up\\n321", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0357.jp2"}, "358": {"fulltext": "SELF-CONTROL.\\n^22", "height": "3496", "width": "2499", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0358.jp2"}, "359": {"fulltext": "THE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\n323\\nhis moral freedom. He is carried along the\\ncurrent of life, and becomes the slave of his\\nstrongest desire for the time being.\\nTo be morally free to be more than an\\nanimal man must be able to resist instinc-\\ntive impulse, and this can only be done by\\nthe exercise of self-control. Thus it is this\\npower which constitutes the real distinction\\nbetween a physical and a moral life, and that\\nforms the primary basis of individual char-\\nacter.\\nThe Greatest Man.\\nIn the Bible praise is given, not to the\\nStrong man who taketh a city, but to the\\nstronger man who ruleth his own spirit.\\nThis stronger man is he who, by disci-\\npline, exercises a constant control over his\\nthoughts, his speech, and his acts. Nine-\\ntenths of the vicious desires that degrade\\nsociety, and which, when indulged, swell\\ninto the crimes that disgrace it, would\\nshrink into insignificance before the advance\\nof valiant self-discipline, self-respect, and self-\\ncontrol. By the watchful exercise of these\\nvirtues, purity of heart and mind become\\nhabitual, and the character is built up in\\nchastity, virtue, and temperance.\\nThe best support of character will always\\nbe found in habit, which, according as the\\nwill is directed rightly or wrongly, as the\\ncase may be, will prove either a benignant\\nruler or a cruel despot. We may be its\\nwilling subject on the one hand, or its servile\\nslave on the other. It may help us on the\\nroad to good, or it may hurry us on the\\nroad to ruin.\\nHabit is formed by careful training. And\\nit is astonishing how much can be accom-\\nplished by systematic discipline and drill.\\nSee how, for instance, out of the most un-\\npromising materials such as roughs picked\\nup in the streets, or raw unkempt country\\nlads taken from the plough steady disci-\\npline and drill will bring out the unsus-\\npected qualities of courage, endurance, and\\nself-sacrifice; and how, in the field of battle,\\nor even on the more trying occasions of\\nperils by sea, such men, carefully disciplined,\\nwill exhibit the unmistakable characteristics\\nof true bravery and heroism!\\nNor is moral discipline and drill less in-\\nfluential in the formation of character. With-\\nout it, there will be no proper system and\\norder in the regulation of the life. Upon it\\ndepends the cultivation of the sense of self-\\nrespect, the education of the habit of obedi-\\nence, the development of the idea of duty.\\nThe most self-reliant, self-governing man\\nis always under discipline; and the more\\nperfect the discipline, the higher will be his\\nmoral condition. He has to drill his desires,\\nand keep them in subjection to the higher\\npowers of his nature. They must obey the\\nword of command of the internal monitor,\\nthe conscience otherwise they will be but\\nthe mere slaves of their inclinations, the\\nsport of feeling and impulse.\\nValue of Self-Restraint.\\nIn the supremacy of self-control, says\\nHerbert Spencer, consists one of the per-\\nfections of the ideal man. Not to be impul-\\nsive not to be spurred hither and thither by\\neach desire that in turn comes uppermost\\nbut to be self-restrained, self-balanced, gov-\\nerned by the joint decision of the feelings in\\ncouncil assembled, before whom every action\\nshall have been fully debated and calmly\\ndetermined that it is which education, moral\\neducation at least, strives to produce.\\nThe first seminary of moral discipline, and\\nthe best, as we have already shown, is the\\nhome next comes the school, and after that\\nthe world, the great school of practical life.\\nEach is preparatory to the other, and what", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0359.jp2"}, "360": {"fulltext": "324\\nSELF-CONTROL.\\nthe man or woman becomes, depends for the\\nmost part upon what has gone before. If\\nthey have enjoyed the advantage of neither\\nthe home nor the school, but have been\\nallowed to grow up untrained, untaught, and\\nundisciplined, then woe to themselves woe\\nto the society of which they form a part\\nThe best-regulated home is always that in\\nwhich the discipline is the most perfect, and\\nyet where it is the least felt. Moral disci-\\npline acts with the force of a law of nature.\\nThose subject to it yield themselves to it\\nunconsciously; and though it shapes and\\nforms the whole character, until the life\\nbecomes crystallized in habit, the influence\\nthus exercised is for the most part unseen\\nand almost unfelt.\\nBest Remedy for Vexations.\\nThus the strongest and most explosive\\nnatures can be brought into subjection. The\\nman who said he always stopped to count a\\nhundred when provoked before making a\\nreply would have done better had he been\\nincapable of being provoked. Or, if one\\ncannot always show such a heavenly dispo-\\nsition, if there must be irritation when there\\nis good reason for it, the calm demeanor will\\nalways be found to remedy the trouble better\\nthan rage.\\nAlthough the moral character depends in\\na great degree on temperament and on\\nphysical health, as well as on domestic and\\nearly training and the example of compan-\\nions, it is also in the power of each individual\\nto regulate, to restrain, and to discipline it\\nby watchful and persevering self-control.\\nA competent teacher has said of the propen-\\nsities and habits, that they are as teachable\\nas Latin and Greek, while they are much\\nmore essential to happiness.\\nDr. Johnson, though himself constitution-\\nally prone to melancholy, and afflicted by it\\nas few have been from his earliest years, said\\nthat a man s being in a good or bad humor\\nvery much depends upon his will. We\\nmay train ourselves in a habit of patience\\nand contentment on the one hand, or of\\ngrumbling and discontent on the other.\\nWe may accustom ourselves to exaggerate\\nsmall evils, and to underestimate great bless-\\nings. We may even become the victim of\\npetty miseries by giving way to them.\\nThe Cheerful Disposition,\\nThus, we may educate ourselves in a\\nhappy disposition, as well as in a morbid one.\\nIndeed, the habit of viewing things cheer-\\nfully, and of thinking about hfe hopefully,\\nmay be made to grow up in us like any\\nother habit.\\nThe religious man s life is pervaded by\\nrigid self-discipline and self-restraint. He\\nis to be sober and vigilant, to eschew evil\\nand do good, to walk in the Spirit, to be\\nobedient unto death, to withstand in the evil\\nday, and, having done all, to stand to\\nwrestle against spiritual wickedness, and\\nagainst the rulers of the darkness of this\\nworld to be rooted and built up in faith,\\nand not to be weary in well-doing for in\\ndue season he shall reap, if he faint not.\\nThe man of business, also, must needs be\\nsubject to strict rule and system. Business\\nsuccess depends in no small degree upon\\nthat regulation of temper and careful self-\\ndiscipline, which give a wise man not only a\\ncommand over himself, but over others.\\nForbearance and self-control smooth the\\nroad of life, and open many ways which\\nwould otherwise remain closed. And so\\ndoes self-respect for as men respect them-\\nselves, so will they usually respect the per-\\nsonality of others. And this, it must be\\nremembered, is a prime factor in gaining\\nthe best results in everyday life.", "height": "3480", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0360.jp2"}, "361": {"fulltext": "THE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\n325\\nAn Even Temper.\\nThere s not a cheaper thing on earth,\\nNor yet one half so dear\\nTis worth more than distinguished birth,\\nOr thousands gained a year.\\nIt maketh poverty content,\\nTo sorrow whispers peace\\nIt is a gift from heaven sent.\\nFor mortals to increase.\\nA charm to banish grief away,\\nTo free the brow from care\\nTurns tears to smiles, makes dulness gay.\\nSpreads gladness everywhere.\\nAnd yet tis cheap as summer s dew\\nThat gems the lily s breast\\nA talisman for love as true\\nAs ever man possessed.\\nAs smiles the rainbow through the cloud\\nWhen threat ning storm begins.\\nAs music mid the tempest loud\\nThat still its sweet way wins,\\nAs springs an arch across the tide\\nWhen waves conflicting foam,\\nSo comes the seraph to our side.\\nThe angel to our home.\\nWhat may this wondering spirit be.\\nWith power unheard before\\nThis charm, this bright divinity\\nGood nature nothing more.\\nGood temper tis the choicest gift\\nThat woman homeward brings,\\nAnd can the poorest peasant lift\\nTo bliss unknown to kings.\\nCharles Swain.\\nA Strong temper is not necessarily a bad\\ntemper. But the stronger the temper, the\\ngreater is the need of self-discipline and self-\\ncontrol. It is not men s faults that ruin\\nthem so much as the manner in which they\\nconduct themselves after the faults have been\\ncommitted. The wise will profit by the suf-\\nfering they cause, and eschew them for the\\nfuture but there are those on whom expe-\\nrience exerts no ripening influence, and who\\nonly grow narrower and bitterer, and more\\nvicious with time.\\nWhat is called strong temper in a young\\nman, often indicates a large amount of unripe\\nenergy, which will expend itself in useful\\nwork if the road be fairly opened to it. It is\\nsaid of Stephen Girard that when he heard\\nof a clerk with a strong temper, he would\\nreadily take him into his employment, and\\nset him to work in a room by himself;\\nGirard being of opinion that such persons\\nwere the best workers, and that their energy\\nwould expend itself in work if removed from\\nthe temptation to quarrel.\\nGirard was as shrewd in managing men as\\nhe was in making money in fact, his ability\\nto control men was one great secret of his\\nfortune. In the College that stands as his\\nmonument in Philadelphia, the pupils are put\\nunder military drill and strict discipline with\\na view to teaching them perfect self-control.\\nFoam and Fury.\\nStrong temper may only mean a strong\\nand excitable will. Uncontrolled, it displays\\nitself in fitful outbreaks of passion but con-\\ntrolled and held in subjection like steam\\npent-up within the organized mechanism of\\na steam engine, the use of which is regulated\\nand controlled by sHde-valves and governors\\nand levers it may become a source of ener-\\ngetic power and usefulness. Hence some of\\nthe greatest characters in history have been\\nmen of strong temper, but of equally strong\\ndetermination to hold their motive-power\\nunder strict regulation and control.\\nCromwell is described as having been of a\\nwayward and violent temper in his youth\\ncross, untractable, and masterless with a\\nvast quantity of youthful energy, which ex-\\nploded in a variety of youthful mischiefs.\\nHe even obtained the reputation of a rowdy\\nin his native town, and seemed to be rapidly\\ngoing to the bad, when religion, in one of its\\nmost rigid forms, laid hold upon his strong\\nnature, and subjected it to the iron discipline\\nI", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0361.jp2"}, "362": {"fulltext": "326\\nSELF-CONTROL.\\nof Calvinism. An entirely new direction was\\nthus given to his energy of temperament,\\nwhich forced an outlet for itself into public\\nlife, and eventually became the dominating\\nof self-control, self-denial, and determination\\nof purpose. William the Silent was so\\ncalled, not because he was a taciturn man\\nfor he was an eloquent and powerful speaker\\nOLIVER CROMWELL.\\ninfluence in England for a period of nearly\\ntwenty years. The iron hand was always\\nfelt under the velvet glove.\\nThe heroic princes of the house of Nassau\\nwere all distinguished for the same qualities\\nwhere eloquence was necessary but because\\nhe was a man who could hold his tongue\\nwhen it was wisdom not to speak, and\\nbecause he carefully kept his own counsel\\nwhen to have revealed it might have beea", "height": "3481", "width": "2460", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0362.jp2"}, "363": {"fulltext": "THE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\n327\\ndangerous to the liberties of his country and\\nequally dangerous to himself.\\nHe was so gentle and conciliatory in his\\nmanner that his enemies even described him\\nas timid and pussillanimous. Yet, when the\\ntime for action came, his courage was heroic,\\nhis determination unconquerable. The\\nrock in the ocean, says Mr. Motley, the his-\\ntorian of the Netherlands, tranquil amid\\nraging billows, was the favorite emblem by\\nwhich his friends expressed their sense of his\\nfirmness.\\nTwo Renowned Patriots.\\nMr. Motley compares WilHam the Silent\\nto Washington, whom he in many respects\\nresembled. The American, like the Dutch\\npatriot, stands out in history as the very\\nimpersonation of dignity, bravery, purity, and\\npersonal excellence. His command over his\\nfeelings, even in moments of great difficulty\\nand danger, was such as to convey the\\nimpression, to those who did not know him\\nintimately, that he was a man of inborn\\ncalmness and almost impassiveness of dispo-\\nsition. Yet Washington was by nature\\nardent and impetuous his mildness, gentle-\\nness, politeness, and consideration for others,\\nwere the result of rigid self-control and un-\\nwearied self-discipline, which he diligently\\npracticed even from his boyhood. His\\nbiographer says of him, that his tempera-\\nment was ardent, his passions strong, and,\\namidst the multiplied scenes of temptation\\nand excitement through which he passed, it\\nwas his constant effort, and ultimate triumph,\\nto check the one and subdue the other.\\nAnd again His passions were strong,\\nand sometimes they broke out with vehe-\\nmence, but he had the power of checking\\nthem in an instant. Perhaps self-control was\\nthe most remarkable trait of his character.\\nIt was in part the effect of discipline yet he\\nseems by nature to have possessed this power\\nin a degree which has been denied to other\\nmen.\\nHis faculties were so well balanced and\\ncombined that his constitution, free from\\nexcess, was tempered evenly with all the ele-\\nments of activity, and his mind resembled a\\nwell-organized commonwealth his passions,\\nwhich had the intensest vigor, owned allegi-\\nance to reason and with all the fiery quick-\\nness of his spirit, his impetuous and massive\\nwill was held in check by consummate judg-\\nment. He had in his composition a calm\\nwhich gave him in moments of highest\\nexcitement the power of self-control, and\\nenabled him to excel in patience, even when\\nhe had most cause for disgust.\\nCalm in Battle.\\nThe Duke of Wellington s natural temper,,\\nlike that of Napoleon, was irritable in the\\nextreme, and it was only by watchful self-\\ncontrol that he was enabled to restrain it.\\nHe studied calmness and coolness in the\\nmidst of danger, like any Indian chief. At\\nWaterloo, and elsewhere, he gave his orders\\nin the most critical moments without the\\nslightest excitement, and in a tone of voice\\nalmost more than usually subdued.\\nNapoleon when twenty-six years of age\\nwas made commander-in-chief of the army\\nof Italy, with many veteran officers under\\nhim.\\nHe said, I pursued a line of conduct in-\\nthe highest degree irreproachable and exem-\\nplary. My supremacy could be retained\\nonly by proving myself a better man than\\nany other man in the army. Had I yielded\\nto human weaknesses I should have lost my\\npower.\\nWordsworth the poet was, in his child-\\nhood, of a stiff moody and violent temper,\\nand perverse and obstinate in defying chas-\\nk", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0363.jp2"}, "364": {"fulltext": "328\\nSELF-CONTROL.\\ntisement. When experience of life had I to defy the criticism of his enemies. Nothing\\ndisciplined his temper, he learnt to exercise was more marked than Wordsworth s self-\\n\u00c2\u00bbP^^@\\nTHE DUKE OF WELLINGTON.\\ngreater self-control; but, at the same time,\\nthe qualities which distinguished him as a\\nchild were afterwards useful in enabling him\\nrespect and self-determination, as well as his\\nself-consciousness of power, at all periods of\\nhis long and brilliant history.", "height": "3481", "width": "2477", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0364.jp2"}, "365": {"fulltext": "THE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\n329\\nHenry Martyn, the missionary, was\\nanother instance of a man in whom strength\\nof temper was only so much pent-up, unripe\\nenergy. As a boy he was impatient, petu-\\nlant and perverse; but by constant wrestling\\nagainst his tendency to wrongheadedness, he\\ngradually gained the requisite strength, so\\nas to entirely overcome it, and to acquire\\nwhat he so greatly coveted the gift of\\npatience.\\nA man may be feeble in organization, but,\\nblessed with a happy temperament, his soul\\nmay be great, active, noble and sovereign.\\nProfessor Tyndall has given us a fine picture\\nof the character of Faraday, and of his self-\\ndenying labors in the cause of science\\nexhibiting him as a man of strong, original,\\nand even fiery nature, and yet of extreme\\ntenderness and sensibility. Underneath\\nhis sweetness and gentleness, he says,\\nwas the heat of a volcano. He was a\\nman of excitable and fiery nature; but,\\nthrough high self-disciphne, he had con-\\nverted the fire into a central glow and\\nmotive-power of life, instead of permitting\\nit to waste itself in useless passion.\\nHad no Use for a Bad Temper.\\nThis may be said of all strong characters.\\nThe Duke of Marlborough, possessed great\\ncommand of temper, and never permitted it\\nto be ruffled by little things, in which even\\nthe greatest men have been occasionally\\nfound unguarded. As he was riding one\\nday with Commissary Marriott, it began to\\nrain, and he called to his servant for his\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2cloak. The servant not bringing it imme-\\ndiately, he called for it again. The servant,\\nbeing embarrassed with the straps and\\nbuckles, did not come up to him. At last,\\nat raining very hard, the Duke called to him\\nagain, and asked him what he was about that\\nhe did not bring his cloak. You must stay.\\nsir, grumbled the fellow, if it rains cats\\nand dogs, till I can get at it. The Duke\\nturned round to Marriott, and said very\\ncoolly, Now I would not be of that fel-\\nlow s temper for all the world.\\nMilton says He who reigns within him-\\nself, and rules passions, desires and fears, is\\nmore than a king.\\nI Hold Still.\\nPain s furnace-heat within me quivers,\\nGod s breath upon the flame doth blow,\\nAnd all my heart within me shivers\\nAnd trembles at the fiery glow\\nAnd yet I whisper As God will\\nAnd in the hottest fire, hold still.\\nHe comes and lays my heart, all heated,\\nOn the hard anvil, minded so\\nInto His own fair shape to beat it,\\nWith His own hammer, blow on blow\\nAnd yet I whisper As God will\\nAnd at His heaviest blows, hold still.\\nHe takes my softened heart, and beats it\\nThe sparks fly ofi at every blow\\nHe turns it o er and o er, and heats it.\\nAnd lets it cool, and makes it glow\\nAnd yet I whisper As God will\\nAnd in the mighty hand, hold still.\\nWhy should I murmur for the sorrow\\nThus only longer lived would be\\nIts end may come, and will, to-morrow.\\nWhen God has done His work in me.\\nSo I say, trusting As God will\\nAnd trusting to the end, hold still.\\nHe kindles for my profit purely\\nAifiiction s glowing, fiery brand.\\nAnd all His heaviest blows are surely\\nInflicted by a Master s hand\\nSo I say, praying, As God will\\nAnd hope in Him and suffer still.\\nIt is necessary to one s personal happi-\\nness, to exercise control over one s words\\nas well as acts: for there are words that\\nstrike even harder than blows; and men\\nmay speak daggers, though they use\\nnone. The stinging repartee that rises to", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0365.jp2"}, "366": {"fulltext": "330\\nSELF-CONTROL.\\nthe lips, and which, if uttered, might cover\\nan adversary Avith confusion, how difficult\\nit sometimes is to resist it! Heaven keep\\nus from the destroying power of words!\\nThere are words which sever hearts more\\nthan sharp swords do there are words the\\npoint of which sting the heart through the\\ncourse of a whole life.\\nRegard for Others Feelings.\\nThus character exhibits itself in self-con-\\ntrol of speech as much as in anything else.\\nThe wise and forbearant man will restrain\\nhis desire to say a smart or severe thing at\\nthe expense of another s feelings; while the\\nfool blurts out what he thinks, and will sac-\\nrifice his friend rather .than his joke. The\\nmouth of a wise man, said Solomon, is\\nin his heart; the heart of a fool is in his\\nmouth.\\nThere are, however, men who are no fools,\\nthat are headlong in their language as in\\ntheir acts, because of their want of forbear-\\nance and self-restraining patience. The im-\\npulsive genius, gifted with quick thought and\\nincisive speech perhaps carried away by\\nthe cheers of the moment lets fly a sarcas-\\ntic sentence which may return upon him to\\nhis own infinite damage.\\nEven statesmen might be named, who\\nhave failed through their inability to resist\\nthe temptation of saying clever and spiteful\\nthings at their adversary s expense. This\\nwas the great failing of that man of magnifi-\\ncent abilities. Senator Roscoe Conkling.\\nWhile he had a host of admirers, even wor-\\nshippers, he also had the bitterest enemies,\\nmade so by his lack of control over his own\\nsarcastic tongue.\\nThe turn of a sentence, says Bentham,\\nhas decided the fate of many a friendship,\\nand, for aught that we know, the fate of\\nmany a kingdom. So, when one is tempted\\nto write a clever but harsh thing, though it\\nmay be difficult to restrain it, it is always\\nbetter to leave it in the inkstand. A goose s\\nquill, says the Spanish proverb, oftea\\nhurts more than a lion s claw.\\nCarlyle says, when speaking of Oliver\\nCromwell, He that cannot withal keep his\\nmind to himself, cannot practice any consid-\\nerable thing whatsoever. It was said of\\nWilliam the Silent, by one of his greatest\\nenemies, that an arrogant or indiscreet word\\nwas never known to fall from his lips. Like\\nhim, Washington was discretion itself in the\\nuse of speech, never taking advantage of an\\nopponent, or seeking a short-lived triumph\\nin a debate. And it is said that, in the long\\nrun, the world comes round to and supports\\nthe wise man who knows when and how to\\nbe silent.\\nHolding One s Tongue.\\nWe have heard men of great experience\\nsay that they have often regretted having\\nspoken, but never once regretted holding\\ntheir tongue. Be silent, says Pythagoras,\\nor say something better than silence.\\nSpeak fitly, says George Herbert, or be\\nsilent wisely. St. Francis de Sales, whom\\nLeigh Hunt styled the Gentleman Saint,\\nhas said It is better to remain silent than\\nto speak the truth ill-humoredly, and so\\nspoil an excellent dish by covering it with\\nbad sauce.\\nThere are, of course, times and occasions\\nwhen the expression of indignation is not\\nonly justifiable but necessary. We are\\nbound to be indignant at falsehood, selfish-\\nness, and cruelty. A man of true feeling\\nfires up naturally at baseness or meanness of\\nany sort, even in cases where he may be\\nunder no obligation to speak out. I would\\nhave nothing to do, said Perthes, with the\\nman who cannot be moved to indignation.", "height": "3497", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0366.jp2"}, "367": {"fulltext": "THE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\n331\\nThere are more good people than bad in the\\nworld, and the bad get the upper hand\\nmerely because they are bolder. We cannot\\nhelp being pleased with a man who uses his\\npowers with decision and we often take his\\nside for no other reason than because he\\ndoes not so use them. No doubt, I have\\noften repented speaking but not less often\\nhave I repented keeping silence.\\nTo acquire the art of properly command-\\ning ourselves, in all circumstances especially\\nin the most trying emergencies, and at a\\nmoment of dajiger, when not a minute, per-\\nhaps not a second, should be lost is as\\ndifficult as it is important to every person\\nand to none perhaps more so, than to young\\nwomen. Not that their trials of this sort\\nwill be more frequent than those of other\\npeople but because the usual course of\\ntheir education is such as to prepare them\\nbut poorly to meet those which fall to their\\nlot.\\nA Heroic Woman.\\nSome years ago, when the Indians had\\nnot yet done making depredations on the\\ninhabitants of our then frontier states, Ken-\\ntucky and Ohio, a band of these savage men\\ncame to the door of a house in Nelson\\ncounty, Ky., and having shot down the\\nfather of the little family within, who had\\nincautiously opened the door, they attempted\\nto rush in and put to death the defenceless\\nand unoffending mother and her children.\\nBut Mrs. Merrill for that was the name of\\nthe heroic woman had much of that self-\\ncommand, or presence of mind, which was\\nnow so needful. She drew her wounded\\nhusband into the house, closed the door and\\nbarred it as quickly as possible, so that the\\nIndians could not enter at once, and then\\nproceeded to the defence of her castle, and\\nall those in it whom she held dear.\\nThe Indians had soon hewed away a part\\nof the door, so that they could force them-\\nselves in, one by one, but not very rapidly.\\nThis slow mode of entrance gave time to\\nMrs. Merrill to despatch them with an axe,\\nand drag them in; so that before those with-\\nout were aware of the fate of those inside,\\nshe had, with a little assistance from her\\nhusband, formed quite a pile of dead bodies\\nwithin and around the door; and even the\\nlittle children, half dead though they at first\\nwere with fear, had gradually begun to re-\\ncover from their fright.\\nConquered by Strategy.\\nThe Indians, finding their party so rapidly\\ndisappearing, at length began to suspect what\\nwas their fate, and accordingly gave up their\\nefforts in that direction. They now attempted\\nto descend into the house by way of the\\nchimney. The united wisdom and presence\\nof mind of the family was again put in\\nrequisition, and they emptied upon the fire\\nthe contents of a feather bed, which brought\\ndown, half smothered, those Indians that\\nwere in the chimney, who were also soon\\nand easily despatched. The remainder of\\nthe party, now very much reduced in num-\\nbers, became quite discouraged, and con-\\ncluded it was best to retire.\\nI have not related this story because I\\nsuppose any of my readers will ever be tried\\nin this particular manner. Many of them,,\\nhowever, may be placed in circumstances\\nexceedingly trying; and their lives and\\nthose of others may depend on a little\\npresence of mind.\\nSuppose, now, that Mrs. Merrill, instead\\nof dragging her wounded husband into the\\nhouse and fastening the door, had stood still\\nand screamed; or suppose she had fainted,\\nor run away; what would have been the\\nresult? We do not know, it is true; but we", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0367.jp2"}, "368": {"fulltext": "332\\nSELF-CONTROL.\\nknow enough of the Indian mode of warfare\\nto see that no condition could well be more\\nperilous.\\nIt cannot be denied that the large share\\nof nervous sensibility which is allotted to the\\nfemale constitution, peculiarly unfits woman\\nfor scenes of blood. And yet we see what\\ncan be done, as a last resort.\\nBut if most females were fitted for trying\\nemergencies, how much better they could\\nmeet the- more common accidents and dan-\\ngers to which human existence is daily more\\nor less liable. And ought they not to be\\nthus fitted?\\nDo you ask how it can be done? It is a\\nwork that is at present chiefly left undone,\\nboth by parents and teachers, and yet hun-\\ndreds of lives are lost every year for the\\nwant of it and hundreds of others are likely\\nto be lost in the same way every year for\\nmany years to come, unless the work is\\ntaken up as a work of importance, and\\nstudied with as much zeal as grammar, or\\ngeography, or botany, or mathematics.\\nYou should have Presence of Mind.\\nIt is a most pitiable sight to see a young\\nwoman, twelve, fifteen, or it may be eighteen\\nyears of age, left to take care of a babe,\\nsuffer its clothes to get on fire by some\\naccident, and then, without the least particle\\nof self-command, only jump up and down\\nand scream, till the child is burnt to death\\nor what perhaps is still worse, rush out for\\nrelief, leaving the door wide open to let\\nthrough a current of air to hasten the work\\nof destruction.\\nEqually distressing and pitiable is it, to\\nsee females, young or old, losing all presence\\nof mind the moment a horse takes fright, or\\na gale of wind capsizes the vessel in which\\nthey are traveling, and by their erratic move-\\nments, depriving themselves of the only\\nopportunity which remains to them, of sav-\\ning themselves or of assisting to save others.\\nBut the question recurs How can these\\nevils be prevented? In what way can our\\nyoung women be taught or in what way\\ncan they be induced to teach themselves\\nthe important art of commanding themselves,\\non all occasions, and in all emergencies?\\nThe only way of being prepared for the\\nsudden accidents of life by being able to\\nkeep cool, and possess our souls in peace\\nis to think on the subject often, and con-\\nsider what we would do, should such and\\nsuch accidents occur.\\nAnticipating Dangers.\\nThus we should consider often what we\\nought to do, if a horse in a carriage should\\nrun away with us; if we should awake and\\nfind the house on fire over our heads what\\nto be done, if we were in this room or in\\nthat if our clothes should take fire if we\\nshould be burnt or scalded what to be done\\nif scalded with water, and what, if with milk,\\noil, or any other substance; if a child should\\nfall into a well, be kicked by a horse, be\\nseized by convulsions, or break or dislocate\\na limb.\\nIt will be asked of what avail it is to think\\nover and over what should be done, without\\nthe instructions, either of experience or\\nscience. But we can have these instructions,\\nto some extent, whenever we seek after them.\\nThe great trouble is, we are not in the habit\\nof seeking for them and what we do not\\nseek, we rarely, if ever, find.\\nThere are around every young woman,\\nthose whose judgment is worth something in\\nthis matter. It is not always the old\\nthough it is more generally such. There\\nare those who live in the world almost half a\\ncentury without learning anything; and there\\nare also those who become wise in a quarter", "height": "3497", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0368.jp2"}, "369": {"fulltext": "THE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\n333\\nof a century. The wise, whatever may be\\ntheir age, are the persons for you to consult\\nand the older such persons are, the better\\nbecause the greater is likely to be their\\nwisdom. The truly wise, are always grow-\\ning wiser it is the fool alone who remains\\nstationary.\\nIt is no part of my purpose to direct to the\\nappropriate methods of saving ourselves or\\nour friends from harm, in case of accidents\\nor emergencies but only to point to the\\nsubject, and leave the reader to pursue it.\\nThe intelligent young woman who sets about\\ngaining the habit of self-command, will not\\nonly consult the experience of others, but\\nobserve, and reflect, and reason on the case\\nherself. She will often originate plans and\\nmeans of escape, in places and circumstances\\nof danger, which she would not gain from\\nothers in a hundred or a thousand years.\\nMake the Most of It.\\nThere is one other means of improvement\\nin the art of self-command. It is to make\\nthe most of every little accident or emergency\\nthat actually overtakes or surprises us.\\nThere are those who, though they were\\nformerly frightened half out of their senses,\\nat the sudden sight of a harmless snake,\\nhave brought themselves, by dint of long\\neffort, to so much presence of mind, as only\\nto start a little at first and to be as calm,\\nand composed, and self-possessed, in a few\\nseconds afterward, as if nothing had hap-\\npened. And the same presence of mind\\nmay be obtained in other surprises or emer-\\ngencies. Besides, she who is learning to\\ncommand herself at sight of a snake or a\\ndog, is at the same time acquiring the\\npower to command herself in any other\\ncircumstances where self-command may be\\nnecessary.\\nWhat we want is.\\nto gain the habit of self-\\ncommand in all circumstances, rather than\\nto be able to work ourselves up to a proper\\nstate of feeling in particular cases; and\\nthis habit is to be acquired by frequent\\nfamiliar conversation on the subject, and by\\ndaily practice in the continually recurring\\nsmall matters of life.\\nAcquiring Self-Control.\\nIt is, indeed, in governing ourselves in\\nthese small matters which recur so fre-\\nquently, and are regarded as so trifling as to\\nhave not only no moral character in them-\\nselves, but no influence in the formation of\\ncharacter that the art of self-control is to\\nbe chiefly acquired. They who defer the\\nwork till some larger or more striking emer-\\ngency arrives, will not be likely to make\\nmuch progress for they begin at the wrong\\nend of the matter. They begin exactly\\nwhere they ought to end.\\nLife will always be, to a great extent,\\nwhat we ourselves make it. The cheerful\\nman makes a cheerful world, the gloomy\\nman a gloomy one. We usually find but\\nour own temperament reflected in the dispo-\\nsitions of those about us. If we are ourselves\\nquerulous, we will find them so; if we are\\nunforgiving and uncharitable to them, they\\nwill be the same to us. A person returning\\nfrom an evening party not long ago, com-\\nplained to a policeman on his beat that an\\nill-looking fellow was following him: it\\nturned out to be only his own shadow And\\nsuch usually is human life to each of us it\\nis, for the most part, but the reflection of\\nourselves.\\nIf we would be at peace with others, and\\ninsure their respect, we must have regard for\\ntheir personality. Every man has his pucu-\\nliarities of manner and character, as he has\\npeculiarities of form and feature and we\\nmust have forbearance in dealing with them,", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0369.jp2"}, "370": {"fulltext": "334\\nSELF-CONTROL.\\nas we expect them to have forbearance in\\ndealing with us. We may not be conscious\\nof our own peculiarities, yet they exist never-\\ntheless. There is a village in South America\\nwhere goitres an enlargement of the neck\\nare so common that to be without one is\\nregarded as a deformity. One day a party\\nof Englishmen passed through the place,\\nwhen quite a crowd collected to jeer them,\\nshouting See, see these people they have\\ngot no goitres f\\nSenseless Worry.\\nMany persons give themselves a great\\ndeal of fidget concerning what other people\\nthink of them and their peculiarities. Some\\nare too much disposed to take the ill-natured\\nside, and, judging by themselves, infer the\\nworst. But it is very often the case that the\\nuncharitableness of others, where it really\\nexists, is but the reflection of our own want\\nof charity and want of temper. It still\\noftener happens, that the worry we subject\\nourselves to has its source in our own imagi-\\nnation. And even though those about us\\nmay think of us uncharitably, we shall not\\nmend matters by exasperating ourselves\\nagainst them. We may thereby only expose\\nourselves unnecessarily to their ill-nature or\\ncaprice. The ill that comes out of our\\nmouth, says George Herbert, ofttimes\\nfalls into our bosom.\\nThe great and good philosopher Faraday\\ncommunicated the following piece of admira-\\nble advice, full of practical wisdom, the result\\nof a rich experience of life, in a letter to a\\nfriend Let me, as an old man, who ought\\nby this time to have profited by experience,\\nsay that when I was younger I found I often\\nmisrepresented the intentions of people, and\\nthat they did not mean what at the time I\\nsupposed they meant and further, that, as\\na general rule, it was better to be a little dull\\nof apprehension where phrases seemed to\\nimply pique, and quick in perception when,\\non the contrary, they seemed to imply\\nkindly feeling. The real truth never fails\\nultimately to appear and opposing parties,\\nif wrong, are sooner convinced when replied\\nto forbearingly, than when overwhelmed.\\nAll I mean to say is, that it is better to\\nbe blind to the results of partisanship, and\\nquick to see good-will. One has more\\nhappiness in one s self in endeavoring to\\nfollow the things that make for peace. You\\ncan hardly imagine how often I have been\\nheated in private when opposed, as I have\\nthought unjustly and superciliously, and yet\\nI have striven, and succeeded, I hope, in\\nkeeping down replies of the like kind and I\\nknow I have never lost by it.\\nSomething hard to Practice.\\nIt is far easier to recommend self-control\\nthan to practice it. We can always advise\\nwhat others should do better than we can\\ndo the same thing ourselves.\\nNo one knew the value of self-control\\nbetter than the poet Burns, and no one\\ncould teach it more eloquently to others;\\nbut when it came to practice. Burns was as\\nweak as the weakest. He could not deny\\nhimself the pleasure of uttering a harsh and\\nclever sarcasm at another s expense. One\\nof his biographers observes of him, that it\\nwas no extravagant arithmetic to say that\\nfor every ten jokes he made himself a hun-\\ndred enemies. But this was not all. Poor\\nBurns exercised no control over his appetites,\\nbut freely gave them the rein\\nThus thoughtless follies laid him low\\nAnd stained his name.\\nOne of Burns s finest poems, written in\\nhis twenty-eighth year, is entitled A Bard s\\nEpitaph. It is a description, by anticipa-", "height": "3496", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0370.jp2"}, "371": {"fulltext": "THE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\n335\\ntion, of his own life. It concludes with\\nthese lines\\nReader, attend whether thy soul\\nSoars fancy s flights beyond the pole,\\nOr darkling grubs this earthly hole\\nIn low pursuit\\nKnow prudent, cautious self-control.\\nIs wisdom s root.\\nThe courage of self-control exhibits itself\\nin many ways, but in none more clearly than\\nin honest living. Men without the virtue of\\nself-denial are not only subject to their own\\nselfish desires, but they are usually in bond-\\nage to others who are like-minded with them-\\nselves. What others do, they do. They\\nmust live according to the artificial standard\\nof their class, spending like their neighbors,\\nregardless of the consequences, at the same\\ntime that all are, perhaps, aspiring after a\\n5tyle of living higher than their means.\\nEach carries the others along with him, and\\nthey have not the moral courage to stop.\\nThey cannot resist the temptation of living\\nhigh, though it may be at the expense of\\nothers and they gradually become reckless\\nof debt, until it enthralls them. In all this\\nthere is great moral cowardice, pusillanimity,\\nand want of manly independence of character.\\nA right-minded man will shrink from\\nseeming to be what he is not, or pretending\\nto be richer than he really is, or assuming\\na style of living that his circumstances will\\nnot justify. He will have the courage to\\nlive honestly within his own means, rather\\nthan dishonestly upon the means of other\\npeople; for he who incurs debts in striving\\nto maintain a style of living beyond his\\nincome, is in spirit as dishonest as the man\\nwho openly picks your pocket.\\nSELF=CONTROL IN ADVERSITY.\\nSome time, when all life s lessons have been learned,\\nAnd sun and stars forevermore have set.\\nThe things which our weak judgments here have\\nspurned\\nThe things o er which we grieved with lashes wet\\nWill flash before us, out of life s dark night,\\nAs stars shine most in deeper tints of blue\\nAnd we shall see how all God s plans were right.\\nAnd how what seemed reproof was love most true.\\nAnd we shall see how, while we frown and sigh,\\nGod s plans go on as best for you and me\\nHow, when we called, He heeded not our cry.\\nBecause His wisdom to the end could see.\\nAnd even as wise parents disallow\\nToo much of sweet to craving babyhood,\\nSo, God, perhaps, is keeping from us now\\nLife s sweetest things because it seemeth good.\\nAnd if, sometimes, commingled with life s wine.\\nWe find the wormwood, and rebel and shrink.\\nBe sure a wiser hand than yours or mine\\nPours out this portion for our lips to drink.\\nAnd if some friend we love is lying low.\\nWhere human kisses cannot reach his face.\\nOh, do not blame the loving Father so.\\nBut wear your sorrow with obedient grace\\nAnd you shall shortly know that lengthened breath\\nIs not the sweetest gift God sends His friend,\\nAnd that, sometimes, the sable pall of death\\nConceals the fairest boon His love can send.\\nIf we could push ajar the gates of life.\\nAnd stand within, and all God s workings see\\nWe could interpret all this doubt and strife.\\nAnd for each mystery could find a key\\nBut not to-day. Then be content, poor heart\\nGod s plans, like lilies, pure and white unfold,\\nWe must not tear the close-shut leaves apart\\nTime will reveal the calyxes of gold.\\nAnd if, through patient toil, we reach the land\\nWhere tired feet, with sandals loose, may rest.\\nWhen we shall clearly know and understand,\\nI think that we will say, God knew the best\\nMay Rir,EY Smith.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0371.jp2"}, "372": {"fulltext": "CONTENTMENT.", "height": "3497", "width": "2491", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0372.jp2"}, "373": {"fulltext": "CHAPTER XXI.\\nCONTENTMENT.\\nT is very easy for those who have\\neverything they need, to advise\\nthose who have not everything\\nthey need to be contented, and\\nmakethebest of their lot. Noth-\\ning is cheaper than advice and\\nnothing is more common than\\nto gravely tell other people what they should\\ndo when we really know nothing of their\\ncircumstances and trials. The bird in the\\nfable could not understand why the fish on\\nthe bank of the stream was so uneasy, but\\nthe bird if plunged in the water would have\\nbeen no less troubled. The fact is, we give\\na dvice when we do not know anything about\\nthe situation.\\nWhy should not rich peopl and all those\\nwhose wants are gratified be contented\\nDon t worry, they say, don t fret, don t\\nget into a passion, be content with your lot.\\nOne might well reply, Exchange places\\nwith me and I will be as contented as you\\nare. Certainly, a contented mind is a con-\\ntinual feast, but how am I to have the con-\\ntinual feast when plans fail, health is broken,\\nthe purse yawns, the wardrobe is shabby, the\\nagent is clamoring for rent, the children s\\ntoes are in plain sight in winter, and all\\nthings are against me\\nYet it is certain there is such a thing as\\ncontentment and it is a good thing to have.\\nYou do not need to make the worst of your\\nlot you should make the best of it. Don t\\npull your hat down over your eyes and then\\ncomplain that you cannot see God s sunlight\\nand flowers. Have an eye to the bright and\\n22\\nbeautiful things of life. No outward lot can\\ngive content to a grumbling soul. Astor s\\nmillions could not do it. And a contented\\nspirit may be found in the humblest home.\\nIt is a great blessing to possess what one\\nwishes, said a man to an ancient philoso-\\npher. It is a greater still, was the reply,\\nnot to desire what one does not possess.\\nJohn Newton once made this remark, If\\ntwo angels were sent down from heaven, one\\nto conduct an empire and the other to sweep\\na street, they would feel no inclination to\\nchange employments. You, being human,\\nwould much prefer to give up the street\\nsweeping and govern the empire so would I.\\nWe would rebel against the menial employ-\\nment, but then we are not angels. This\\nchapter, to be really practical, should be\\naimed at those who are habitu-al fault-finders.\\nCultivating Contentment.\\nIf we cannot have all we wish upon the earth.\\nLet us try to be happy with less if we can\\nIf wealth be not always the guerdon of worth.\\nWorth, sooner than wealth, makes the happier\\nIs it wise to be anxious for pleasures afar\\nAnd the pleasures around us to slight or decry\\nAsking Night for the sun\u00e2\u0080\u0094 asking Day for the star?\\nL,et us conquer such faults, or, at least, let us try.\\nIf the soil of a garden be worthy our care\\nIts culture delightful, though ever so small\\nOh then let the heart the same diligence share.\\nAnd the flowers of affection will rival them all.\\nThere ne er was delusion more constantly shown.\\nThan that wealth every charm of existence can\\nbuy\\n337", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0373.jp2"}, "374": {"fulltext": "338\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nAs long as love, friendship, and truth are life s own,\\nAll hearts may be happy, if all hearts will try\\nChari^es Swain.\\nContentment Gained.\\nMy conscience is my crown, contented thoughts my\\nrest.\\nMy heart is happy in itself, my bliss is in my\\nbreast.\\nEnough I reckon wealth a mean the surest lot,\\n^hat lies too high for base contempt, too low for\\nenvy s shot.\\nMy wishes are but few, all easy to fulfil,\\nI make the limits of my pov/er the bonds unto my\\nwill.\\nI have no hopes but one, which is of heavenly reign\\nEffects attained, or not desired, all lower hopes\\nrefrain.\\nI feel no care of coin, well-doing is my wealth.\\nMy mind to me an empire is, while grace affordeth\\nhealth.\\nRobert Southwei,!,.\\nThere are some persons who are always\\ncomplaining. They are miserable and un-\\nhappy throughout the year, or, at least, they\\nseem to be. The world is constantly at\\nfault with them, and they rarely smile.\\nAddress them with the ordinary compli-\\nments of the day, and they are sure to find\\nsomething to grumble at. The weather is\\nnever of the right kind. It is too hot or too\\ncold, too wet or too dry; and thus they\\nmove on among their fellow-creatures, as a\\nsort of personified chill. Their very appear-\\nance casts a shadow-like gloom over all\\naround and about them.\\nAt home their meals are badly cooked,\\nthe servants are neglectful, and the children\\nnoisy and disobedient. Nothing goes on as\\nit should. Everything has a drawback.\\nGayety is denounced as boisterousness, and\\na laugh is treated as a vulgarity. The poor\\nwife, however obedient, is complained of,\\nwhile, if she should be so unfortunate as to\\ncommit an error, it is magnified into a\\ncrime.\\nThese gloomy persons are never in good\\nhealth. They are always troubled with\\nsome ache or pain. They are born to be\\nmiserable. At least, they so contend, and\\nthey often make themselves unhappy with-\\nout the slightest cause. Life to them is a\\ncurse instead of a blessing. They M ill not\\nor they cannot appreciate the beneficence of\\nProvidence. If in narrow circumstances,\\nthey regard themselves as among the most\\nunfortunate of mankind; and if, in the enjoy-\\nment of abundant wealth, they become ner-\\nvous, restless and anxious lest the golden\\nprize should slip from their hands. Too\\nmuch property they regard as a care and an\\nincumbrance. And yet they are eager for\\nthe accumulation of more. They are not\\nsatisfied with themselves, and are at the\\nsame time envious and jealous of the rest of\\nmankind. They look through jaundiced\\neyes, and are the victims of a discontented\\nmind.\\nSour Grumblers.\\nThe curse is within. It is in the temper\\nor heart. Alas for these wretched grum-\\nblers these miserable monomaniacs. They\\ndo not deserve the blessing of God s sun-\\nshine, the pure air and the clear light of\\nheaven, for they are ungrateful, insensible\\nand unappreciating. They have no thought\\nfor others. Self is the absorbing idea and\\nthus the poor may shiver in the shade, or\\nlanguish on a bed of sickness, without\\nexciting in their bosoms even a momentary\\nsympathy\\nHow beautiful, in contrast, is the cheerful,\\nthe buoyant and the bounding spirit. Life is\\nto such all bright and beautiful. Every new\\nscene has a charm, every fresh incident an\\ninterest. The clouds of to-day are regarded\\nas passing clouds, and sunshine is looked\\nfor on the morrow. A kind word is ever on\\nthe lips, a gentle thought is ever in the heart,", "height": "3481", "width": "2358", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0374.jp2"}, "375": {"fulltext": "CONTENTMENT.\\n339\\na pleasant smile is ever in the countenance.\\nTo say a clever thing, or to do a good turn,\\nis deemed a pleasure. Friendship is treas-\\nured as one of the brightest jewels of the\\nhuman soul and love, in all its richness and\\ntruth, fidelity and warmth is regarded as an\\nemanation from the Divine Being himself\\nLife is full of hope and promise and even\\nthe mishaps and misfortunes to which all are\\nmore or less liable, are viewed in the true\\nspirit of philosophy, as intended to chasten,\\nto restrain, to keep us within moderate\\nbounds and to remind us of our dependence\\nupon Providence.\\nThe presence of the cheerful in spirit acts\\nlike a beam of sunshine to the social circle.\\nIt warms and brightens. It softens and sub-\\ndues. The quality is a happy one in every\\ncondition of life. But it is especially so\\namong friends and associates, and with those\\nwho have pledged themselves for weal or for\\nwoe. Imagine the household that is presided\\nover by a spirit of discontent, disquiet, dis-\\nsatisfaction and gloom.\\nA Cheerless Home.\\nThe effect cannot be but disheartening and\\nchilling. Nay, one result inevitably is to\\nmake that home deserted. The cheerfulness\\nthat cannot be found there will be sought\\nelsewhere. The complaints that are uttered\\nagain and again, at last become painful, and\\nare avoided. Cheerfulness we regard as one\\nof the essentials of domestic life. It should\\nbe cultivated with constant assiduity. With-\\nout it, fretfulness, peevishness, anxiety and\\ncollision are almost inevitable.\\nAll who have determined, by choice, or\\nwho are forced by circumstances, to mingle\\ntogether freely and frequently, to occupy\\nhours and days in each other s society,\\nshould not permit themselves to give way to\\ndiscontent, dissatisfaction, fretfulness and\\ncomplaint. A sunny smile of welcome has\\ntouched and won many an obdurate heart.\\nA kind word and a genial look, together\\nwith a cheerful temper, will, in the end,\\nprove irresistible. At least, this is our\\ndoctrine, and we bespeak for it a fair trial.\\nRiches of Contentment.\\nIt is the mind that maketh good or ill,\\nThat maketh wretch or happy, rich or poor\\nFor some that hath abundance at his will,\\nHath not enough but wants in greater store\\nAnd other, that hath little, asks for more,\\nBut in that little is both rich and wise\\nFor wisdom is most riches fools therefore\\nThey are which fortune do by vows devise,\\nSith each imto himself his life may fortunize.\\nEdmund Spenssr.\\nPleased with what I Have.\\nI weigh not fortune s frown or smile\\nI joy not much in earthly joys\\nI seek not state, I seek not style\\nI am not fond of fancy s toys\\nI rest so pleased with what I have,\\nI wish no more, no more I crave.\\nI quake not at the thunder s crack\\nI tremble not at noise of war\\nI swound not at the news of wrack\\nI shrink not at a blazing star\\nI fear not loss, I hope not gain,\\nI envy none, I none disdain.\\nI see ambition never pleased\\nI see some Tantals starved in store\\nI see gold s dropsy seldom eased\\nI see e en Midas gape for more\\nI neither want, nor yet abound\\nEnough s a feast, content is crowned.\\nI feign not friendship, where I hate\\nI fawn not on the great in show\\nI prize, I praise a mean estate\\nNeither too lofty nor too low\\nThis, this is all my choice, my cheer-\\nA mind content, a conscience clear.\\nJoshua Sylvester\\nContentment is not a mere passive indiffer-\\nence. There is an easy-going class of\\npeople who seem incapable of any great", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0375.jp2"}, "376": {"fulltext": "340\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\ndisquietude. They are placid as a summer\\nsky. They are too sluggish ever to be\\nmuch excited their nerves are buried a\\nthousand miles deep; they never explode,\\nnever chafe, never effervesce, never worry,\\nare never found in an uncorked condition\\nwith a liabihty of running over. They\\nappear to suffer no alarms they were never\\nknown to be in a hurry they believe the\\nworld was made a long time ago and noth-\\ning remains to be done to it they take\\nthunder and lightning just about as they do\\nsunshine. When others are moved they are\\nserene.\\nEasy-Going People.\\nThe nature is dull the disposition is that\\nof indifference. The modulations of feeling\\nhave a very limited range, and are mostly\\nplayed upon a single string. When they\\nare awake and wish to go to sleep they\\nnever have to travel very far. Are they not\\ncontented souls You never see them\\nruffled or aroused. They are not of the\\nsort who are always up in arms. They\\nlanguidly float through life, and the experi-\\nences that disturb some natures do not\\nruffle their even repose. Good, easy souls,\\nthe blows that strike them do not send back\\nthe ring of metal it is the dull thud of life-\\nless wood.\\nThis is not contentment. It would be\\nnearer truth to call it the contentment of\\nlaziness. It is the peace of sluggishness.\\nWater may stand in pools all lifeless and be\\nvery placid, or it may move in deep rivers,\\nfresh and cool and clear, and still be un-\\nruffled. The Amazon has its repose, and\\nthe stars reflected in its depths are not more\\ncalm.\\nWhile contentment is not lazy indifference,\\nit is equally removed from stoicism. A stoic\\nis a man who really feels, yet says he will\\nnot feel who is sensitive and susceptible,\\nyet hardens himself; who cultivates a don t-\\ncare spirit, and turns a man of flesh into a\\nman of stone.\\nThis was an old philosophy. A certain\\nschool of moralists in Greece taught that the\\nonly mastery over the ills of life was to\\nresist them, just as a bullet-headed, thick-\\nskinned boy would nerve himself up to take\\nhis chastisement without wincing. Marble\\nnever flinches, bronze never weeps. It is\\nthe force of an unconquerable will arraying\\nitself against adversity. The Red Indian\\ncalls it a brave thing to stand in the fire and\\nneither shrink nor quiver. Well, any man\\ncan put on an appearance of contentment, of\\nuncomplaining repose, when he has hard-\\nened his soul into granite. Winter does not\\nchill him, summer does not sweat him,\\npoverty does not pinch him, fortune does\\nnot e.xcite him, sickness does not weary him,\\nlosses do not fret him.\\nA Heart of Stone.\\nYet what, after all, is this save the con-\\ntentment of paralysis A man may be\\nbenumbed with cold until he is quiet yes,\\nand by as much as he is stiffened, by so\\nmuch less is he a man. Your heart goes\\nout as the stone comes in. Life vanishes as\\nslumber and death creep on. This is not\\ncontentment. In truth, while all this is\\ngoing on and there may be the most sullen\\noutward unconcern, there may be disturb-\\nance, storm and night, within the soul. The\\nancients had it in a fable that Aeolus, god of\\nthe winds, kept them imprisoned in the\\ncaves of the earth they were in chains, yet\\nthe fury was all there, wrath ready to break\\nloose.\\nMark the fact, too, that anything like\\nforced submission to the inevitable is not\\ncontentment for such a submission would", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0376.jp2"}, "377": {"fulltext": "CONTENTMENT.\\n341\\nchange the existing state of things if it could,\\nand may in fact be the rankest discontent.\\nPeople sometimes say, We might as well\\ntake things as they come we can t help\\nourselves. They are quiet, and thankful\\nfor the quietness. They have made up\\ntheir minds that they will not have what they\\ncannot get. They say, Lord, I thank thee\\nthat I never fret, but I would fret if it would\\ndo any good. Just so I have known children\\nthat were quiet on Sunday so long as they\\nwere tied up. This is the contentment of a\\ncaged bird open the cage and you will find\\nthe bird is more contented to go than to\\nstay.\\nInward Dissatisfaction.\\nThere is not any large amount of virtue\\nin giving up because you cannot help your-\\nself. An unwilling contentment is not con-\\ntentment at all, for the unwillingness takes\\naway the real essence of the thing. For any\\nthing short of a cheerful acquiescence in the\\nexisting state of things cannot be accounted\\ncontentment. To assent because compelled\\nto to give consent because there is no pos-\\nsible way to evade it to yield as a man\\nsubmits to a pohceman s club what virtue\\ncan there be in such submission to force, to\\niron bars and chains, to hydraulic pressure\\nand grim compulsion There is a species\\nof contentment which is only waiting its\\nopportunity. There is a submission which\\nwould rebel if anything could be gained by\\nit. It goes to the end of the chain, and then\\nstops because the chain will not break.\\nContentment, then, is not a dead indiffer-\\nence, a stupid slumber, a peace born of\\nstoicism or forced submission to the inevit-\\nable. It is an active thing. It is a willing,\\ncheerful, grateful satisfaction with present\\ncircumstances, with life as it is, with the\\nexisting state of things, believing that the\\nexisting condition of things is ordered or\\npermitted in infinite wisdom and love, is the\\nbest, all things considered, and therefore does\\nnot call for murmuring or feverish complaint.\\nIt is a feeling which simply takes what kind\\nProvidence gives, be it much or little, and is\\nsatisfied.\\nDomestic Peace.\\nAnd here you will remember what it is\\nimportant never to forget, that contentment\\nis largely independent of external circum-\\nstances or possessions. Perhaps it is found\\nin the lowly places more frequently than in\\nthe high places of the earth. If Robby\\nBurns genius was ever inspired it was\\nwhen he wrote, The Cotter s Saturday\\nNight that cottage scene beneath the\\nmilk-white thorn that scents the evening,\\ngale scene in humble life, the week s\\nlabor ended; the clustering children gath-\\nered at parental feet like young twigs under\\nthe outspread arms of the forest oak repose,\\nthat breath of heaven, falling upon the\\nhousehold; a devout calm which even\\npalaces might covet, smoothing out the\\nwrinkles of care.\\nO Scotia my dear, native soil\\nFor whom my warmest wish to Heaven is sent,\\nLong may thy hardy sons of rustic toil\\nBe blest with health, and peace, and sweet con-\\ntent\\nThe fact is, a cottage is a palace, a Bal-\\nmoral, an Osborne; the little walk up to its\\ndoorstep is a Champs Elyisses its windows\\nlook out upon celestial fields; its straw mat-\\ntress is soft as the down of angel s wing; its\\ncup of water is the nectar of the gods its\\nplain table, whose only luxury is a stale\\ncrust, is the banquet of kings; the open\\ncrannies do but let in an unearthly hght,\\nwhen the poor old cottage is the home of a\\nheart that is blest with sweet contentment.\\nI", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0377.jp2"}, "378": {"fulltext": "342\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nIt is not the beauty of the cage that makes\\nthe bird sing indeed I have known the bird\\nto pine and die in a painted cage.\\nIt is possible to be satisfied with far less\\nthan many people imagine. If you are poor,\\ntry and be content, and reflect that you are\\nfree from the troubles and worries and fears\\nthat are almost sure to go with wealth. Do\\nnot fly to the absurdity of supposing that\\nexternal things are all in all. It is the privi-\\nlege of the millionaire to carry a happy\\nheart; it is the privilege of Burns humble\\ncottager to have a heart no less happy. The\\nmistake has always been in supposing that a\\nman needs great possessions to help him to\\nbe contented. If his heart is right, he will\\nsing his song at any time and anywhere.\\nUnreasonable Envy.\\nNow, one main cause of discontenc is\\nfound in that envy at once unreasonable and\\nfoolish, which leads you to compare yourself\\nwith others, and always to your own dis-\\nparagement. You have enough to satisfy\\nevery lawful demand, but having made the\\npainful discovery that some one else is\\napparently better off than you are, you are\\nready to repine at the allotments of Provi-\\ndence. Everything in ordinary society goes\\nby comparisons, and we are always placing\\nourselves in competition with others, looking\\nat them with feelings of envy, thinking how\\nmuch more fortunate they are than we,\\nwishing for something they have which we\\nhave not and forgetting what we have by\\nthinking of what we might have, or would\\nlike to have. Brain compares itself with\\nbrain, dress with dress, social standing with\\nsocial standing, business with business and\\nthe one long, desperate, heart-burning strug-\\ngle with many is to get up where others are\\nand be accounted of equal consequence. It\\nis not difficult to be content with the food if\\nit is the best in the market it is easy to be\\ncontent with the raiment if it is j ust a little\\nfiner than any one else wears. We consent\\nto be contented and satisfied on condition\\nthat we have the best of everything.\\nIt is very much the spirit of the little girl,\\nwho, seeing another little girl in Sunday-\\nschool with a pretty sash on, prayed that\\nnight for such a sash as that, only just a\\nyard longer. Ah, that extra yard how the\\nidea of it runs through all human society.\\nThere is something wanting. The income\\nis less than another s the flowers in the\\nnext yard are finer the neighbor s children\\nattract more attention the horse is not so\\nshowy as he might be there ought to be\\nan improvement here and another there, so\\nthat you shall not be behind all others.\\nYes, something wanting Just another yard\\nCertainly, if a man can choose his own\\nportion, mark out his own life, have every-\\nthing to suit him, make out an unlimited\\norder and have it filled, why should he not\\nbe content But the correct idea is that we\\nshall be satisfied when we have but little.\\nThree Conditions.\\nSays an old author I think I could be\\ncontent on say, three conditions First, I\\nshould wish to select my food next, I\\nshould wish to have my pick of raiment,\\nand then I should want the assurance that\\nthe supplies would never fail. In short, it\\nwould not be difficult to walk by sight bv^t\\nas for walking by faith, living on cheap tare\\nand wearing threadbare raiment all this is\\nanother matter.\\nAnother, and one of the principal causes\\nof discontent, is immoderate desires and\\nexpectations. It is not that we are in\\nactual suffering and hardship, but having\\ncoveted and failed to gain, having sought\\nand fruitlessly, having built a castle and", "height": "3502", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0378.jp2"}, "379": {"fulltext": "343", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0379.jp2"}, "380": {"fulltext": "344\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nmade it of so unsubstantial a thing as air,\\nwe have on hand a general assortment of un-\\nrealized hopes, and are unable to be recon-\\nciled to a condition so different from and so\\nfar short of what we had anticipated. You\\nmay be better off than a thousand others and\\nbe well aware that you are, yet if you have\\nfallen back from your expectations and have\\nfailed to reach and gain the prize upon which\\nyou had set your ambition, ten chances to\\none if your life is not embittered and your\\nheart dissatisfied.\\nBlasted Hopes.\\nAnd so it comes about that a large part of\\nhuman unrest arises not from any actual loss,\\nbut from defeated desires, from wishes that\\nhave been blasted and have turned to ashes.\\nWe are overreaching we are too eager. We\\nmay be doing very well, but, with unhappy\\nperversity, we insist upon making ourselves\\nmiserable because we are not doing as well\\nas we thought we would. It is hard to be\\ncontented on bare food and raiment when\\nyou fondly thought you would have, in\\naddition, a mansion that would defy compe-\\ntition and a livery that would astonish the\\ntown. Well, if I must come down, I do not\\ntherefore need to give up if I cannot have\\nwhat I desired, let me be satisfied with what\\nI have. All this fever and complaint and\\ncold grumbling is largely from hopes and\\navaricious expectations unrealized.\\nSuffering there always is, but as matter of\\nfact those who complain the loudest are not\\nlikely to be deprived of the necessaries of\\nlife; The trouble is they are not making as\\nmuch money as they wished. They ex-\\npected a ship, three masts, full rigged, hull\\nloaded to the brim and drawing twenty feet\\nof water, and when it came, it was nothing\\nbut a shallow sloop, one mast flapping a\\ntattered sail, a cargo shrunk to moderate\\ndimensions, and they stood in disgust and\\nsaid, Of all things in the world, has it come\\nto this?\\nNow, we can do with much less and be\\nhappy on it, than clamorous greed would\\nhave us think. Give a man all his avarice\\ncraves, and what have you An Atlas\\ngroaning and chafing under the attempt to\\ncarry a world. If the angels of heaven ever\\nweep and the demons of hell ever laugh in\\nderision, is it not at a man carrying immor-\\ntality in his breast and with six feet of earth,\\ndoomed to darkness and dust, for his final\\npossession, yet nettled, unnerved, crushed,\\nwhimpering like a baby because he cannot\\ngrasp a kingdom\\nWhat Diogenes Said.\\nAlexander conquered a world and Dio-\\ngenes lived on the refuse of the market one\\nan emperor and the other a tramp and\\nwhen Alexander asked Diogenes what he\\nwanted, Nothing, said the old philosopher,\\nexcept that you should stand out of my\\nlight. And Diogenes was the greater man.\\nI am not saying \\\\vc should be satisfied\\nwith nothing, and never aspire, but only that\\nwe can be content on very little, on what is\\na long way this side of fortune, and that we\\nare not to whine like a .spoiled child because\\nwe cannot have every whim, every notion\\nand demand of pride gratified. Yet so it\\noften is. It is the want of that extra yard\\nwhich keeps us whimpering when we ought\\nto be praying.\\nI knew a man that had health and riches,\\nand several houses, all beautiful and ready\\nfurnished, and would often trouble himself\\nand family to be removing from one house\\nto another; and being asked by a friend\\nwhy he removed so often from one house to\\nanother, replied It was to find content in\\nsome of them. But his friend, knowing", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0380.jp2"}, "381": {"fulltext": "CONTENTMENT.\\n345\\nhis temper, toid him if he would find\\ncontent in any of his houses, he must leave\\nhimself behind him for content will never\\ndwell but in a meek and quiet soul. The\\ninscription upon the tombstone of the man\\nwho had endeavored to mend a tolerable\\nconstitution by taking physic I was well J\\nI wighed to be better; here I am, may\\ngenerally be applied with great justness to\\nthe distress of disappointed avarice and\\nambition.\\nUnhappy Faces.\\nWe sometimes go musing along the\\nstreet to see how few people there are\\nwhose faces look as though any joy had\\ncome down and sung in their souls. We\\ncan see lines of thought, and of care, and of\\nfear money lines, shrewd, grasping lines\\nbut how few happy lines The rarest feel-\\ning that ever lights the human face is the\\ncontentment of a loving soul. Sit for an\\nhour on the steps of the Exchange in Wall\\nStreet, and you will behold a drama which\\nis better than a thousand theatres, for all the\\nactors are real. There are a hundred suc-\\ncessful men where there is one contented\\nman. We can find a score of handsome\\nfaces where we can find one happy face.\\nAn eccentric wealthy gentleman stuck up\\na board in a field upon his estate, upon\\nwhich was painted the following I will\\ngive this field to any man contented. He\\nsoon had an applicant. Well, sir are you\\na contented man? Yes, sir; very.\\nThen what do you want of my field?\\nThe apphcant did not stop to reply.\\nIt is one property which, they say, is\\nrequired of those that seek the philosopher s\\nstone, that they must not do it with any\\ncovetous desire to be rich, for otherwise\\nthey shall never find it. But most true it is,\\nthat whosoever would have this jewel of\\ncontentment, (which turns all into gold, yea,\\nwant into wealth,) must come with minds\\ndivested of all ambitious and covetous\\nthoughts, else are they never likely to\\nobtain it.\\nThe foundation of content must be laid in.\\na man s own mind; and he who has so littld\\nknowledge of human nature as to seek hap-\\npiness by changing anything but his own\\ndisposition, will waste his life in fruitless\\nefforts, and multiply the griefs which he\\npurposes to remove. No man can tell\\nwhether he is rich or poor by turning to his\\nledger. It is the heart that makes a man\\nrich. He is rich or poor according to what\\nhe is, not according to what he has.\\nGrowth of Contentment.\\nO years gone down into the past\\nWhat pleasant memories come to me\\nOf your untroubled days of peace,\\nAnd hours of almost ecstasy\\nYet would I have no moon stand still,\\nWhere life s most pleasant valleys lie\\nNor wheel the planet of the day\\nBack on his pathway through the sky.\\nFor though, when youthful pleasures died,\\nMy youth itself went with them, too\\nTo-day, aye even this very hour,\\nIs the best hour I ever knew.\\nNot that my Father gives to me\\nMore blessings than in days gone by,\\nDropping in my uplifted hands\\nAll things for which I blindly cry\\nBut that His plans and purposes\\nHave grown to me less strange and dim\\nAnd where I cannot understand,\\nI trust the issues unto Him.\\nAnd spite of many broken dreams.\\nThis have I truly learned to say\\nPrayers which I thought unanswered once\\nWere answered in God s own best way.\\nAnd though some hopes I cherished once.\\nPerished untimely in their birth,\\nYet have I been beloved and blest\\nBeyond the measure of my worth.\\nPhcebe Carey.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0381.jp2"}, "382": {"fulltext": "346\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nI Can Laugh and Sing.\\nEven I but I can laugh and sing,\\nThough fettered and confined\\nMy mind I may to fortune bring,\\nNot fortune to my mind.\\nHow seldom is our good enjoyed.\\nOur ill how hardly borne,\\nWhen all our fancies are employed.\\nTo kick against the thorn\\nBut, sure, ourselves aright to see\\nTrue wisdom well may bear\\nTis nobly great to dare to be\\nNo greater than we are.\\nSamuEI, Weslbt, Jil\\nA Common Blessing.\\nWhate er the passion, knowledge, fame, or pelf,\\nNot one will change his neighbor with himself.\\nThe learn d is happy nature to explore.\\nThe fool is happy that he knows no more;\\nThe rich is happy in the plenty given.\\nThe poor contents him with the care of Heave\\nSee the blind beggar dance, the cripple sing.\\nThe sot a hero, lunatic a king,\\nThe starving chemist in his golden views\\nSupremely blest, the poet in his muse.\\nAlexander Pope.\\nI once met with a worthy citizen about\\n\u00c2\u00abixty years of age, who had just retired from\\nbusiness. He was in good health and high\\nspirits, but he had been engaged in manu-\\nfacturing pursuits for something hke forty\\nyears, had earned a pecuniary independence,\\nand to use his own language, was satisfied.\\nIn brief, he had enough, more than sufficient\\nto meet his ordinary wants, and he deemed\\nit the poHcy of wisdom to retire while he\\ncould do so with safety, and be contented\\nwith a reasonable fortune.\\nIt would be well for many who are at this\\nmoment engaged in the active and perilous\\npursuits of commerce and trade, if they could\\nprofit by this example. The great multitude\\nare not satisfied with a moderate fortune.\\nThey become avaricious to a certain extent,\\nand hence they struggle for more, even after\\nthey have accumulated a sufficiency, and at\\nthe risk very often of health and strength,\\nand even life itself.\\nThey are greedy and grasping, and if\\nengaged in a profitable business, they are\\nunwilling to abandon such a source of income-\\nto other hands, either forgetful of the short\\ntenure of human life, unmindful of their own\\nincreasing infirmities, or so absorbed in accu-\\nmulation, that they have no time to think\\neither of health here, or of destiny hereafter.\\nThey thus go on from day to day and from\\nyear to year, until at last they^are paralyzed\\nby time or disease, and are hurried into\\nanother world, before, as they erroneously\\nsupposed, they had half finished their work\\nin this.\\nThey are Self-Deceived,\\nThis is no fancy sketch. Men are apt to\\nbecome so engrossed by the pursuit of\\nwealth, the accumulation of property, or the\\nacquisition of power, as to prove unmindful\\nof all higher and more thoughtful considera-\\ntions. They deceive themselves in many\\nrespects. They persuade themselves that\\nthey are young when they are old, that they\\nare strong when they are weak, that they are\\nadvancing physically and mentally when in\\nfact they are declining.\\nHow frequently does death surprise even\\nthe affluent, before they have made provision\\nfor the distribution of their property They\\ncannot bring themselves to part with their\\nearnings, even on paper, and thus postpone\\nfrom time to time, the important duty of\\napportioning their estates by will, to heirs,\\nfriends, and benevolent institutions. Let any\\none mix and mingle in a thoughtful and in-\\nquiring spirit in the marts of trade, and watch\\nclosely and narrowly, the figures and the\\nfeatures of the many who day by day devote", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0382.jp2"}, "383": {"fulltext": "CONTENTMENT.\\n347\\nall their energies to the various objects of\\nenterprise, speculation, and of money-getting,\\nand the discovery will then be made, that\\nnot a few of those who are straining and\\nstriving, are, in the ordinary course of nature,\\nbut a year or two distant from the grave.\\nThey cannot be contented. They are not,\\nand never will be satisfied. They can never\\nsecure enough. More a little more is\\nthe great object of their toil, and as they pile\\nup dollar upon dollar in their coffers, they\\ninwardly promise themselves that they will\\nsoon be in a condition of positive independ-\\nence, when they will gracefully retire. But\\nyear follows year, and they are still a busy\\nas ever, or their places are vacant, and they\\nhave departed to the land of spirits\\nIt is, indeed, more difficult to be contented\\nthan the hasty and inconsiderate are apt to\\nimagine. With our means, too, our wants\\nalmost invariably increase, and thus, what\\nmight have suited at one period of life, will\\nnot answer at another. It should be remem-\\nbered, moreover, that almost every business\\npursuit is chequered with light and shadow,\\nwith adversity and prosperity; and that,\\ntherefore, all who persist, after they have\\nsecured enough, encounter the risk of losing\\ntheir dearly-prized earnings, and of thus\\noverleaping the object of their ambition,\\nand perilling the very security and independ-\\nence which they regard as so desirable.\\nHence, when age begins to show itself,\\nwhen the physical man begins to fail, when\\nthe mind reels and faints under the ordinary\\nefforts and excitements, it is the policy of\\nprudence to be admonished, and if in a con-\\ndition so to do, to retire quietly from the\\nexciting arenas of commerce and of trade.\\nBetter thus to be contented and satisfied\\nthan to toil on under the double risk of\\nlosing fortune as well as health, of encoun-\\ntering bankruptcy as well as shortening life.\\nThe human machine, it should be remem-\\nbered, is certain to give out after a specified\\namount of effort, use, and exhaustion. This\\nis seen every day, and almost every hour.\\nChanges are constantly taking place around\\nand about us. We meet, in our daily walks,\\nfriends, neighbors and acquaintances, bent,\\nfeeble and failing, who but a year or two\\nago were apparently firm, vigorous and\\nactive. But nature has assumed her right,\\nand the result is distinct and palpable.\\nAnd so it must be. sooner or later, with\\nall of us. How much wiser then, how much\\nmore philosophic, to measure and judge our-\\nselves according to the history of others, and\\nwhen we are reminded that we have played\\nout our part, that we are descending the hill\\nof life, to prepare ourselves accordingly, and\\nto relax somewhat of the wear and tear of\\nbody and mind that are so apt to weaken,\\nparalyze and destroy. And if, moreover, we\\nhave accumulated enough if we have pros-\\npered and attained an independent pecuniary\\nposition why should we not be satisfied,\\nand, in a spirit of gratitude to Providence,\\nand of j ustice to our fellow man, retire and\\nleave the field to others\\nI", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0383.jp2"}, "384": {"fulltext": "HEROIC ENDURANCE.\\n348", "height": "3504", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0384.jp2"}, "385": {"fulltext": "CHAPTER XXII.\\nENDURANCE-\\nOU will find much in your life to\\ntry you and show the kind\\nof material of which you are\\nmade. There is a difference\\nbetween steel and wood the\\nwooden blade is bent and\\nbroken, the steel cuts through and does\\nits work. One of the jokes of our Civil\\nWar was the deception practised on the\\narmy of the Potomac by the Confederates\\nplacing wooden guns on their earthworks at\\nManassas in Virginia. The guns were\\npainted, and from a distance had all the\\nappearance of being real. It was supposed\\nthat cannon of soHd iron were mounted and\\nveady for action, and the Northern army\\nwas held back, and hesitated to make an\\nadvance. Wooden guns would have fired\\nno solid balls. They would have exploded\\nand would have been shattered into ten\\nthousand fragments. It will make a vast\\ndifference whether you are a mere wooden\\nman, or have some iron in your composition.\\nStanding on the shore of the ocean, you\\nsee the wild, disordered billows rolling in.\\nThey are driven by the storm. They are\\nhurled upon the beach and, with nothing to\\noppose them, they fling up the sand, rush\\ninto the shallows and sport themselves in\\nglee. Walk along the shore until you come\\nto that solid rock, towering aloft in rugged\\ngrandeur, defying the onslaught of waves\\nand tempests, breasting the charges of the\\nsea, and standing as calmly as it does in\\nsunshine. In the clefts of that rock you\\ncan take shelter on its calm summit you\\ncould build your house, and ages from now\\nit would stand as securely as it does to-day.\\nHere is a picture of endurance. Here is an\\nillustration of the granite which belongs to\\nevery true character. Here is a reminder of\\nthat force and resistance by which troubles\\nare overcome, outward opposition is defeated,\\nand you prove yourself to be the master of\\nthe situation.\\nThe Noblest Character.\\nDo not be a weak, good-for-nothing reed\\nthat a child s foot might crush. Do not be\\na frail flower that every little blast beats\\ndown to the earth. Do not be a puny twig\\nthat is bent by every wind. Have some-\\nthing of the oak in you the sturdy, grand,\\nbrawny oak that storms do not bend. Weak\\npeople are not attractive they are not eflfi\\ncient or useful like the frail vine, they must\\nhave something stronger to cling to the}\\nmust be pitied and babied they amount to\\nvery little, and it is only by courtesy that\\nthey may receive any consideration at all.\\nThere is a grand, heroic character that is\\nsuperbly competent to take care of itself\\nDo you possess it You are not asking\\nfavors, nor fawning at the feet of others, nor\\nwhimpering when things go wrong, nor ever-\\nlastingly whining over trifling misfortunes,\\nnor wishing you were dead.\\nThe Spartan children were not under\\ntutors purchased or hired with money, nor\\nwere the parents at liberty to educate them\\nas they pleased but as soon as they were\\nseven years old Lycurgus ordered them tc\\n349", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0385.jp2"}, "386": {"fulltext": "350\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nbe enrolled in companies, where they were\\nall kept under the same order and discipline,\\nand had their exercises and recreations in\\ncommon. He who showed the best con-\\nduct and courage among them was made\\ncaptain of^ the company. The i^est kept\\ntheir eyes upon him, obeyed his orders and\\nbore with patience the punishment he in-\\nflicted; so that their whole education was\\nan exercise of obedience.\\nAs for learning, they had just what was\\nabsolutely necessary. All the rest of their\\neducation was calculated to make them sub-\\nject to command, to endure labor, to fight\\nand conquer. They added, therefore, to\\ntheir discipline, as they advanced in age\\ncutting their hair very close, making them\\ngo barefoot, and play, for the most part,\\nquite naked. At twelve years of age their\\nunder garment was taken away, and but one\\nupper one a year allowed them. Hence\\nthey were necessarily dirty in their persons,\\nand not indulged the great favor of baths\\nand oils, except on some particular days of\\nthe year. They slept in companies, on beds\\nmade of the tops of reeds, which they\\ngathered with their own hands, without\\nknives, and brought from the banks of the\\nEurotas. In winter they were permitted to\\nadd a little thistle-down, as that seemed to\\nhave some warmth in it. They were taught\\nthe sternest endurance.\\nAll Evils Can Be Borne.\\nHow much the heart may bear, and yet not break\\nHow much the flesh may suffer, and not die\\nI question much if any pain or ache\\nOf soul or body brings our end more nigh.\\nDeath chooses his own time till that is worn,\\nAll evils may be borne.\\nWe shrink and shudder at the surgeon s knife\\nEach nerve recoiling from the cruel steel,\\nWhose edge seems searching for the quivering life\\nYet to our sense the bitter pangs reveal\\nThat still, although the trembling flesh be torn,\\nThis, also, can be borne.\\nWe see a sorrow rising in our way,\\nAnd try to flee from the approaching ill\\nWe seek some small escape we weep and pray\\nBut when the blow falls, then our hearts are still.\\nNot that the pain is of its sharpness shorn,\\nBut that it can be borne.\\nWe wind our life about another life\\nWe hold it closer, dearer than our own\\nAnon it faints and falls in deadly strife,\\nLeaving us stunned, and stricken, and alone\\nBut ah we do not die with those we mourn\\nThis, also, can be borne.\\nBehold, we livt; through all things famine, thirst.\\nBereavement, pain, all grief and misery,\\nAll woe and sorrow life inflicts its worst\\nOn soul and body but we cannot die.\\nThough we be sick, and tired, and faint, and worn\\nL,o all things can be borne.\\nElizabeth Akers Ai.lb;n.\\nThey were Taught at Hotne.\\nAmong the principal objects of the insti-\\ntutions of Lycurgus, the education of the\\nyouth of the republic was that on which the\\nlegislator had bestowed the most particular\\nattention. Children, after they had attained\\nthe age of seven, were no longer the charge\\nof their parents, but of the State. Before\\nthat period they were taught at home the\\ngreat lessons of obedience and frugality.\\nAfterward, under public masters, they were\\ntaught to despise equally danger and pain.\\nTo shrink under the stroke of punishment\\nwas a sufficient reason for having that pun-\\nishment redoubled. Their very sports and\\namusements were such as are fitted to\\npromote a strength of constitution and vigor\\nand agility of body.\\nThe athletic exercises were prescribed\\nalike for both sexes, as the bodily vigor of\\nthe mother is essential to that of her off-\\nspring. To run, to swim, to wrestle, to\\nhunt, were the constant exercise of the\\nI", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0386.jp2"}, "387": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0387.jp2"}, "388": {"fulltext": "352\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nyouth. With regard to the culture of the\\nmind, the Spartan discipline admitted none\\nof those studies which tend to refine or\\nembellish the understanding. But the duties\\nif religion, the inviolable bond of a promise,\\nhe sacred obligation of an oath, the respect\\ndue to parents, the reverence for old age, the\\nstrictest obedience to the laws, and, above\\nill, the love of their country, the noble\\ndame of patriotism, were early and assidu-\\nously inculcated. This rigid training made\\nheroes of those who, otherwise, would have\\nbeen weaklings, and they were shming\\nexamples of courage and endurance.\\nThere is an old proverb that says by\\nbravely enduring, an evil which cannot be\\navoided is overcome. An old author says,\\nThe greater the difficulty, the more glory\\nin surmounting it. Skilful pilots gain their\\nreputation from storms and tempests.\\nLouis Kossuth, the brightest mind and most\\nglorious martyr of Hungary, says, The\\npalm-tree grows best beneath a ponderous\\nweight, and even so the character of man.\\nThe petty pangs of small daily cares have\\noften bent the character of men, but great\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2nisfortunes seldom.\\nWilling Laborers,\\nSome men are willing to throw themselves\\naway in the pursuit of a great object. The\\nearly martyrs, the early discoverers, the early\\ninventors, the pioneers of civilization all\\nvvho work for truth, for religion, for patriot-\\nism are the forlorn hope of humanity.\\nThey live and labor and die without any\\nhope of personal reward. It is enough for\\nthem to know their work, and by the exer-\\ncise of moral power to do it.\\nThe man jf energy and genius is guided\\noy his apprehension of the widest and high-\\nest tendencies. He may be thwarted and\\ndiscouraged. Difficulties may surround\\nhim. But he is borne up by invincible\\ncourage; and if he dies, he leaves behind\\nhim a name which every man venerates.\\nDeath has fructified his life, and made it\\nmore fruitful to others. When God per-\\nmits His ministers to die for the gospel,\\nsaid Brousson, they preach louder from\\ntheir graves than they did during their\\nlives. What we sow, said Jeremy Tay-\\nlor, in the minutes and spare portions of a\\nfew years grows up to crowns and sceptres\\nin a happy and glorious eternity.\\nBearing all Things.\\nAre not difficulty and suffering necessary\\nto evoke the highest forms of character,\\nenergy and genius? Effort and endurance,\\nstriving and submitting, energy and patience,\\nenter into every destiny. There is a virtue\\nin passive endurance which is often greater\\nthan the glory of success. It bears, it suf-\\nfers, it endures and still it hopes. It meets\\ndifficulties with a smile, and strives to stand\\nerect beneath the heaviest burdens. Suffer-\\ning, patiently and enduringly borne, is one\\nof the noblest attributes of man. There is\\nsomething so noble in the quality as to lift\\nit into the highest regions of heroism. It\\nwas a saying of Milton, Who best can suf-\\nfer, best can do.\\nIt is a mistake to suppose that there is\\never an age when there is not a demand for\\nthe heroic virtue, or that the martyr-ages,\\nor the ages of death struggle with tyranny,\\nalone call for the practice of this virtue.\\nTo withstand the every-day course of a\\ngeneration which has lost the sense of man s\\nhigh destiny, and allowed pleasure to usurp\\nthe place of duty, may demand as much real\\nheroism as to confront tyrant power, or to\\nface the axe of the executioner.\\nEven in war itself endurance is as high a\\nvirtue as courage; and now that war has", "height": "3497", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0388.jp2"}, "389": {"fulltext": "ENDURANCE.\\n353\\nbecome scientific, endurance has taken the\\nhigher position. The well-discipHned soldier\\nmust stand erect in the place that has been\\nassigned to him. Be steady, men! is the\\norder. He braves danger without moving\\nwhile bullets are dealing death around him.\\nWhen he advances he has still to endure.\\nHe must not fire until the word of command\\nis given. And then the charge comes. But\\nit is not merely in action that endurance is\\nhighest. It is in retreat rendered necessary\\nby defeat. Viewed in this light, the retreat\\nof Xenophon s Ten Thousand outshines the\\nconquests of Alexander; and the retreat of\\nSir John Moore to Corunna was as great as\\nthe victories of Wellington.\\nThe Brave Three Hundred.\\nWhen Xerxes endeavored to conquer\\nGreece, Leonidas, with three hundred men,\\nmarched to the Pass of Thermopylae, to\\nresist the immense Persian army. A fierce\\ncombat ensued great numbers of the inva-\\nders were killed. Leonidas and the little\\nband of heroes were destroyed, but Greece\\nwas saved.\\nNot less brave than Leonidas was Judas\\nMaccabeus, the hammerer. With his for-\\nlorn hope of eight hundred men he resisted\\nthe attack of twenty thousand Syrians, who\\nwere overrunning the Holy Land. Judas\\ntook his last stand at Eleasah. His follow-\\ners would fain have persuaded him to retreat.\\nGod forbid, he answered, that I should\\nflee away before them. If our time be come,\\nlet us die manfully for our brethren let us\\nnot stain our honor. The battle was heavy\\nand fierce Judas and his men fought vali-\\nantly, and were killed to the last man, with\\ntheir faces to the foe. They did not die in\\nvain. The Jews took heart they beat back\\nthe invaders the Temple was rebuilt and\\nJudea again became the most prosperous\\n23\\ncountry in the East. It lived, but its de-\\nliverer was dead.\\nThe Romans also knew the value of hero-\\nism and devotion on behalf of their country.\\nBut let us come to more modern times.\\nLittle countries, of comparatively small\\npopulations, have contrived to maintain and\\npreserve their liberties in spite of enormous\\ndiiificulties. It is not the size of a country,\\nbut the character of its people, that gives it\\nsterling value. We find men constantly call-\\ning for liberty, but who do nothing to de-\\nserve it. They remain inert, lazy, and selfish.\\nThere is a so-called patriotism that has no\\nmore dignity in it than the howling of\\nwolves. True patriotism is of another sort\\nIt is based on honesty, truthfulness, gener-\\nosity, self-sacrifice, and genuine love of free-\\ndom.\\nA Refuge for the Persecuted.\\nLook, for instance, at the little Republic\\nof Switzerland, which has been hemmed in\\nby tyrannical governments for hundreds of\\nyears. But the people are brave and frugal,\\nhonest and self-helping. They would have\\nno master, but governed themselves. They\\nelected their representatives, as at Apenzell,\\nby show of hands in the public market-\\nplaces. They proclaimed liberty of con-\\nscience and Switzerland, like England and\\nAmerica, has always been the refuge of the\\npersecuted for conscience sake.\\nIt was not without severe struggles that\\nSwitzerland conquered its independence\\nThe leaders of these brave men have ofter\\nsacrificed themselves for the good of their\\ncountry. Take, for instance, the example of\\nArnold von Winkelried. In 148 1 the Aus-\\ntrians invaded Switzerland, and a compara-\\ntively small number of men determined to\\nresist them. Near the little town of Sem-\\npach the Austrians were observed advancing", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0389.jp2"}, "390": {"fulltext": "854\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nin a solid compact body, presenting an\\nunbroken line of spears. The Swiss met\\nthem, but their spears were shorter, and\\nbeing much fewer in number, they were\\ncompelled to give way.\\nObserving this, Arnold von Winkelried,\\nseeing that all the efforts of the Swiss to\\nbreak the ranks of their enemies had failed,\\nexclaimed to his countrymen, I will open a\\npath to freedom Protect, dear comrades,\\nmy wife and children He rushed for-\\nward, and, gathering in his arms as many\\nspears as he could grasp, he buried them in\\nhis bosom. He fell, but a gap was made,\\nand the Swiss rushed in and achieved an\\nexceeding great victory. Arnold von Win-\\nkelried died, but saved his country. The\\nlittle mountain republic preserved its liberty.\\nThe battle took place on the 9th of July,\\nand to this day the people of the country\\nassemble to celebrate their deliverance from\\nthe Austrians, through the self-sacrifice of\\ntheir leader.\\nCourage of Women.\\nBut Swiss women can be as brave as\\nSwiss men. Women pass through moral\\nand physical danger with a courage that is\\nequal to that of the bravest. They are pre-\\neminent in steady endurance and they are\\nsometimes equal to men in a becoming valor\\nto meet the peril which is sudden and sharp.\\nThe saying is, that the brave are the sons\\nand daughters of the brave simply because\\nthey are brought up by the brave, and are\\ninfected by their example.\\nIn 1622, nearly two hundred years after\\nthe battle of Sempach, the Emperor of\\nAustria desired to make himself master of\\nthe Orisons, in order to extinguish the Pro-\\ntestant religion and banish its ministers. His\\narmy first appeared in the valley of the\\nFratigau. The valley is shut in by high\\nmountains. It is rich in pasturage, and is\\nstill famous for its large cattle. The men\\nwere high up on the hills, driving and watch-\\ning their herds. Only the women remained\\nand so soon as they heard of the approach\\nof the Austrians, between Klosters and\\nLandquart, they took up their husbands\\narms pikes and scythes and pitchforks\\nand rushed out to meet them.\\nHonors to the Brave.\\nThere are passes in Switzerland where a\\nfew well-armed men or women can beat back\\na thousand. With the help of stones show-\\nered down ftom the hills upon the enemy,\\nthe women prevailed. The Austrians were\\ndriven back. Of course, the men were as\\nbrave as the women. Not long after, the\\ncastle of Castel, opposite Fideris, was\\nstormed and taken by the peasants, armed\\nonly with sticks On account of the gal-\\nlant defence of the women, it continues to\\nbe a standing rule in the valley that the\\nwomen go first to the Communion, and the\\nmen follow.\\nSuch are the heroic men and women\\nwhom the Swiss venerate Tell, the daunt-\\nless cross-bowman, and Winkelried, the\\nspearman. Though the former is probably\\ntraditional, the latter is a man of history.\\nThe house in which he lived is still pointed\\nout at Stanz, in Unterwalden his coat of\\nmail is still in the Rathhaus and a statue is\\nerected to him in the market-place, with the\\nsheaf of spears in his arms.\\nSome five centuries ago England suffered\\na grievous defeat in the North, which after-\\nward proved to be one of her greatest bless-\\nings. Scotland was poor, consisting prin-\\ncipally of mountains and moors. It did not\\ncontain a fourth of the present population of\\nLondon. The people were widely scattered.\\nThe country lay close to England, and was", "height": "3475", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0390.jp2"}, "391": {"fulltext": "ENDURANCE.\\n355\\nalways open to invasion. It was not, like\\nIreland, protected by a wide and deep sea-\\nmoat. Besides, it was not a united nation,\\nnor were its people of the same race. On\\nthe north and west were the Celts or High-\\nlanders on the south and east were the\\ndescendants of the Saxons, Anghans and\\nNorthmen. The Highland clans warred\\nagainst each other. They gave no help to\\nthe Lowlanders in their wars for freedom.\\nRobert Bruce was nearly killed by the Mac-\\ndougals in his flight through Lome.\\nWallace preceded Bruce. The Lowland\\ncountry was conquered by Edward I. All\\nits strong places were in the hands of the\\nEnglish. Wallace endeavored to rouse the\\nspirit of patriotism throughout the western\\ncounties. Though a man of great personal\\nprowess, he was not a great warrior. He\\nwas never able to raise a sufficient number\\nof men to fight a pitched battle. He was\\ndefeated at Falkirk. Indeed, he was a man\\nwho failed. He was the forlorn hope of\\nScotland at that time.\\nA Martyr to Liberty.\\nYet his faith in the future of his country\\nnourished the national spirit more than even\\nthe victories of his successor, Robert Bruce.\\nAt last Wallace was betrayed, and delivered\\nover to the English. He was taken to\\nLondon, and, on the eve of St. Bartholomew,\\n1305, he was dragged on a sledge from the\\nTower to Smithfield, where he was hanged,\\nand quartered while still living. Thus died\\nthe martyr for freedom. He did not live in\\nvain. He inspired his country with the love\\nof liberty and the time came when they\\ncould follow his example with success.\\nRobert Bruce was the descendant of a\\nNorman. He was half an EngHshman and\\nhalf a Scotchman and, by his mother s\\nside, he was a claimant to the Scottish crown.\\nAfter many daring adventures and rude\\nperils borne up throughout by strong per-\\nsevering conscience and an ardent love of\\nliberty Bruce was able to get together a\\npatriotic army to meet the English at Ban-\\nnockburn in 13 14. Before the battle began\\nthe Scottish army knelt down in prayer.\\nEdward II. was looking on. He turned to\\nhis favorite knight and said, Argentine, the\\nrebels yield They beg for mercy They\\ndo, my liege, was the reply but net from\\nyou. The battle ended, not only in a vic-\\ntory, but in a rout.\\nEndurance for Principle.\\nThe English ambassadors at the Papal\\nCourt induced John XXII. to excommuni-\\ncate Robert Bruce, and to lay his kingdom\\nunder an ecclesiastical ban. The interdict\\nwas met by a heroic Parliament held at\\nArbroath in 1320. Eight earls and twenty-\\none nobles appended their names to a letter\\nfrom the parliament to the Pope, which, for\\nthe principle it asserted, was worth any docu-\\nment in European history.\\nIt asked the Pope to require the English\\nking to respect the independence of Scotland,\\nand to mind his own affairs. So long as a\\nhundred of us are left alive, say the signa-\\ntories, we will never in any degree be sub-\\njected to the English. It is not for glory,\\nriches, or honors that we fight, but for\\nliberty alone, which no good man loses but\\nwith his life.\\nAlthough numerous wars followed, and\\nalthough attempts were made by the stronger\\nnation to force new forms of religion upon the\\nweaker nation, the result was always the\\nsame. The history of Scotland has been a\\nperpetual protest against despotism. Its\\nlesson is first, the power of individualism\\nand latterly, that of the rights of conscience.\\nThere was another great defeat which", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0391.jp2"}, "392": {"fulltext": "356\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nEngland sustained about the same time,\\nwhich, though regarded as deplorable, yet\\nturned out to be as great a blessing as that\\nof Bannockburn. It was at the siege of\\nOrleans, which, Dr. Arnold says, was one\\nof the turning-points in the history of\\nnations. The following are Dr. Arnold s\\nwords\\nThe siege of Orleans is one of the turn-\\ning-points in the history of nations. Had\\nthe English dominion in France been estab-\\nlished, no man can tell what might have\\nbeen the consequence to England, which\\nwould probably have become an appendage\\nto France. So little does the prosperity of\\nthe people depend upon success in war, that\\ntwo of the greatest defeats we ever had have\\nbeen two of our greatest blessings Orleans\\nand Bannockburn. It is curious, too, that in\\nEdward II. s reign the victory over the Irish\\nat Athunree proved our curse, as our defeat\\nby the Scots turned out a blessing. Had\\nthe Irish remained independent, they might\\nafterward have been united to us, as Scot-\\nland was and had Scotland been reduced\\nto subjection, it would have been another\\ncurse to us like Ireland.\\nThe Famous Peasant Girl.\\nThe English were overrunning France.\\nThey had won many battles they had\\nentered Paris, and were besieging Orleans.\\nFrance was in a dismal condition. The\\nprincipal nobles abandoned the king (Charles\\nVII.), and each endeavored to set up a petty\\nsovereignty of his own. The towns gave\\nthemselves up without making any resist-\\nance. The taxes were levied by force, and\\neven the king had scarcely the means to live\\nupon, still less to maintain his army. The\\npeople lost faith in both king and nobles,\\nand longed that God might work some\\nmeans of deliverance for their country.\\nStrange how small a circumstance may\\nalter the destiny of a nation. It was a\\nwoman a country girl, who spinned and\\nknitted at home, and looked after the cattle\\nout of doors who came to the help of\\nFrance. Joan of Arc was born at the village\\nof Domremy, in Lorraine. She was simple,\\nvirtuous, and religious. Being of a nervous\\ntemperament, in her exalted state she dreamed\\ndreams, and heard solemn words spoken to\\nher. She was told to go to the help of the\\nKing of France, and was assurred that\\nshe would restore his kingdom to him.\\nThought She Was Mad.\\nCaptain Baudricourt, who was informed of\\nher wishes, thought at first that she was mad.\\nAt last he was so touched by her earnestness\\nthat he offered to furnish her with an equip-\\nment of armed men, and to conduct her to\\nthe king. She travelled through the 150\\nmiles of country occupied by the English\\nand at length reached the king and court at\\nChin on in safety.\\nThe king was only too glad to have any\\nmeans of help, no matter from what quarter\\nit came. The bishops and priests thought\\nher a witch and inspired by the devil. Never-\\ntheless, the king sent her on to Orleans, and\\nshe reached the besieged city. The English\\nwere already beginning to be distressed.\\nThey had sat down before Orleans during\\nthe winter, and their forces were fast melting\\naway.\\nAfter the death of the Earl of Salisbury,\\nmany of the men-atarms whom he had\\nenlisted separated from the camp. The\\nBurgundians, who were in league with the\\nEnglish, were recalled by their duke. Only\\nabout 2000 or 3000 English troops remained,\\nand these were distributed among a dozen\\nbastilles, between which there was no con-\\nnection. On reading, says Michelet,", "height": "3496", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0392.jp2"}, "393": {"fulltext": "JOAX OF ARC BEFORE KIXG CHARLES VII.\\n357", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0393.jp2"}, "394": {"fulltext": "358\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nthe formidable list of captains who threw\\nthemselves into the city with their forces,\\nthe deliverance of Orleans does not seem so\\nmiraculous after all.\\nJoan of Arc headed the attack upon the\\nEnglish in the bastilles. They were driven\\nout, though in storming the last (the Toiir-\\nnelles) the Maid was wounded. But she\\nwas not satisfied with raising the siege of\\nOrleans. The English must be driven out\\nof the country. The army, under her direc-\\ntion, followed the enemy to Patay, where\\nthey were again defeated. Then followed\\nthe crowning of Charles VII. at Rheims, as\\nshe had predicted. The originality of Joan\\nof Arc, says Michelet, the secret of her\\nsuccess, was not her courage or her visions,\\nbut her good sense. By taking Charles VII.\\nstraight to Rheims, and having him crowned,\\nshe gained over the English the decision of\\nhis coronation.\\nMade a Prisoner.\\nShe had done and finished what she had\\nintended to do; she now desired to return\\nhome to her parents, and to her flocks and\\nherds. But the king refused his consent.\\nHe had seen how Joan had brought back\\nsuccess to the ranks of the French army.\\nHe therefore desired her presence among\\nthe soldiers. From this time she had not\\nthe same confidence in herself; she felt\\nirresolute and restless, and though she con-\\ntinued fighting, it was without any decisive\\nresults.\\nThe English and Burgundians, having\\nagain coalesced, laid siege to Compiegne,\\non the river Oise. The citizens had already\\ndeclared themselves in favor of Charles VII.,\\nand Joan at once threw herself into the\\nplace. On the same day she headed a\\nsortie, and had nearly surprised the besiegers,\\nbut she was driven back to the city gates.\\nwhere she was surrounded by the French\\n(Burgundians), dragged from her horse, and\\nmade prisoner. She was given by her coun-\\ntrymen to the English, who handed her\\nover to the Inquisition at Rouen to be\\njudged. The Vicar presided, and was\\nassisted by the Bishop of Beauvais, the\\nBishop of Lisieux, and other French priests.\\nEstevet, one of the Canons of Beauvais, was\\nappointed the promoter of the prosecution.\\nCondemned to be Burned Alive.\\nThe sovereign, Charles VII, who owed\\nhis throne to the bravery of the young\\nenthusiast, took no steps whatever for her\\ndeliverance. The Sorbonne, the great theo-\\nlogical tribunal, was appealed to, and decided\\nthat this girl was wholly the devil s, and\\nought to be treated accordingly. The French\\nBurgundians did not protest against the\\nhideous punishment she was about to re-\\nceive. The usual process in those days was\\nto burn all witches and sorcerers possessed\\nby the devil and Joan of Arc was accord-\\ningly condemned to be burned alive. Her\\nmartyrdom took place at Rouen, on the site\\nnow known as the Place de la Pucelle, not\\nfar from the Quai de Havre, where a statue\\nhas been erected to her memory.\\nThere have been martyrs, says Michelet;\\nhistory shows us numberless ones, more or\\nless pure, more or less glorious. Pride has\\nhad its martyrs, so have hate and the spirit\\nof controversy. No age has been without\\nmartyrs militant, who, no doubt, died with a\\ngood grace when they could no longer kill.\\nSuch fancies are irrelevant to our subject.\\nThe sainted girl is not of them; she had a\\nsign of her own goodness, charity, sweet-\\nness of soul. She had the sweetness of the\\nancient martyrs, but with a difference. The\\nfirst Christians remained pure only by shun-\\nning action, by sparing themselves the strug-", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0394.jp2"}, "395": {"fulltext": "ENDURANCE.\\n359\\ngles and trials of the world. Joan was gentle\\nin the roughest struggle good among the\\nbad; pacific in war itself; she bore into war\\nthe Spirit of God.\\nThe French people have not forgotten\\nJoan of Arc. Many statues have been\\nerected to her memory. She has been an\\nobject of veneration to generation after gener-\\nation of French soldiers. When a regiment\\nmarches through Domremy the soldiers\\nalways halt and present arms in honor of\\nher birthplace. It is touching to hear of\\nthe custom having survived so long, and the\\nmemory of the maiden heroine being still\\nkept green by the country she served so\\nfaithfully.\\nCorruption and Frivolity.\\nLet us go back to some of the great hero-\\nmartyrs of Italy, to Arnold of Brescia, Dante\\nand Savonarola. Shortly after the fall of the\\nRoman Empire the baser influences of\\nhuman nature again obtained the ascend-\\nency. The Church could not prevail against\\nthem. Indeed, the Church followed them.\\nSt. Bernard of Clairvaux stigmatized the\\nvices of the Romans in these biting words\\nWho is ignorant of their vanity and arro-\\ngance? A nation nursed in sedition, un-\\ntractable and scorning to obey unless they\\nare too feeble to resist. Dexterous in mis-\\nchief, they have never learned the science of\\ndoing good. Adulation and calumny, per-\\nfidy and treason, are the familiar acts of their\\npolicy.\\nCorruption and frivolity in high places\\nnever fail to exert a pernicious influence on\\nthe condition of society. They extend to\\nthe lower classes, when all become alike\\nprofligate. Italy was abandoned to luxury\\nand frivolity by the higher classes, while\\npoverty, misery and vice pervaded the lower.\\nThe churchmen were no better than the\\nmultitude. Thus a once brave and vigorous\\npeople were on the verge of moral destruc-\\ntion.\\nIn the twelfth century Arnold of Brescia\\nsounded the trumpet of Italian hberty. His\\nposition in the Church was of the lowest\\nrank. He was an impassioned and eloquent\\npreacher. He preached purity, love, right-\\neousness. He also preached liberty. This\\nwas the most dangerous of all his teachings.\\nYet the people revered him as a patriot.\\nThere were not wanting enemies to report\\nhis sayings to the authorities, who con-\\ndemned his views, and the magistrates of\\nBrescia proceeded to execute his sentence.\\nBut Arnold, forewarned, fled over the Alps\\ninto Switzerland, where he found refuge at\\nZurich, the first of the Swiss Cantons.\\nA New Reformer Appears.\\nUndismayed by fear, he crossed the Alps\\nagain, proceeded to Rome, and there erected\\nhis standard. He was protected by the\\nnobles and the people, and for ten years his\\neloquence thundered over the Seven Hills.\\nHe exhorted the Romans to assert the in-\\nalienable rights of men and Christians and\\nto restore the laws and magistrature of the\\nrepublic.\\nHis rule continued during the lives of twa\\nPopes, but on the accession of Adrian IV.\\nthe only Englishman who ever ascended the\\nthrone of St. Peter, Arnold was opposed\\nwith vigor and power, was apprehended and\\nsentenced to death.\\nItaly went on in its career of frivolity,\\ndissipation and vice. State warred against\\nstate, and Guelphs and Ghibellines wasted\\nthe country. In the thirteenth century\\nDante appeared, and again sounded the\\nnote of liberty. He believed in eternal\\njustice. In virtue of the truth and love\\nwhich dwelt in his own soul, he contrasted", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0395.jp2"}, "396": {"fulltext": "560\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nthe life of Italy with the higher and nobler\\ntendencies of humanity. The mad Italian\\nworld trembled in the light of time; between\\nheaven above and hell beneath. He dis-\\ncerned eternal justice under the wild striv-\\nings of men. His whole soul rose to the\\nheight of the great argument, and he poured\\nforth, in unequalled song, his vindication of\\nthe ways of God to man.\\nA Guiding Star.\\nDuring the. long centuries of Italian de-\\ngradation and misery his burning words\\nwere as a watch-fire and a beacon to the\\ntrue and faithful of his country. He was\\nthe herald of his nation s liberty braving\\npersecution, exile and death for the love of\\nit. In his De Monarchia he advocated,\\nlike Arnold of Brescia, the separation of the\\nspiritual from the civil power. His De\\nMonarchia was pubHcly burned at Bologna.\\nHe was always the most national of the\\nItalian poets, the most loved, the most read.\\nHe was banished from Florence in 1301.\\nHis house was given up to plunder, and he\\nwas sentenced in his absence to be burned\\nalive. During his banishment he wrote\\nsome of his noblest works. Men thought\\nof him, reverenced him and loved him. It\\nwas desired that his sentence of banishment\\nshould be repealed, and that he should\\nreturn to Florence.\\nIt was an ancient custom to pardon cer-\\ntain criminals in Florence on the festival of\\nSt. John the apostle who loved much.\\nIt was communicated to Dante that he\\nwould receive such a pardon on condition\\nof his presenting himself as a criminal.\\nWhen the proposal was made to him he\\nexclaimed, What! is this the glorious\\nrevocation of an unjust sentence, by which\\nDante Alighieri is to be recalled to his\\ncountry after suffering about three lustres\\nof exile? Is this what patriotism is worth?\\nIs this the recompense of my continued\\nlabor and study? If by this way only can\\nI return to Florence, then Florence shall\\nnever again be entered by me. And what\\nthen? Shall I not see the sun and the stars\\nwherever I may be, and ponder the sweet\\ntruth somewhere under heaven, without first\\ngiving myself up, naked in glory, and almost\\nin ignominy, to the Florentine people?\\nBread has not yet failed me. No! no! I\\nshall not return!\\nHeroic Fortitude.\\nDante accordingly refused the pardon\\nthus offered. He remained in banishment\\nfor twenty years, and died at Ravenna in\\n1321.\\nHistory is full of incidents that illustrate\\nthe great principle of fortitude and endurance.\\nHere is one narrated by Plutarch:\\nMucius entered into the camp of Porsena,\\na powerful Italian prince, to assassinate him.\\nNot knowing which man was Porsena, he\\nkilled the wrong man. Upon this he was\\nseized and examined. Meantime, as there\\nhappened to be a portable altar there, with\\nfire upon it, where the king was about to\\noffer sacrifice, Mucius thrust his right hand\\ninto it; and as the flesh was burning, he\\nkept looking upon Porsena with a firm and\\nmenacing aspect, until the king, astonished\\nat his fortitude, returned him his sword with\\nhis own hand.\\nHe received it with his left hand, from\\nwhence we are told he had the surname of\\nSccevola, which signifies left-handed and\\nthus addressed himself to Porsena: Your\\nthreatenings I regarded not, but am con-\\nquered by your generosity, and out of grati-\\ntude will declare to you what no force should\\nhave wrested from me. There are three\\nhundred Romans that have taken the same", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0396.jp2"}, "397": {"fulltext": "ENDURANCE.\\n361\\nresolution with mine, who now walk about\\nyour camp, watching their opportunity. It\\nwas my lot to make the first attempt, and I\\nam not sorry that my sword was directed by\\nfortune against another, instead of a man of\\nso much honor, who, as such, should rather\\nbe a friend than an enemy to the Romans.\\nPorsena believed this account, and was\\nmore inclined to hearken to terms, not so\\nmuch in my opinion through fear of three\\nhundred assassins, as admiration of the\\ndignity of the Roman valor.\\nIt is recorded by our own historian, Ban-\\ncroft, that Hugh Peters, once minister of\\nSalem, Massachusetts, was condemned as a\\nregicide, being an enemy of Charles I.\\nHe was allowed no council. At the gal-\\nlows he was compelled to wait while the\\nbody of his friend Cooke, who had just been\\nhanged, was cut down and quartered before\\nhis eyes. How like you this? cried the\\nexecutioner, rubbing his bloody hands. I\\nthank God, replied the martyr, I am not\\nterrified at it; you may do your worst.\\nTo his friends he said, Weep not for me;\\nmy heart is full of comfort.\\nStory of Abraham Holmes.\\nMacaulay relates in his History of Eng-\\nland that Abraham Holmes, a retired officer\\nof the Parliamentary army, and one of those\\nzealots who would own no king but King\\nJesus, had been taken at Sedgemoor. His\\narm had been frightfully mangled and shat-\\ntered in the battle and, as no surgeon was\\nat hand, the stout old soldier amputated it\\nhimself. He was carried up to London and\\nexamined by the king in council, but would\\nmake no submission. I am an aged man,\\nhe said, and what remains to me of life is\\nnot worth a falsehood or a baseness. I have\\nalways been a Republican, and I am so still.\\nHe was sent back to the west and hanged.\\nThe people remarked with awe and wonder\\nthat the beasts which were to drag him to\\nthe gallows became restive and went back.\\nHolmes himself doubted not that the Angel\\nof the Lord, as in the old time, stood in the\\nway, sword in hand, invisible to human eyes,\\nbut visible to the inferior animals. Stop,\\ngentlemen, he cried, let me go on foot.\\nThere is more in this than you think.\\nRemember how the ass saw Him whom the\\nprophet could not see. He walked man-\\nfully to the gallows.\\nCowards are Scorned.\\nThe resolute qualities of human character\\nhave always been admired the opposite\\nhave met with derision and contempt. Says\\nBancroft The Romans in their triumphal\\nprocessions exhibited captives to the gaze of\\nthe Roman people; the Indian conqueror\\ncompels them to run the gauntlet, through\\nthe women and children of his tribe. To\\ninflict blows that cannot be returned, is proof\\nof full success and the entire humiliation\\nof the enemy moreover, it is an experiment\\nof courage and patience. Those who show\\nfortitude are applauded the coward becomes\\nan object of scorn.\\nSays Tyler, speaking of the Indians, when\\none party prevailed, it was a rule to pursue\\ntheir success by an undistinguishing carnage,\\nas long as the enemy gave the smallest\\nresistance. When that was over, they bound\\nand carried off the prisoners, who were re-\\nserved for the most cruel and tormenting\\ndeath. This the captives themselves knew,\\nand were prepared for. They had, however,\\none chance of life for, on returning to their\\nvillage, the victors made offer to each family\\nof a captive for every relation they had lost\\nin the war. This offer they might either\\naccept or reject. If accepted, fhe captive\\nbecome a member of the family ii rejected,", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0397.jp2"}, "398": {"fulltext": "362\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nhe was doomed to die under the most excru-\\nciating tortures.\\nIn these executions the women would bear\\ntheir part, and seem actuated by the spirit of\\nfuries. What is most remarkable is the for-\\ntitude with which these unhappy wretches\\nsubmitted to their fate. There was a contest\\nbetween them and their tormentors which\\nshould exceed, these in inflicting, or the\\nothers in enduring the greatest exacerbations\\nof pain. It is even said that by insults they\\nendeavored to provoke their executioners\\nand stimulate their fury by telling them of\\nthe cruelties they had themselves inflicted on\\ntheir countrymen.\\nWe are not without our occasions for\\nfirmness and resolute endurance, although\\nwe may never be called, as it is to be hoped\\nwe never will be called, to mingle in war s\\ndread alarms.\\nBear it Bravely.\\nO, never from thy tempted heart\\nLet thine integrity depart\\nWhen disappointment fills the cup,\\nUndaunted, nobly drink it up\\nTruth will prevail, and justice show\\nHer tardy honors, sure though slow.\\nBear on bear bravely on\\nBear on Our life is not a dream,\\nThough often such its mazes seem\\nWe were not born for lives of ease.\\nOurselves alone to aid and please.\\nTo each a daily task is given,\\nA labor which shall fit for heaven\\nWhen duty calls, let love grow warm\\nAmid the sunshine and the storm.\\nWith faith life s trials boldly breast.\\nAnd come a conqueror to thy rest.\\nBear on bear bravely on\\nWe have another thrilling incident related\\nby Macaulay Margaret Maclachlan and\\nMargaret Wilson, the former an aged widow,\\nthe latter a maiden of eighteen, suffered\\ndeath for their religion in Wigtonshire. They\\nwere offered their lives if they would con-\\nsent to abjure the cause of the insurgent\\nCovenanters, and to attend the Episcopal\\nworship. They refused, and they were sen-\\ntenced to be drowned. They were carried\\nto a spot which the Solway overflows twice\\na day, and fastened to stakes fixed in the\\nsand, between high and low water mark.\\nThe elder sufferer was placed near to the\\nadvancing flood, in the hope that her last\\nagonies might terrify the younger into sub-\\nmission.\\nThe sight was dreadful but the courage\\nof the survivor was sustained by an enthu-\\nsiasm as lofty as any that is recorded in\\nmartyrology. She saw the sea draw nearer\\nand nearer, but gave no sign of alarm. She\\nprayed and sang verses of psalms till tht\\nwaves choked her voice. When she had\\ntasted the bitterness of death, she was, by a\\ncruel mercy, unbound and restored to life.\\nWhen she came to herself pitying friends\\nand neighbors implored her to yield. Dear\\nMargaret, only say God save the king\\nThe poor girl, true to her stern theology,\\ngasped out May God save him if it be\\nGod s will\\nHer friends crowded round the presiding\\nofficer. She has said it indeed, sir, she\\nhas said it. Will she take the abjura-\\ntion he demanded. Never she ex-\\nclaimed. I am Christ s; let me go!\\nAnd the waters closed over her for the last\\ntime.\\nStand by the Ship.\\nWise men ne er sit and wail their loss.\\nBut cheerly seek how to redress their harms.\\nWhat though the mast be now blown overboard.\\nThe cable broke, the holding anchor lost.\\nAnd half our sailors swallowed in the flood\\nYet lives our Pilot still is it meet that he\\nShould leave the helm, and like a fearful lad,\\nWith tearful eyes add water to the sea,\\nAnd give more strength to that which hath too\\nmuch", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0398.jp2"}, "399": {"fulltext": "ENDURANCE.\\n363\\nWhiles, in his moan, the ship splits on a rock,\\nWhich industry and courage might have saved\\nWii,i,iAM Shakespeare.\\nEndurance is also to be shown in bearing\\nthe ills and misfortunes that are common to\\nall alike. General Daniel Morgan, of Re-\\nvolutionary fame, said As to the fighting\\npart of the matter, the men of all nations\\nare pretty much alike they fight as much\\nas they find necessary, and no more. But,\\nsir, for the grand essential in the composi-\\ntion of the good soldier, give me the Dutch-\\nman he starves well.\\nEnduring Trials.\\nExistence may be borne, and the deep root\\nOf life and sufferance make its firm abode\\nIn base and desolate bosoms mute\\nThe camel labors with the heaviest load.\\nAnd the wolf dies in silence not bestowed\\nIn vain should such example be if they,\\nThings of ignoble or of savage mood,\\nEndure and shrink not, we of nobler clay\\nMay temper it to bear it is but for a day.\\nLord Byron.\\nWe are apt to imagine that warriors and\\nheroes are the ones who afford the finest\\nexamples of endurance. We celebrate in\\nglowing eulogy the Father of his country\\nand his little army, passing that long and\\nterrible winter at Valley Forge, shivering in\\nthe snow, clothed only in thin rags, living on\\nthe plainest fare, yet never once giving up\\ntheir hope in the success of the Revolution.\\nWithout detracting from the fame of heroes,\\nthe glory of patriots, the dazzling crown of\\nmartyrs, be assured that you can step into\\nthe humblest walks of life and there find\\nexhibitions of endurance that form as grand\\na theme for epics as any of which Homer\\nsang. Many a mother, bending over the\\ncradle of her child, watching the little suf-\\nferer all night, pouring upon it the treasures\\nof her heart, an unsleeping mother, gentle,\\npatient, thoughtful, self-sacrificing, deserves I\\nmore to have a monument of bronze or\\nmarble than many whose fame fills the world\\nand whose achievements are applauded.\\nIt is in the home, in the kitchen, in the\\ngarret, by the bedside it is in the dull\\nroutine of daily life that the brightest ex-\\namples of patient endurance are found.\\nHistories do not speak of them, news-\\npapers do not blow trumpets for them,\\nsociety in full dress does not invite them to\\nreceptions, yet these great ones of the earth,\\nGod s noblest and best, would leave the\\nworld very poor if they were not with us.\\nThus all common ideas of our finest virtues\\nhave to be reversed when we come to study\\nthe deep things of life.\\nThe Wife of a Ship Captain.\\nEdward Everett, the famous Boston orator,\\ndelivered in many places his celebrated ora-\\ntion on Washington. It was a masterly\\nproduction, and one of the most captivating\\nparts of it narrated the story of a humble\\nwoman, the wife of a ship captain. She was\\nwith him on the vessel that was sailing from\\nNew York to San Francisco. The crew\\nwas made up of men of the roughest class.\\nThe captain fell sick, died, and was buried\\nat sea. Immediately there were signs of\\nmutiny. This woman, discovering that the\\ncrew was about to seize the ship, rose to the\\nvery height of courage, armed herself,\\nstepped on deck, took command of the\\nvessel and steered it safe to port. Mr.\\nEverett offered this as a bright example of\\nheroism. It was such and merited all the\\nglowing periods in which it was told, but are\\nthere not examples in ten thousand homes\\nthroughout our land no less worthy of\\npraise? They who suffer, they who pine\\nyet wait, they who bear all things and\\nendure for these let the world weave its\\nbrightest chaplets.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0399.jp2"}, "400": {"fulltext": "I REGRET THAT I CANNOT TELL HIM I HAVE FORGOTTEN EVERYTHING. Napoleon.\\n364", "height": "3481", "width": "2502", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0400.jp2"}, "401": {"fulltext": "CHAPXKR XXIII.\\nFORGIVENESS.\\nAPOLEON saw among the slain\\nat the battle of Wagram a\\nColonel who had given him\\ncause for displeasure. He\\nstopped and gazed for a mo-\\nment at his sadly mutilated\\nbody stretched upon the gory\\nfield, and said with emotions which every\\ngenerous heart will understand I regret\\nnot having been able to speak to him before\\nthe battle, in order to tell him that I had\\nlong ago forgotten everything.\\nYou will notice that Napoleon said he had\\nforgotten. There are people who. say\\nthey have forgiven, but they have not for-\\ngotten. This really means that the forgive-\\nness is not complete; something is wanting\\nin it, it is defective, it is not free and generous,\\nit is lame and weak. In so far as the injury\\nis not forgotten and entirely overlooked, it is\\nnot forgiven and there is still resentment in\\nyour breast.\\nYou are not required to forget the injury\\nand blot it entirely from your memory.\\nYou are compelled to recall it to mind, just\\nas you do any other event in your life. The\\nbitter words, the sudden break of confidence,\\nIhe terrible thrust that rankled in your heart,\\nthe dark hour in which you felt yourself to\\nbe so grievously wronged, all this is lodged\\nin memory and sometimes comes back to\\nyou in spite of yourself Napoleon remem-\\nbered his former displeasure toward his\\ngallant officer, now struck by death in the\\nstorm of battle, but he meant to say that he\\nhad so fully forgiven and overlooked the\\noffence that it was now as if that offence had\\nnever been committed.\\nLet us be just to this great man and give\\nhim credit for all the good that was in him.\\nThe world has glorified him as a military\\ngenius. His march was the march of a\\nconqueror. As was said of Luther, so can\\nit be said of him, that his very words were\\nhalf-battles. Europe cringed before him,\\nand trembled when he gave his commands.\\nThe carnage, the myriads of dead, the blaz-\\ning torch of war, the slaughter and destruc-\\ntion, have largely been ignored in admiration\\nfor his splendid generalship, his vaulting\\nambition, his iron will, his dazzling success.\\nEven now everything that pertains to Napo-\\nleon has a mystic charm. Let his picture be\\nplaced in a shop window and, familiar as it is,\\ncrowds will stand before it, as if believing\\nhim to have been a kind of human god.\\nWe too often lose sight of the dark side of\\nthis man s character and career. The more\\nsober, honest judgment of history must\\ninevitably be, that the world would have\\nbeen better and happier if he had never lived.\\nAn Admirable Trait.\\nIt is, therefore, a relief to discover any\\nnoble traits in this great leader and com-\\nmander Stained as he was with blood, we\\nwill yet give him credit for that nobility of\\nsoul which shone so brilliantly in his readi-\\nness to forgive an injury. It is but simple\\ntruth to say that forgiveness is a trait that\\nbelongs to every noble character. How\\nmany people there are who are so selfish, so\\n365", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0401.jp2"}, "402": {"fulltext": "THE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nbase, so narrow-minded, so fiendish, that the\\nfirst impulse of a forgiving spirit never once\\nshows itself in their treatment of others.\\nThey take their fancied wrong, hug it to\\ntheir hearts, pet and fondle it, remember it\\nconstantly, make it a dear favorite, nurse it\\nas faithfully as a mother would her babe,\\nand appear to take an exquisite pleasure in\\ncherishing resentment.\\nAlways Getting Offended.\\nSuch people are always ready to take\\noffence. Their toes are everlastingly get-\\nting stepped on. And if not stepped on,\\nthey easily imagine that they are. They\\npersuade themselves that they are the vic-\\ntims of neglect, that they are slighted and\\nset aside, that they are angels and there are\\nso few people who appreciate angels that\\nothers have mean designs toward them, that\\ndamaging things have been said against\\ntheir character and reputation. They are\\nnot going to overlook the dreadful injury\\nthat has been inflicted upon them. All\\nattempts to appease them, to explain matters,\\nto put them in a pleasant mood, utterly fail.\\nIf some kind soul is willing to admit that the\\ninjury is real, and is generous enough to ask\\nforgiveness, they are unequal to the generous\\nspirit that overlooks and forgets the wrong\\nwhich has perhaps inadvertently been com-\\nmitted.\\nForgiveness should be exercised for your\\nown peace of mind, if for no other reason.\\nWhile it injures one s reputation to be harsh\\nand unforgiving, a far greater injury still is\\ninflicted upon the inward life, for with the\\nspirit of revenge and malice rankling in the\\nbreast, there can be no such thing as happi-\\nness.\\nAnger and revenge are uneasy passions\\nhence it appears that the command of loving\\nour enemies, which has been thought r. hard\\nsaying and impossible to be fulfilled, is really\\nno more, when resolved into its first princi-\\nples, than bidding us to be at peace with\\nourselves, which we cannot be so long as we\\ncontinue at enmity with others.\\nThe heathen themselves saw the reasona-\\nbleness of the spirit which we are now in-\\nculcating and approved of it. It is said\\nconcerning Juhus Caesar, that upon any pro-\\nvocation he would repeat the Roman alpha-\\nbet before he would suffer himself to speak,\\nthat he might be more just and calm in his\\nresentments, and also that he could forget\\nnothing but wrongs, and remember nothing\\nbut benefits.\\nSayings of the Wise.\\nIt becomes a man, says the Emperor\\nAntoninus, to love even those that offend\\nhim. A man hurts himself, says Epic-\\ntetus^ by injuring me; and what then?\\nShall I therefore hurt myself by injuring\\nhim? In benefits, says Seneca, it is a\\ndisgrace to be outdone; in injuries, to get\\nthe better. Another heathen, when he was\\nangry with one by him, said, I would beat\\nthee, but I am angry.\\nPhilip, king of Macedon, discovered great\\nmoderation, even when spoken to in shock-\\ning and injurious terms. At the close of an\\naudience which he gave to some Athenian\\nambassadors who were come to complain of\\nsome act of hostility, he asked whether he\\ncould do them any service. The greatest\\nservice thou couldst do us, said Demo-\\nchares, will be to hang thyself Philip,\\nthough he perceived all the persons present\\nwere highly offended at these words, made\\nthe following answer, with the utmost calm-\\nness of temper: Go; tell your superiors\\nthat those who dare make use of such inso-\\nlent language are more haughty and less\\npeaceably inclined than those who can for-", "height": "3481", "width": "2494", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0402.jp2"}, "403": {"fulltext": "FORGIVENESS.\\n367\\ngive them. It was a noble reply from one\\nwho had great provocation for anger.\\nMr. Burkitt observes in his journal, that\\nsome persons would never have had a par-\\nticular share in his prayers but for the in-\\njuries they had done him. This reminds\\nme of an exemplary passage concerning\\nAmos Lawrence s once going, with some of\\nhis sons, by the house of a gentleman that\\nhad been injurious to him. He gave a\\ncharge to his sons to this purpose: That\\nthey should never think or speak amiss of\\nthat gentleman for the sake of anything he\\nhad done against him but, whenever they\\nwent by his house, should hft up their hearts\\nin prayer to God for him and his family.\\nThis good man had learned to practice that\\nadmirable precept of our Lord, Pray for\\nthem which despitefully use you and perse-\\ncute you.\\nA Soft Answer.\\nOf Mr. John Henderson it was observed,\\nthat the oldest of his friends never beheld\\nhim otherwise than calm and collected; it\\nwas a state of mind he retained under all\\ncircumstances. During his residence at\\nOxford, a student of a neighboring college,\\nproud of his logical acquirements, was solic-\\nitous of a private disputation with the re-\\nnowned Henderson; some mutual friends\\nintroduced him, and, having chosen his sub-\\nject, they conversed for some time with\\nequal candor and moderation; but Hender-\\nson s antagonist, perceiving his confutation\\ninevitable (forgetting the character of a gen-\\ntleman, and with a resentment engendered\\nby his former arrogance), threw a full glass\\nof wine in his face. Henderson, without\\naltering his features or changing his position,\\ngently wiped his face and then cooly re-\\nplied, This, sir, is a digression; now for\\nthe argument.\\nWe sometimes hear individuals, when in\\na state of excitement, and indeed occasion-\\nally when calm and cool, avow a determina-\\ntion never to forgive an offence or an insult\\non the part of another. This disposition, so\\nbitter and relentless, is not only anti-Chris-\\ntian, but it is impolitic and unreasonable.\\nIf we were to submit ourselves to the same\\nsevere standard if we were to have treas-\\nured up against us, never to be cancelled or\\nblotted from the record, all our errors and\\nmisdoings, the future would present a sad\\nand gloomy prospect indeed. We are all\\nmore or less liable to temptation the\\ntemptations of feeling, of passion, of predju-\\ndice, of ambition, and of interest. And if,\\nhaving yielded in any one case, the door of\\npenitence and forgiveness should be closed\\nagainst us, our lot would be embittered\\nthrough life.\\nPower of Temptation.\\nMany, very many, says an eminent writer,\\nfall before some overpowering temptation,\\nnot only in youth but in mature years. But\\nGod forbid that either the one or the other\\nshould shut us out from all return. It is\\nonly against the man who wilfully and\\ndeliberately chooses the wrong course, as\\nthat which he is determined to follow, that\\nthe door can be said to be closed. For\\nevery other there is always an opportunity\\nof retreading his steps of abandoning evil,\\nand seeking right.\\nThis is liberal, benevolent, and humane\\ndoctrine. No one can tell the inducements\\nand vicissitudes by which another has been\\nsurrounded the struggle of mind, the con-\\nflict of heart, the excitement, the madness\\nand the despair, at the time of having\\ndeparted from the right path and followed\\nthe wrong. We have known instances in\\nwhich individuals have trembled with dismay", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0403.jp2"}, "404": {"fulltext": "368\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nafter the commission of some act of guilt\\nhave been perfectly appalled at the enormity\\nof the offence, overwhelmed with shame and\\nconfusion, and puzzled and confounded as to\\nthe infatuation that could so have overcome\\nthem.\\nUnder all such circumstances, the erring\\nshould, by gentle and generous means, be\\nwon back to well doing. They see the false\\nstep they have taken, and they would gladly\\nretrace the path. But the world too often\\njoins in the shout of reproach and indigna-\\ntion, exults over the fall of another h uman\\nbeing, and hurries on the poor wretch who\\nhas committed the error to some more\\ndesperate act of darkness and despair. There\\nis no angel voice to whisper consolation, to\\nurge penitence, to utter sympathy and for-\\ngiveness.\\nHow to Treat the Erring.\\nAnd yet mercy is one of the noblest\\nattributes of our nature. The man who\\ncan look with a lenient eye upon the errors\\nof his fellow-creatures who, seeing they\\nhave done wrong, is willing to make allow-\\nances, and to urge them to return again to\\nthe paths of rectitude and of duty, is indeed\\na Christian in the true, the real, the enno-\\nbling sense. Would that this disposition\\nwere more general would that greater\\nefforts were made to win the erring from\\ntheir first misdeeds, to forgive them for the\\npast, and cheer them on to better conduct\\nfor the future.\\nWhen, however, the guilty, by sudden\\ntemptation by penury, passion, or despair,\\nfind themselves not only denounced and\\nabandoned, but hunted and persecuted, the\\nheart shrinks and changes within them.\\nThe better qualities of their natur are em-\\nbittered, their faith in humanity is weakened\\nor lost, and they rush on wildly and bhndly\\nin a dark career of guilt and all its fearful\\nconsequences. Who has not committed\\nerror Who has not strayed away from\\nhigh principle, unwavering rectitude, and the\\nlofty standard of perfection\\nAnd yet who would not revolt at the idea\\nof having the door of forgiveness closed\\nagainst him of being doomed to suffer, no\\nmatter how deep his contrition, or how\\nsevere his penalty of regret, remorse and\\npunishment A penitent should ever be\\nwelcomed again to the fold of virtue. If, in\\nthe first place, he found himself unable to\\nresist the temptations of his position in the\\nworld, if despite his convictions to the con-\\ntrary, he nevertheless went astray and kept\\nastray for years, the effort by which he at\\nlast recovered himself, and asserted the\\nsupremacy of the moral and the right over\\nthe immoral and wrong, must have been a\\nvigorous and a noble one.\\nForgiving and Forgetting.\\nHe deserves credit therefor and, if sin-\\ncere, should not only be taken by the hand\\nfreely and willingly, but the darkness of his\\npast character should be blotted forever from\\nthe memory. We should forget, if possible,\\nand assuredly we should forgive. We\\nshould act towards others here, in humble\\nimitation of the spirit that our faith teaches\\nus to hope from the justice and the mercy of\\nthe Great Judge hereafter. How beautifully\\nis this idea conveyed by Tupper\\nTo forget It is hard for a man with a mind.\\nHowever his heart may forgive,\\nTo blot out all perils and dangers behind.\\nAnd but for the future to live.\\nThen how shall it be for at every turn\\nRecollection the spirit will fret.\\nAnd the ashes of injury smolder and burn,\\nThough we strive to forgive and forget.\\nOh, hearken my tongue shall the riddle unseal.\\nAnd mind shall be partner with heart.", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0404.jp2"}, "405": {"fulltext": "FORGIVENESS.\\n369\\nWhile to thyself I bid conscience reveal,\\nAnd show thee how evil thou art.\\nRemember thy follies, thy sins, and thy crimes\\nHow vast is that infinite debt\\nYet Mercy hath seven by seventy times\\nBeen swift to forgive and forget\\nBrood not on insults or injuries old.\\nFor thou art injurious too\\nCount not their sum till the total is told.\\nFor thou art unkind and untrue\\nAnd if all thy harms are forgotten, forgiven,\\nNow Mercy with Justice is met.\\nOh, who would not gladly take lessons of Heaven,\\nAnd learn to forgive and forget\\nYes, yes, let a man, when his enemy weeps.\\nBe quick to receive him a friend\\nFor thus on his head in kindness he heaps\\nHot coals, to refine and amend\\nAnd hearts that are Christian more eagerly yearn\\nAs a nurse on her innocent pet.\\nOver lips that, once bitter, to penitence turn,\\nAnd whisper, forgive and forget.\\nMartin F. Tupper.\\nOur Common Frailties.\\nAn intelligent friend contends that all men\\nhave their peculiarities, and are more or less\\nmonomaniacs. He admits his own mtirmi-\\nties, but expresses a hope that they partake\\nof the amiable and the mild rather than the\\nmalignant and the vicious, and he therefore\\nindulges the belief that, to a certain extent,\\nhis errors are of a harmless character.\\nNothing human, indeed, is perfect. All\\nhave their frailties and their short-comings,\\nand it very frequently happens that the very\\nblemishes we see and complain of in others\\nare those by which we ourselves are dis-\\nfigured, but to which we, nevertheless, are\\nunconscious or blind.\\nBut is it true that all are more or less\\nmonomaniacs that every member of the\\nhuman family is deluded and deceived to a\\ncertain extent upon some one subject? The\\nposition is startling at the first blush, and yet\\nit is not without a semblance of truth. We\\ncannot, in most cases, discover the fact in\\n24\\nourselves, although there are many who\\nknow and admit that they have tastes, habits\\nand prejudices to which they are in some\\nsense slaves, which control and master them\\nwith an irresistible power, and from which\\nthey endeavor in vain to escape.\\nAt certain periods they will wrestle and\\nbattle in the most vigorous manner against\\ntheir evil genius, and with apparent success\\nand yet the effect will only be temporary.\\nThe old habit will come back at some unex-\\npected moment, and they will yield to it\\nunconsciously.\\nBut with others the difficulty of discover-\\ning the weakness and the vice is indeed\\ngreat. It is curious, but it is not the less\\ntrue, that the faults and follies of our neigh-\\nbors are the ordinary themes of comment\\nand criticism, that others are ridiculed as\\nmonomaniacs upon this subject or upon\\nthat, and are denounced accordingly, while\\nwe cannot or will not see a similarity in\\nourselves.\\nHabitual Slanderers.\\nThere is scarcely an individual who cannot\\nsingle out from amongst his circle of acquaint-\\nance some one who is characterized by pecu-\\nliarities so marked and strong as to render\\nhim eccentric. If the error, habit or infirmity\\nbe of an evil tendency, so much the worse.\\nIf it be to defame, to denounce, to abuse and\\nmisrepresent, it is indeed censurable and\\ndeplorable, and calculated to do much harm.\\nAnd that there are such persons with such\\nhabits, slanderers by constitution, calumnia-\\ntors by monomania, is beyond all question.\\nThere are others, again, who run wild\\nupon some peculiar idea. They can think\\nand talk of nothing else. Their minds and\\ntheir hearts seem to have become absorbed\\nin a delusion, a dream or a prejudice, and in\\nthis they indulge in season and out of season,", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0405.jp2"}, "406": {"fulltext": "370\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nand without reference to discretion, common\\nsense, or of the ordinary rules of social life.\\nThey are enthusiasts, zealots, nay, worse\\nmonomaniacs. Everything according to\\ntheir doctrine should yield to the one\\ngreat purpose. All other interests or con-\\nsiderations should be forgotten and, infatu-\\nated for the time by their peculiar idiosyn-\\ncrasy, they can think of nothing else, and\\nfrequently sacrifice themselves to an ignis\\nfatuus of the brain.\\nEven among the most illustrious men of\\nancient and modern times, peculiarities, and\\noften of a most ridiculous kind, have been\\nnoticed. If, therefore, great intellectual lights\\nhave been thus characterized, we cannot be\\nsurprised that the comparatively feeble in\\n.itellect should manifest similar infirmities.\\nThere are, indeed, not a few individuals who\\nn their ordinary course of life are frank,\\n-nanly and generous, but who, nevertheless,\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0;n certain cases, are narrow, contracted and\\nniggardly.\\nHard-Hearted People.\\nThey will spend thousands in particular\\nkiinds of pomp and display, and yet turn the\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0hivering beggar starving from the door.\\nI hey will invest large sums in public enter-\\nprises, and manifest deep interest in patriotic\\nmovements, and yet they are insensible to\\nthe appeals of real benevolence. They have,\\nby some false mode of reasoning, persuaded\\nthemselves that all the unfortunate and the\\npoor are idle and dishonest, and they act\\nupon this bitter and heartless policy.\\nThis is, indeed, a deplorable description of\\nmonomania, for it not only deforms the char-\\nacter of the victim, but it misleads his judg-\\nment, hardens his heart, and renders him a\\ncurse instead of a blessing to society. We\\nare acquainted with an intelligent and estima-\\nble citizen, who is a passionate collector of\\nall kinds of pamphlets, old and new. He\\nmust have accumulated thousands and tens\\nof thousands more than he could read\\nduring a long lifetime. He is now in the\\nsere and yellow leaf, and yet the passion\\nis, if possible, more active than ever. It is,\\nof course, perfectly harmless, and we only\\nmention it by way of illustrating the general\\ntopic.\\nThe Duty of Charity.\\nThe moral of our philosophy is, that while\\nwe are blind to, or unconscious of, our own\\nerrors in this respect, we should be indulgent\\nto those of others. We should, at least,,\\nconsider all the circumstances, and not\\ndenounce harshly or hastily. And if, more-\\nover, we are exempt from, and have escaped\\nany serious infirmity, if we have no particu-\\nlar vice or weakness, no inveterate habit or\\nbitter prejudice, if, in brief, we know our-\\nselves, and are capable of governing our\\ntastes, appetites and passions, we should not\\nonly be grateful to Providence, but endeavor\\nto deal generously and forbearingly toward\\nthose who are less fortunate in their moral,\\nmental, and social temper, composition and\\nconstitution. Let us beheve, moreover, that\\nwe have some infirmity of the kind, which,\\nalthough not seen by our eyes, is visible tO\\nthose of others.\\nYes it is too true that every human\\nbeing has faults and infirmities, and is con-\\nstantly liable to be the occasion of pain and\\nsorrow to others. We shall always be liable\\nto errors of judgment. In short, we shall\\nneed to be forgiven. We shall be most ex-\\ncellent subjects for charity. Now, we should\\nbe willing to grant fair play to everybody\\nwe should not expect to receive more than\\nwe are disposed to give. There is an old\\ngolden rule that says Do to others as\\nyou would that they should do to you.", "height": "3471", "width": "2514", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0406.jp2"}, "407": {"fulltext": "THE RECONCILIATION.\\n371", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0407.jp2"}, "408": {"fulltext": "372\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nWhy call this rule golden Gold is the\\nmost precious of all metals, and so by com-\\nmon consent this rule is the best ever given\\nfor human conduct. If we observe it, we\\njlshall have a forgiving disposition, because\\nwe are sure to need that gentle forbearance\\nand charity, which form the brightest gems\\nin every character. How unreasonable then\\nto cherish ill-will and refuse to overlook an\\ninjury. Be more generous. Be more noble.\\nBe more like Him who, with dying breath,\\nprayed for his enemies, and in that prayer\\nwhich has become the world s prayer, made\\nour forgiveness of others the condition on\\nwhich we are to expect forgiveness for our-\\nselves.\\nJoseph Bradford was for many years the\\ntravelling companion of the Rev. John\\nWesley, and considered no assistance to him\\ntoo servile, but was subject to changes of\\ntemper. Wesley directed him to carry a\\npackage of letters to the post Bradford\\nwished to hear his sermon first Wesley was\\nurgent and insisted; Bradford refused.\\nThen, said Wesley, you and I must\\npart. Very good, sir, replied Bradford.\\nThey slept over it. On rising the next\\nmorning Wesley accosted his old friend and\\nasked if he had considered what he had\\nsaid, that they must part. Yes, sir,\\nreplied Bradford. And must we part?\\ninquired Wesley. Please yourself, sir,\\nwas the reply. Will you ask my pardon\\nrejoined Wesley. No, sir. You won t\\nNo, sir. Then I will ask yours re-\\nplied the great man. Bradford melted under\\nthe example, and wept like a child.\\nA Hard Lesson.\\nWhen on the fragrant sandal tree\\nThe woodman s axe descends,\\nAnd she, who bloomed so beauteously,\\nBeneath the weapon bends\\nJB en on the edge that wrought her death,\\nDying she breathes her sweetest breath,\\nAs if to token in her fall\\nPeace to her foes, and love to all.\\nHow hardly man this lesson learns,\\nTo smile, and bless the hand that spurns\\nTo see the blow, to feel the pain,\\nAnd render only love again\\nOns had it But He came from heaven,\\nReviled, rejected, and betrayed\\nNo curse He breathed, no plaint He made,\\nBut when in death s dark pang He sighed.\\nPrayed for His murderers, and died.\\nJ. Edmeston.\\nPleasure of Forgiveness.\\nHave you never felt the pleasure of forgiving fraud\\nor wrong\\nRippling through your soul like measure sweet of\\nsweetest poet s song?\\nHave you never felt that beauty lies in pain for\\nothers borne\\nThat the sacredness of duty bids you offer love for\\nscorn\\nTis the Christian, not the Stoic, that best triumphs\\nover pain.\\nIt is related in ancient history that Pom-\\npey had resolved to chastise the Himereans\\nfor attempting to support his enemies, when\\nthe orator Sthennis told him he would act\\nunjustly if he passed by the person that was\\nguilty, and punished the innocent. Pompey\\nasked him who was the guilty person, and\\nhe answered, I am the man. I persuaded\\nmy friends, and compelled my enemies, to\\ntake the measures they did. Pompey, de-\\nlighted with his frank confession and noble\\nspirit, forgave him first, and afterward all\\nthe people of Himera.\\nOne of our American historians makes\\nparticular mention of the fact that among\\nthe propensities of the red men was the pas-\\nsion for war. Their wars, however, were\\nalways undertaken for the redress of griev-\\nances, real and imaginary, and not for con-\\nquest. But with the Indian a redress of\\ngrievances meant a personal, vindictive and\\nbloody vengeance on the defender. The", "height": "3496", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0408.jp2"}, "409": {"fulltext": "FORGIVENESS.\\n373\\nIndian s principles of war were easily under-\\nstood, but irreconcilable with justice and hu-\\nmanity. The forgiveness of an injury was\\nreckoned a weakness and a shame. Revenge\\nwas considered among the nobler virtues.\\nThe open honorable battle of the field\\nwas an event unknown in Indian warfare.\\nFighting was limited to the surprise, the\\nambuscade, the massacre and military\\nstrategy consisted of cunning and treacnery.\\nQuarter was rarely asked and never granted\\nthose who were spared from the fight were\\nonly reserved for a barbarous captivity, ran-\\nsom or the stake. In the torture of his\\nvictims all the diabolical ferocity of the\\nsavage warrior s nature burst forth without\\nrestraint.\\nIn contrast with this unforgiving and\\nbloodthirsty spirit, read what is said of one\\nof England s great chief ju-stices.\\nGenerous Forbearance.\\nA man who had done Sir Matthew Hale\\na great injury came afterward to him for his\\nadvice in the settlement of his estate. Sir\\nMatthew gave his advice very frankly to\\nhim, but would accept of no fee for it and\\nthereby showed, both that he could forgive\\nas a Christian, and that he had the spirit of\\na gentleman, not to take money of one who\\nhad wronged him so grievously. When he\\nwas asked how he could use a man so kindly\\nwho had wronged him so much, his answer\\nwas, he thanked God he had learned to for-\\nget injuries.\\nSimilar was the spirit of Napoleon, as\\nalready stated. After his escape from exile\\nat Elba, and his re-ascension of the throne\\nof France, members of that senate which\\nhad pronounced Napoleon s forfeiture of the\\nthrone, called tremblingly, with their con-\\ngratulations. The emperor received them\\nwith courtesy, and gave no indication of the\\nshghtest resentment. I leave that act,\\nsaid he, for history to relate. For my\\npart, I forget all past occurrences.\\nBe assured that much depends upon the\\nmanner in which we forgive an injury. Mr.\\nA. goes to Mr. B. and says, You and I\\nhave lived here side by side for many years\\nand without any trouble or signs of a quar-\\nrel until lately. I feel uneasy; I am very\\nunhappy because our pleasant relations have\\nbeen disturbed, and I am very anxious to\\ntalk the matter over with you and see if we\\ncannot make up and be as good friends as\\never.\\nA Cool Reception.\\nI should think it was about time you\\ncame to your senses, blurts out Mr. B. Do\\nyou know, you have acted like a simpleton\\nYou ought to have come to me with your\\nconfession long ago. However, go on, let\\nme hear what you have got to say, but un-\\nderstand that you have been in the wrong\\nand the blame is all on your side.\\nWe will not stop to discuss that, says\\nMr. A. I have not come to rake up the\\nold trouble and live it all over again. Sup-\\npose for the sake of peace I take all the\\nblame.\\nWell, how could you do anything else?\\nYou must be very obtuse, to suppose I m\\ngoing to take the blame for your blunders\\nand malicious deeds. You have said and\\ndone what you knew was wrong at the time.\\nYou are an evil-disposed, crusty, thoughtless\\nperson anyway.\\nAnd so Mr. B. takes Mr. A., roasts him\\nover the fire of his resentment, gives him a\\npiece of his mind, as he calls it, and is eager\\nto have the quarrel continue. Now, Mr. B.,\\nyou had better not give. a piece of your mind\\nto anybody. A mind as small as yours is\\ncan t afford to part with any. You have", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0409.jp2"}, "410": {"fulltext": "^74\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nvery little mind and you should be economi-\\ncal and keep all you have.\\nYou surprise me, says Mr. A., for I\\nthought you would be neighborly, and\\nwould overlook the past, as I have asked\\nyou to do. Don t blow the embers into a\\nname again. I am not only willing to meet\\nyou half way but more now let us be\\nfriends again.\\nMr. B. is one of those resentful, unforgiv-\\ning mortals, who are never quite so happy\\nas when they are nursing some old grudge.\\nThey are weak-minded, sour, crabbed, de-\\ntestable. They die some time or other, and\\nthat is the best thing they can do. The\\nworld does not want them, is better off with-\\nout them, is glad to get rid of them.\\nA Human Porcupine.\\nFinally, after Mr. B. has raked up the old\\ntrouble, has made the worst out of it, has\\ngiven vent to his petty revenge, has gratified\\nhis fiendish spirit, has poured the vials of\\nhis vengeance on the head of his old neigh-\\nbor, he reluctantly consents to shake hands\\nand come to terms. The manner in which\\nthe trouble was settled is so unsatisfactory\\nthat you might almost say there is no settle-\\nment at all. How different it would have\\nbeen if this porcupine, Mr. B., instead of\\nbristling up, instead of snapping and snarling\\nand digging up the old root of bitterness,\\nhad said in a noble generous way, I m\\nmore than glad to see you, neighbor A. In\\nfact, I have thought many times of calling\\nto see if we could not be reconciled. Don t\\ntalk about the past let it all go it was a\\nmost unfortunate circumstance I don t want\\nyou to take the blame any more than I am\\nwilling to take it myself Friends again\\nOf course, we will be friends and never\\nought to have been anything else.\\nThis would have been a happy termination\\nof the quarrel. The sunhght of forgiveness\\nwould have beamed in each face and each\\nwould have known the joy of charity and\\nreconciliation.\\nIt happened that a gentleman in one of\\nour eastern towns took great offence against\\na merchant in the same place, and after\\nbrooding a long time over the fancied injury,\\nstepped into the store one morning, bent on\\na pitched battle. His lip curled, fire was in\\nhis eye, the heat of anger burned upon his\\ncheek, and he was m-ore hke a madman than\\na Christian. Meeting the merchant, he said\\nin a loud tone of voice, It was all false,\\nevery word of it. You are a base scoundrel,\\nand I have come to tell you right to your\\nface what I think of you.\\nSaid the merchant with his blandest smile,\\nO, no matter about that; I will excuse\\nyou I ve nothing against you, but see here,\\nI ve some choice goods I would like to show\\nyou this morning, and I will sell them\\nvery cheap.\\nNine-Tenths are Foolish.\\nThe merchant went on talking about his\\ngoods and was as pleasant as sunshine, very\\naffable and polite. The other tried to say\\nsome severe things, but finding he would\\nhave the quarrel all to himself, saw the ab-\\nsurdity of what he was doing and with a\\nlook of shame turned and left the store. A\\nsoft answer, says the proverb, turneth\\naway wrath. This merchant had a good\\nknowledge of human nature. He was not\\nready for an encounter, and probably under-\\nstood that nine-tenths of the personal mis-\\nunderstandings in the world are causeless\\nand foolish. How often it happens that a\\nsimple explanation will give an entirely new\\nview to conduct that was first thought to be\\nvery reprehensible. For this reason it is\\nimportant that we should meet all enmity in.", "height": "3496", "width": "2532", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0410.jp2"}, "411": {"fulltext": "FORGIVENESS.\\n37 r.\\na charitable spirit and should be ready to\\nforgive.\\nSays Sir Thomas Browne Let not the\\nsun in Capricorn [when the days are short-\\nest] go down upon the wrath, but write thy\\nwrongs in ashes. Draw the curtain of night\\nupon injuries, shut them up in the tower of\\noblivion, and let them be as though they had\\nnot been. To forgive our enemies, yet hope\\nthat God will punish them, is not to forgive\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0enough. To forgive them ourselves, and\\nnot to pray God to forgive them, is a partial\\nact of charity. Forgive thine enemies totally.\\nand without any reserve that, however, God\\nwill revenge thee.\\nWe Should be Silent.\\nSays Addison: If a man has any talent\\nin writing, it shows a good mind to forbear\\nanswering calumnies and reproaches in the\\nsame spirit of bitterness in which they are\\noffered. But when a man has been at some\\npains in making suitable returns to an enemy,\\nand has the instruments of revenge in his\\nhands, to let drop his wrath, and stifle his\\nresentments, seems to have something in it\\ngreat and heroical. There is a peculiar\\nmerit in such a way of forgiving an enemy\\nand the more violent and unprovoked the\\noffence has been, the greater still is the merit\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0of him who thus forgives it.\\nSays Chalmers Tell us, ye men who\\nare so jealous of right and honor, who take\\nsudden fire at every insult, and suffer the\\nslightest imagination of another s contempt,\\nor another s unfairness, to chase from your\\nbosom every feeling of complacency ye\\nmen whom every fancied affront puts in such\\na turbulence of emotion, and in whom every\\nfancied infringement stirs up the quick and\\nthe resentful appetite for justice, how will\\nyou stand the rigorous application of that\\ntest by which the forgiven of God are ascer-\\ntained, even that the spirit of forgiveness is\\nin them, and by which it will be pronounced\\nwhether you are, indeed, the children of the\\nHighest, and perfect as your Father in\\nheaven is perfect\\nSays Cowper Alas! if my best Friend,\\nwho laid down his life for me, were to re-\\nmember all the instances in which I have\\nneglected Him, and to plead them against\\nme in judgment, where should I hide my\\nguilty head in the day of recompense I\\nwill pray, therefore, for blessings upon my\\nfriends, even though they cease to be so, and\\nupon my enemies, though they continue\\nsuch.\\nSays Lord Herbert He that cannot\\nforgive others breaks the bridge over which\\nhe must pass himself; for every man has\\nneed to be forgiven.\\nHow Injuries are Defeated.\\nSays Dr. Johnson A constant and un-\\nfailing obedience is above the reach of ter-\\nrestrial diligence and, therefore, the pro-\\ngress of life could only have been the natural\\ndescent of negligent despair from crime to\\ncrime, had not the universal persuasion of\\nforgiveness to be obtained by proper means\\nof reconciliation recalled those to the paths\\nof virtue whom their passions had solicited\\naside, and animated to new attempts and\\nfirmer perseverance those whom difficulty\\nhad discouraged, or negligence surprised.\\nSays Alexander Pope Whoever is\\nreally brave has always this comfort when he\\nis oppressed, that he knows himself to be\\nsuperior to those who injure him, by forgiv-\\ning it.\\nSays Paul Richter Humanity is never\\nso beautiful as when praying for forgiveness,\\nor else forgiving another. Nothing is more\\nmoving to man than the spectacle of recon\\nciliation our weaknesses are thus indemni-", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0411.jp2"}, "412": {"fulltext": "376\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nfied, and are not too costly, being the price\\nwe pay for the hour of forgiveness and the\\narchangel who has never felt anger, has\\nreason to envy the man who subdues it.\\nWhen thou forgivest, the man who has\\npierced thy heart stands to thee in the rela-\\ntion of the sea-worm that perforates the shell\\nof the mussel, which straightway closes the\\nwound with a pearl.\\nSays Sterne The brave only know how\\nto forgive it is the most refined and gener-\\nous pitch of virtue human nature can arrive\\nat. Cowards have done good and kind\\nactions cowards have even fought, nay,\\nsometimes conquered; but a coward never\\nforgave it is not in his nature the power\\nof doing it flows only from a strength and\\ngreatness of soul conscious of its own force\\nand security, and above a,ll the little tempta-\\ntions of resenting every fruitless attempt to\\ninterrupt its happiness.\\nNot to Overlook Justice.\\nSays Whateley The duty of the Chris-\\ntian forgiveness does not require you, nor\\nare you allowed, to look on injustice, or any\\nother fault, with indifference, as if it were\\nnothing wrong at all, merely because it is\\nyou that have been wronged.\\nBut even where we cannot but censure,\\nin a moral point of view, the conduct of\\nthose who have injured us, we should\\nremember that such treatment as may be\\nvery fitting for them to receive may be very\\nunfitting for us to give. To cherish, or to\\ngratif)/, haughty resentment, is a departure\\nfrom the pattern left us by Him who en-\\ndured such contradiction of sinners against\\nHimself, not to be justified by any offence\\nthat can be committed against us. And it\\nis this recollection of Him who, faultless\\nHimself, designed to leave us an example of\\nmeekness and long-suffering, that is the true\\nprinciple and motive of Christian forgiveness.\\nWe shall best fortify our patience under\\ninjuries by remembering how much we our-\\nselves have to be forgiven.\\nAn old Spanish writer says, To return\\nevil for good is devilish to return good for\\ngood is human; but to return good for evil\\nis Godlike.\\nHistory has many records of harsh sever-\\nity and revenge. One of the most painful is\\nthe treatment accorded to Sir Walter Ral-\\neigh. There was an alleged conspiracy\\nagainst James I. Raleigh underwent a trial,\\nwhich, though the issue declared him guilty,\\nleaves the mind in a state of absolute skepti-\\ncism with regard to the reality of this con-\\nspiracy, or of his concern in it. Raleigh s\\nsentence was suspended for the course of\\nfifteen years, during most of which time he\\nwas confined in the Tower, where he em-\\nployed himself in the composition of his\\nHistory of the World, a work excellent in\\npoint of style, and in many branches valuable\\nin point of matter.\\nExecuted at Last.\\nIn the last year of his life he received the\\nking s commission of admiral to undertake\\nan expedition for the discovery of some rich\\nmines in Guiana. This, which, if not law,\\nhumanity at least ought to have interpreted\\ninto a pardon of his offence, was, however,\\nnot so understood by the monarch, whose\\nheart had no great portion of the generous\\nfeelings. Raleigh s expedition was unsuc-\\ncessful the court of Spain complained of an\\nattack which he had made upon one of their\\nsettlements. James wished to be at peace\\nwith Spain, and Raleigh, at his return, was\\nordered to be beheaded on his former sen-\\ntence.\\nA striking instance of the folly of resent-\\nment is furnished by the duel between Com-", "height": "3481", "width": "2518", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0412.jp2"}, "413": {"fulltext": "FORGIVENESS.\\n377\\nmodores Decatur and Barron. The word\\nbeing given, they fired so exactly together\\nthat it sounded Hke the report of one pistol.\\nBarron fell, badly wounded. Decatur was\\nabout to fall, but was caught, and staggered\\nforward a few steps, and sank down close to\\nBarron and, as they lay on the ground,\\nboth expecting to die, they conversed to-\\ngether as follows, as near as could be col-\\nlected Let us, said Barron, make friends\\nbefore we meet in heaven. Everything has\\nbeen conducted in the most honorable ma^n-\\nner, and I forgive you from the bottom of\\nmy heart.\\nI have never been your enemy, Decatur\\nreplied, and I freely forgive you my death,\\nthough I cannot forgive those who stimulated\\nyou to seek my life. Would to God,\\nsaid Barron, that you had said as much\\nyesterday According to one witness,\\nDecatur added God bless you, Barron.\\nTo which Barron replied, God bless you,\\nDecatur. Decatur died and Barron survived.\\nBut not merely on great occasions when\\nwe feel that we have been injured in connec-\\ntion with some very important transaction,\\nbut in the little affairs of everyday life and\\nin the home is there need of showing the\\nspirit of forgiveness.\\nThe well-known authoress, Mrs. Gaskell,\\ndraws a beautiful picture in one of her\\nworks of a forgiving disposition. Perhaps\\nsome of my readers will remember the little\\nhousehold of Captain Brown and his two\\ndaughters. The elder of these was unfortu-\\nnately an invalid. Her natural disposition\\nwas not the most amiable, and to this was\\nadded the peevishness which arises irom ill-\\nhealth. She was a chronic fault-finder. Only\\noccasionally did there come a gleam of\\ncheerfulness and affection.\\nHer younger sister showed almost the de~\\nvotion of an angel, was kind and attentive,\\nand with all a sis .e;- s rentleness, nursed the\\nsufferer until death ga\\\\e her a happy release.\\nIn her last moments she felt that she could\\nnot die without asking forgiveness from the\\ndear one, who had been so devoted and\\npatient. The scene as described is enough\\nto move every heart. With noble, womanly\\nmagnanimity the younger sister took the\\nhand of the dying one, assured her that all\\nwas forgiven even before that forgiveness\\nwas asked, and with a smile upon her face\\nthe elder sister fell peacefully asleep.\\nO, what peace and happiness does it bring\\nto ask and receive forgiveness when we know\\nwe have injured another, and what joy does it\\nbring to grant what is asked. If it must\\nneeds be that offences come, this is God s\\nown way of sef- .ing th=m and blotting them\\nfrom the reco d oi n-n Jiros.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0413.jp2"}, "414": {"fulltext": "BASE INGRATITUDE\\n378", "height": "3481", "width": "2634", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0414.jp2"}, "415": {"fulltext": "CHAPTKR XXIV.\\nGRATITUDE.\\nHERE is a world of meaning\\nin those two short words,\\nThankyou. You may have\\nspoken them many times\\nfrom the mere force of habit\\nyou have uttered them form-\\nally and without thought.\\nThey belong to the better side of life and\\nstand opposed to ingratitude.\\nDid you ever think how much is meant\\nby our national Thanksgiving? Bear in\\nmind that the Government at Washington\\nappoints a special day for the expression of\\ngratitude. It is expected that all business\\nwill be suspended, that the shop and the\\nstore will be closed, that the wheels of the\\nfactory will rest, that the sounds of labor\\nwill be hushed, and the people will think of\\niheir blessings. Is he not an ungrateful\\nwretch who fails to catch the meaning of\\nthis day, recall the benefits he has received,\\nand prize the treasures of health and pros-\\nperity A national Thanksgiving is reason-\\nable, for, as we receive the season s bounty,\\nso we should give evidence that we appre-\\nciate it. The very flowers lift up their beau-\\ntiful lips as if to bless the sun that warms\\nthem into lovehness.\\nPractically, our national Thanksgiving is\\na national harvest festival, fixed by proc-\\nlamation of the president and the governors\\nof States, and ranks as a legal holiday. In\\n1789 the Episcopal Church formally recog-\\nnized the civil government s authority to\\nappoint such a feast, and in 1888 the Roman\\nCatholic Church also decided to honor a\\nfestival, which had long been nearly univer\\nsally observed though nowhere with such\\nzest as in the New England States, where it\\nranks as the great annual family festival,\\ntaking the place which in England is\\naccorded to Christmas.\\nThe earliest harvest Thanksgiving in\\nAmerica was kept by the Pilgrim Fathers at\\nPlymouth in 1621, and was repeated often\\nduring that and the ensuing century Con-\\ngress commended days of thanksgiving an-\\nnually during the revolution, and in 1789\\nafter the adoption of the constitution, and in\\n1795 for the general benefits and welfare of\\nthe nation. Since 18 17 the festival has\\nbeen observed annually in New York, and\\nsince 1863 the presidents have always issued\\nproclamations appointing the last Thursday\\nof November as Thanksgiving Day.\\nGrateful for Everything.\\nPeople who have all the luxuries of life,\\nwho are possessed of abundant means, who\\nhave only to wish, and the wish is gratified,\\nyet are forever complaining, moping, grum-\\nbling, and appear to be disgusted with every-\\nthing in general, except themselves, may\\nsmile in derision at the historic statement\\nthat the good old Pilgrim Fathers should\\nhave appointed a day of thanksgiving.\\nWhat had they to be thankful for? No\\nstately mansions, no gardens of floral beauty,\\nno velvet carpets, no rosewood furniture, no\\nglittering chandeliers, no service of silver or\\ngold, no silks and satins, no fashions from\\nWorth in Paris. How did the poor crea-\\n379", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0415.jp2"}, "416": {"fulltext": "380\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\ntures live? Log houses,, chinked with mor-\\ntar, bare floors and unpainted ceilings,\\nhomespun garments, a wilderness of savages\\naround, the real comforts of home entirely\\nwanting, plain clothes, plain fare, plain man-\\nners these very commonplace accessories\\nmake up the picture of their rugged life.\\nThey toiled, they struggled, they fought,\\nthey suffered, they sometimes knew hunger\\nand privation they were happy.\\nStory of a Cripple.\\nAt all events, they resigned themselves to\\nthe situation, made the most of their mercies,\\nwere always thankful, and went so far as\\nto appoint a day for expressing their grati-\\ntude. Do you say they had nothing for\\nwhich to be thankful Would you say that\\nthe poor beggar in the streets of New York\\nwho had lost both arms in the war was a\\nself-deceiver, when he made a reply one day\\nto a person who was pitying him Poor\\nfellow, said a lady, who met him, you\\nhave been very unfortunate. Poor fel-\\nlow, exclaimed the man, why, I saw a\\nman the other day who had lost both legs\\nand both arms, and came near losing his\\nhead at that. Madam, I m thankful for\\nwhat s left of me. You may think this\\nbeggar was a philosopher. What hinders\\nyou from being a philosopher You may\\nthink others are far better off than you are\\nyou live in a mansion, but the man across\\nthe street has a house that is two feet higher\\nthan yours, and grounds that are a yard\\nwider, and your heart is just broken. And\\nso you are making yourself miserable and\\nungrateful. I had almost said you ought to\\nbe stripped as clean as Robinson Crusoe\\nwas on his island. You do not deserve such\\na tow jacket as the old Pilgrim Fathers\\nwere glad to get, and thought was good\\nenough to go to church in. Be grateful for\\nthe bounty that crowns your life. Have\\nsome nobility of character take and enjoy\\nwhat you have. Don t sour all your bless-\\nings, with the vinegar of a mean, unthankful\\nspirit.\\nCauses for Thankfulness.\\nFor all that God in mercy sends\\nFor health and children, home and friendt.\\nFor comfort in the time of need.\\nFor eveiy kindly word and deed,\\nFor happy thoughts and holy talk,\\nFor guidance in our daily walk,\\nFor everything give thanks\\nFor beauty in this world of ours,\\nFor verdant grass and lovely flowers.\\nFor song of birds, for hum of bees,\\nFor the refreshing summer breeze,\\nFor hill and plain, for streams and wood,\\nFor the great ocean s mighty flood,\\nIn everything give thanks\\nFor the sweet sleep which comes with night,\\nFor the returning morning s light.\\nFor the bright sun that shines on high.\\nFor the stars glittering in the sky,\\nFor these and everything we see,\\nO Lord our hearts we lift to Thee,\\nFor everything give thanks\\nFl^IvEN ISABELIrA TUPPER.\\nSaid a very old man Some folks are\\ncomplaining about the weather; but I am\\nvery thankful when I wake up in the morn-\\ning to find any weather at all. We may\\nsmile at the simplicity of the old man, but\\nstill his language indicates a spirit that con-\\ntributes much to a calm and peaceful life.\\nIt is better and wiser to cultivate that spirit\\nthan to be always complaining of things, as\\nwe are. Be thankful for such mercies as\\nyou have, and if God sees that it will be for\\nyour good and his glory, he will give you\\nmany more. At least, do not make your-\\nself and others unhappy by your ingratitude\\nand complaints. Amidst abundance do not\\nmake j^ourself poor by persuading yourself\\nthat you have nothing.", "height": "3496", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0416.jp2"}, "417": {"fulltext": "GRATITUDE.\\n381\\nBase Ingratitude.\\nThe stall-fed ox, that is grown fat, will know\\nHis careful feeder, and acknowledge too\\nThe generous spaniel loves his master s eye,\\nAnd licks his fingers though no meat be by\\nBut man, ungrateful man, that s born and bred\\nBy Heaven s immediate power maintained and fed\\nBy His providing hand observed, attended.\\nBy His indulgent grace preserved, defended.\\nBy His prevailing arm this man, I say.\\nIs more ungrateful, more obdure than they.\\nMan, O, most ungrateful man, can ever\\nEnjoy Thy gift, but never mind the Giver\\nAnd like the swine, though pampered with enough.\\nHis eyes are never higher than the trough.\\nFrancis Quarles.\\nBlessings Forgotten.\\nWe find the fiercest things that live,\\nThe savage born, the wildly rude.\\nWhen soothed by Mercy s hand, will give\\nSome faint response of gratitude.\\nBut man oh blush, ye lordly race\\nShrink back, and question thy proud heart\\nDo ye not lack that thankful grace\\nWhich ever forms the soul s best part I\\nWill ye not take the blessings given.\\nThe priceless boon of ruddy health.\\nThe sleep unbroken, peace unriven.\\nThe cup of joy, the mine of wealth\\nWill ye not take them all, and yet\\nWalk from the cradle to the grave,\\nEnjoying, boasting, and forget\\nTo think upon the God that gave\\nThou lt even kneel to blood-stained kings,\\nNor fear to have thy serfdom known\\nThy knee will bend for bauble things,\\nYet fail to seek its Maker s throne.\\nEtizA Cook.\\nGratitude -s a painful pleasure, felt and\\nexpressed by none but noble souls. Such\\nare pained, because misfortune places them\\nunder the stern necessity of receiving favors\\nfrom the benevolent, who are, as the world\\nwould say, under no obligations to bestow\\nthem free-will offerings, made by generous\\nhearts, to smooth the rough path, and wipe\\naway the tears of a fellow being. They\\nderive a pleasure from the enjoyment of the\\nbenefits bestowed, which is rendered more\\nexquisite by the reflection that there are\\nthose in the world who can feel and appre-\\nciate the woes of others, and lend a willing\\nhand to help them out of the ditch those\\nwho are not wrapped up in the cocoon of\\nselfish avarice, who live only for themselves,\\nand die for the devil.\\nThis pleasure is farther refined by a knowl-\\nedge of the happiness enjoyed by the person\\nwhose benevolence dictated the relief in the\\ncontemplation of a duty performed, imposed\\nby angelic philanthropy, guided by motives\\npure as heaven. The worthy recipient feels\\ndeeply the obligations under which he is\\nplaced no time can obliterate them from his\\nmemory, no statute of limitation bars the\\npayment the moment, means and oppor-\\ntunity are within his power, the debt is joy-\\nfully liquidated, and this very act gives a\\nfre vigor to his long-cherished gratitude.\\nPlanting Trees for Others.\\nA very poor and aged man, busied in\\nplanting and grafting an apple tree, was\\nrudely interrupted by this interrogation:\\nWhy do you plant trees, who cannot hope\\nto eat the fruit of them? He raised him-\\nself up, and leaning upon his spade, replied\\nSome one planted trees for me before I was\\nborn, and I have eaten the fruit I now plant\\nfor others, that the memorial of my gratitude\\nmay exist when I am dead and gone. It\\nis a species of agreeable servitude to be\\nunder an obligation to those we esteem.\\nIngratitude is a crime so shameful that the\\nman has not yet been found who would\\nacknowledge himself guilty of it.\\nNothing tenders the heart, and opens the\\ngushing fountain of love, more than the\\nexercise of gratitude. Like the showers of", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0417.jp2"}, "418": {"fulltext": "382\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nspring, that cause flowers to rise from seeds\\nthat have long lain dormant, tears of grati-\\ntude awaken pleasurable sensations, unknown\\nto those who have never been forced from\\nthe sunshine of prosperity into the cold shade\\nof adversity, where no warmth is felt but\\nthat of benevolence; no light enjoyed but\\nthat of charity unless it shall be the warmth\\nand light communicated from Heaven to the\\nsincerely pious, who alone are prepared to\\nmeet, with calm submission, the keen and\\nchilling winds of misfortune, and who, above\\nall others, exercise the virtue of gratitude,\\nin the full perfection of its native beauty.\\nThe Grecian Soldier.\\nA certain soldier in the Macedonian army\\nhad in many instances distinguished himself\\nby extraordinary marks, of valor, and had\\nreceived many marks of Philip s favor and\\napprobation. On some occasion he em-\\nbarked on board a vessel, which was\\nwrecked by a violent storm, and he him-\\nself cast on the shore helpless and naked,\\nand scarcely with the appearance of life.\\nA Macedonian, whose lands were contiguous\\nto the sea, came opportunely to be witness\\nof his distress and, with all humane and\\ncharitable tenderness, flew to the rehef of the\\nunhappy stranger. He bore him to his\\nhouse, laid him in his own bed, revived,\\ncherished, comforted, and for forty days sup-\\nplied him freely with all the necessaries and\\nconveniences which his languishing condition\\ncould require.\\nThe soldier, thus happily rescued from\\ndeath, was incessant in the warmest expres-\\nsions of gratitude to his benefactor, assured\\nhim of his interest with the king, and of his\\npower and resolution of obtaining for him,\\nfrom the royal bounty, the noble returns\\nwhich such extraordinary benevolence had\\nmerited. He was now completely recovered,\\nand his kind host supplied him with money\\nto pursue his journey. In some time after\\nhe presented himself before the king he\\nrecounted his misfortunes, magnified his ser-\\nvices and this inhuman wretch, who had\\nlooked with an eye of envy on the possess-\\nions of the man who had preserved his Hfe,.\\nwas now so abandoned to all sense of grati-\\ntude as to request that the king would\\nbestow upon him the house and lands where\\nhe had been so tenderly and kindly enter-\\ntained.\\nEvil for Good.\\nUnhappily, Philip, without examination,,\\ninconsiderately and precipitately granted his\\ninfamous request and this soldier, now\\nreturned to his preserver, repaid his good-\\nness by driving him from his settlement, and\\ntaking immediate possession of all the fruits\\nof his honest industry. The poor man,,\\nstung with this instance of unparalleled in-\\ngratitude and insensibility, boldly determined,,\\ninstead of submitting to his wrongs, to seek\\nrelief; and, in a letter addressed to Philip,\\nrepresented his own and the soldier s conduct\\nin a lively and affecting manner.\\nThe king was instantly fired with indigna-\\ntion he ordered that justice should be done\\nwithout delay that the possessions should\\nbe immediately restored to the man whose\\ncharitable offices had been thus horribly\\nrepaid and having seized the soldier, caused\\nthese words to be branded on his forehead.\\nThe Uitgratefid Guest a character infamous\\nin every age and among all nations, but\\nparticularly among the Greeks, who from\\nthe earliest times were most scrupulously\\nobservant of the laws of hospitality. If all\\nthe foreheads that deserve to be branded with\\nthe mark of ingratitude had it burned there,\\nmany people would wear their hats very\\nlow on their heads.", "height": "3481", "width": "2531", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0418.jp2"}, "419": {"fulltext": "Hymn of Thanksgi^\\n^OR the blessings of the field,\\npt For the stores the gardens\\nyield,\\nFor the vine s exalted juice.\\nFor the generous olive s use\\nFlocks that whiten all the plain,\\nYellow sheaves of ripened grain.\\nClouds that drop their fattening\\ndews,\\nSuns that temperate warmth difiuse;\\nAll that Spring, with bounteous\\nhand,\\nScatters o er the smiling land\\nAll that liberal Autumn pours\\nFrom her rich o erflowing stores;\\nThese to Thee, my God, we owe\\nSource whence all our blessings\\nflow\\nAnd for these my soul shall raise\\nGrateful vows and solemn praise.\\nYet should rising whirlwinds tear\\nFrom its stem the ripening ear,\\nShould the fig-tree s blasted shoot\\nDrop her green untimely fruit\\nShould the vine put forth no more,\\nNor the olive yield her store.\\nThough the sickening flocks should fall,\\nAnd the herds desert the stall\\nShould thine altered hand restrain\\nThe early and the latter rain,\\nBlast each opening bud of joy.\\nAnd the rising year destroy\\nYet to Thee my soul should raise\\nGrateful vows and solemn praise,\\nAnd, when every blessing s flown.\\nLove Thee for Thyself alone.\\nAnna Lcetitia Barbauld.\\nh.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0419.jp2"}, "420": {"fulltext": "384\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nGratitude Personified.\\nHere, as her home, from morn to eve frequents\\nThe cherub Gratitude behold her eyes\\nWith love and gladness weepingly they shed\\nEcstatic smiles the incense that her hands\\nUprear is sweeter than the breath of May\\nCaught from the nectarine s blossoms, and her\\nvoice\\nIs more than voice can tell to Him she sings,\\nTo Him who feeds, who clothes, and who adorns,\\nWho made, and who preserves whatever dwells\\nIn air, in steadfast earth, or fickle sea.\\nChristopher Smart.\\nA Fragrant Incense.\\nWhen gratitude o erflows the swelling heart,\\nAnd breathes in free and uncorrupted praise\\nFor benefits received propitious Heaven\\nTakes such acknowledgment as fragrant incense.\\nAnd doubles all its blessings.\\nGeorge IvIi,i,o.\\nMrs. Jameson writes: Once, when I\\nwas at Vienna, there was a dread of hydro-\\nphobia, and orders were given to massacre\\nall the dogs which were found unclaimed or\\nuncollared in the city or suburbs. Men were\\nemployed for- this purpose, and they gener-\\nall carried a short heavy stick, which they\\nflung at the poor proscribed animal with\\nsuch certain aim as either to kill or maim it\\nmortally at one blow.\\nIt happened one day that, close to the\\nedge of the river, near the Ferdinand s\\nBriicke, one of these men flung his stick at a\\nwretched dog, but with such bad aim that it\\nfell into the river. The poor animal, follow-\\ning its instinct or its teaching, immediately\\nplunged in, redeemed the stick, and laid it\\ndown at the feet of its owner, who, snatching\\nit up, dashed out the creature s brains. I\\nwonder what the Athenians would have done\\nto such a man they who banished the\\njudge of the Areopagus because he flung\\naway the bird which had sought shelter in\\nhis bosom.\\nGratitude may be improvident, as Wash-\\nington Irving points out in the case of\\nOliver Goldsmith. He intended to proceed\\nto Paris and pursue his medical studies\\nthere, and was furnished by his friend with\\nmoney for the journey. Unluckily, he ram-\\nbled into the garden of a florist just before\\nquitting Leyden. The tulip mania was still\\nprevalent in Holland, and some species of\\nthat splendid flower brought immense prices.\\nIn wandering through the garden Goldsmith\\nrecollected that his Uncle Contarine was a\\ntulip-fancier.\\nThe thought suddenly struck him that\\nhere was an opportunity of testifying, in a\\ndelicate manner, his sense of that generous\\nuncle s past kindnesses. In an instant his\\nhand was in his pocket a number of choice\\nand costly tulip roots were purchased and\\npacked up for Mr. Contarine; and it was not\\nuntil he had paid for them that he bethought\\nhimself that he had spent all the money bor-\\nrowed for his traveling expenses.\\nHe Traveled on Foot,\\nToo proud, however, to give up his jour-\\nney, and too shamefaced to make another\\nappeal to his friend s liberality, he determined\\nto travel on foot, and depend upon chance\\nand good-luck for the means of getting for-\\nward and it is said that he actually set off\\non a tour of the Continent, in February,\\n1755, with but one spare shirt, a flute, and i\\nsingle guinea.\\nAmong the many stories told of President\\nLincoln the following deserves a worthy\\nplace Hon. Thaddeus Stevens called with\\nan elderly lady in great trouble, whose son\\nhad been in the army, but for some offence\\nhad been court-martialed and sentenced\\neither to death or imprisonment. After a\\nfull hearing, the President proceeded to exe-\\ncute the paper granting pardon. The grati-\\ntude of the mother was too deep for expres-", "height": "3497", "width": "2526", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0420.jp2"}, "421": {"fulltext": "GRATITUDE.\\n385\\nsion, save by her tears, and not a word was\\nsaid between her and Mr. Stevens until they\\nwere half way down the stairs when she\\nsuddenly broke forth in an excited manner\\nwith the words, I knew it was a copper-\\nhead lie What do you refer to, madam\\nasked Mr. Stevens. Why, they told me he\\nwas an ugly-looking man, she replied, with\\nvehemence. He is the handsomest man I\\never saw in my life\\nThe Prophet s Reply.\\nIt is related that a Bedouin woman,\\nmounted on a dromedary, ran toward Ma-\\nhomet. The enemy, said she, have\\ni .eized upon my flock, that I was pasturing\\nin the desert; I mounted this dromedary,\\nand made a vow to immolate it in your\\npresence to God should I succeed in escaping\\nthrough its speed. I come to fulfil the\\nvow. But, said the prophet, smiling,\\nwould it not be ingratitude to the generous\\nanimal to whom thou owest thy safety?\\nThy vow is null, because it is unjust; the\\nanimal which thou has consecrated to me is\\nthine no more, it is mine I gave it in trust\\nto thee go and console thy family.\\nFew incidents are more pathetic than one\\nnarrated in our nation s early annals. Dur-\\ning our Revolutionary War, eighty old\\nGerman soldiers, who, after having long\\nserved under different monarchs in Europe,\\nhad retired to America and converted their\\nswords into plowshares, voluntarily formed\\nthemselves into a company, and distinguished\\nthemselves in various actions in the cause of\\nIndependence. The captain was nearly one\\nhundred years, had been in the army forty\\nyears, and present in seventeen battles. The\\ndrummer was ninety-four, and the youngest\\nman in the corps on the verge of seventy.\\nInstead of a cockade, each man wore a\\npiece of black crape, as a mark of sorrow for\\nbeing obhged, at so advanced a period of\\nhfe, to bear arms. But, said the veterans,\\nwe should be deficient in gratitude, if we\\ndid not act in defense of a country which has\\nafforded us a generous asylum, and protected\\nus from tyranny and oppression. Such a\\nband of soldiers never before perhaps ap-\\npeared on the field of battle.\\nHow delightful the ability as well as the\\ndisposition to confer favors What pleasure\\nit must afford the rich and the powerful to\\nrelieve the wants and soothe the sufferings of\\nthe poor! The recollection of such conduct\\nis calculated to sweeten every hour of after\\nexistence. What reflections could be more\\nfelicitous than those caused by having rescued\\nsome erring child of humanity from a down-\\nward career having brightened the hearth\\nof some lonely and impoverished widow\\nhaving averted the bankruptcy of some friend\\n-^having tendered a loan at the moment it\\nwas least expected and most desired having\\nappeared as a messenger of generosity and\\njoy; when, to the sufferer, all the world\\nseemed mercenary and heartless!\\nTears of Gratitude.\\nThe Pleasures of Philanthropy are yet\\nto be described. But volumes might be\\nproduced by some competent mind and\\nheart upon such a fruitful subject. We once\\nhappened to enter the sick chamber of an\\nestimable citizen, who had been unable, in\\nconsequence of severe illness, to attend to his\\nbusiness affairs for some weeks. We found\\nhis wife overcome by some sudden act of kind-\\nness, and shedding tears of gratitude and\\njoy. We inquired the cause, and ascertained\\nthat a neighbor who had called before had\\njust paid a visit, and, apprehensive that the\\npecuniary affairs of the sick man might be\\nin some confusion, he had made a generous\\ntender of his purse, satisfied, he said, that all", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0421.jp2"}, "422": {"fulltext": "386\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nwould be well again in a short time, but\\nanxious to prevent distress under any cir-\\ncumstances.\\nThe relief was not needed, but the act was\\nso full of touching and disinterested kindness,\\nthat the wife was quite overcome, and show-\\nered blessings upon the head of the worthy\\nindividual referred to. This was, indeed,\\ntrue benevolence, genuine liberality a golden\\ndeed among the many hollow and sounding\\nacts of this working-day world. It is con-\\nduct like this that elevates our race allies\\nthe nature of man to that of superior beings.\\nThey Avoid Display.\\nAnd such cases are by no means rare.\\nThey seldom find their way into the public\\nprints, for the truly benevolent are modest\\nand retiring, and shrink from all display and\\nostentation. When they give, they do so\\nquietly, satisfied with the consciousness of\\ndoing good.\\nBut, alas for the weakness and the vicious-\\nness of human nature. How often does it\\nhappen that favors are sources of anxiety\\nrather than of pleasure, because of the\\ningratitude of mankind. How often do they\\nconvert friends into enemies, make individuals\\nhate their benefactors, simply because of that\\nvicious, selfish passion of the human heart,\\nwhich, under a sense of obligation, begets\\na feeling of rancor even amongst the most\\nintimate friends.\\nDo you not know such cases, gentle\\nreader? Have you not experienced this\\nstrange perversity Can you not call to\\nmind some individual who is indebted to\\nyou for a kindness, a favor, a loan, and who\\nhas grown colder and colder from day to\\nday and from year to year, until he is now\\nan enemy rather than a friend Have you\\nnot also seen cases in which the obhgation,\\nat first regarded as kindly and generous in\\nan eminent degree, was afterward derided,\\ncontemned, and attributed to improper\\nmotives\\nWhat fiend is more marble-hearted than\\nIngratitude? How strange it is that indi-\\nviduals so circumstanced can revile or assail\\ntheir benefactors How dark and deplor-\\nable a feature of the human heart! And\\nyet its existence how few will deny! The\\nungrateful man is, indeed, a disgrace to\\nhum.anity. He is neither entitled to sym-\\npathy nor respect. He not only injuries\\nhimself, but he excites distrust as to mankind\\nat large, and checks the hand of generosity\\nwhen about to act in the most liberal spirit.\\nA Quick Response.\\nBut all, thank Heaven! are not so. All\\ndo not yield to this demon of our evil nature.\\nThere are many who i:e grateful for the\\nsmallest favors, who appreciate and remem-\\nber acts of kindness and goodwill till the\\nlatest hour of existence. Nothing so de-\\nlights them as an opportunity to reciprocate.\\nThey are never so happy as when acknowl-\\nedging and repaying a kindness. They are\\ntrue to the best impulses of generosity and\\njustice, and they love their fellow-creatures\\nwith a spirit of brotherhood and affection.\\nWe have known individuals who years\\nafter some slight favor had been conferred,\\nand when it was forgotten by the benefactor,\\nreturned it gladly and eagerly a hundred fold.\\nThe cup of water given in the right spirit to\\nthe beggar who knocks at our door, the\\ncrumb that falls from the table, the alms,\\nhowever, trifling all have their uses and\\ntheir reward. Let no one be deterred from\\nthe exercise of charity, because in his pro-\\ngress through life he has encountered many\\nan instance of black ingratitude. Let not\\nthe innocent suffer for the guilty\\nWe hold to the faith that no act of hu-", "height": "3481", "width": "2536", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0422.jp2"}, "423": {"fulltext": "GRATITUDE.\\n387\\nmanity, no word of kindness, no smiie of\\nbenevolence, is altogether valueless or lost.\\nWe may not see the effect to-day. It may\\nescape our observation entirely. But it will,\\nnevertheless, have existence. It is our duty,\\nat least, to act in a generous, a benevolent\\nand a Christian spirit, satisfied that there is\\nOne who penetrates far deeper than any\\nhuman foresight and notes not only every\\ndeed, but every thought of the great human\\nfamily.\\nUnselfish Givers.\\nIt is not too much to say that the majority\\nof people are too slow in expressing grati-\\ntude for favors received. They are willing\\nto get the benefits and frequently willing to\\ntake them as if they had a right to them.\\nWhen it comes to real thankfulness they\\nhalt or they forget. There are few, indeed,\\nwho have not at one time or another\\nreceived favors which placed them under\\nimmense obligations to the giver. That\\ngiver may not have been selfish, may not\\nhave expected any return, may have be-\\nstowed kindness as freely as the bursting\\nfountain cools your lip, yet why should not\\ngratitude be his reward And how much\\nmore noble to be thankful and express the\\nthankfulness\\nThis nation of ours owes a tremendeous\\ndebt of gratitude to the heroes and patriots\\nwho have made it what it is. Their memory\\nshould be cherished more than this, during\\nthe life of such men they should receive the\\ngratitude that is their due. A^fter they pass\\ninto history, after their majestic figures are\\nseen among us no more, and we begin to\\nunderstand the great loss we have sustained,\\nthen we talk about their virtues, we puff\\nthem in newspapers, we tell of their achieve-\\nments, and put up a monument here and\\nthere on some corner of the street to pre-\\nserve the memory of their brilliant deeds\\nand express our national gratitude. Would\\nit not be well to let them know while living\\nhow much they are appreciated\\nIngratitude to Public Men.\\nLincoln dies, and is borne away to his\\ngrave with funeral pomp, and the road he\\ntravels in death is strewn with flowers and\\nwarmed with tears. Yet what harsh criti-\\ncisms, what sharp attacks, what sullen dis-\\napproval he was compelled to meet. There\\nwas an attempt to recompense General\\nGrant during his life for services he had ren-\\ndered. Something has been said about a\\nhouse in St. Louis, and another in Philadel-\\nphia. Yet all that was done for him and all\\nthat was done by southern states for their\\ngreat generals and statesmen does not dis-\\nprove the old sad saying that republics are\\nungrateful. A score of men have died in\\nas many years who in Great Britian would\\nhave been titled and placed among the num-\\nber of those whose glorious deeds are ap-\\npreciated and rewarded. After all, let us not\\nforget that they are the greatest who toil and\\nsuffer and practice self-denial for its own\\nsake. They have an inward satisfaction, and\\nthis is their recompense. Let us learn the\\nlesson of faithful duty and honest service,\\neven if we are never cheered by one emotion\\nof gratitude from those around us. Then,\\nwe shall suffer no disappointments. The\\nconsciousness that we have acted well our\\npart will be sufficient. Let us be like that\\nteacher who had two pupils with opposite\\ndispositions one was a bullet-headed boy\\nof tough fibre, dull of brain and sullen in\\ndisposition, who, in addition to slighting all\\nhis lessons, took every occasion to annoy\\nhis teacher and make her work unpleasant.\\nThe other was an affectionate and sensitivt\\ngirl who greeted her every morning with a", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0423.jp2"}, "424": {"fulltext": "388\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nsmile and some little gift of flowers plucked\\nfrom the garden or the wayside. Her whole\\ndeportment seemed to say I thank you for\\nyour kindness and all you are doing for me.\\nYet in the gloomy hour of sickness the\\nteacher wished especially to see that boy.\\nHe came by her request. She seemed to\\nhave forgotten all his waywardness. She\\nsaid nothing of his misconduct. She looked\\ninto his eyes and told him of her interest\\nand love. Very grateful to her were the\\nlittle gifts one pupil had bestowed, and no\\nless grateful was the softening of that boy s\\nheart. In his rough way he said Thank\\nyou, teacher; you ve been very good to\\nme. This was the turning-point in that\\nboy s life, and he might never have reached\\nit if his teacher had not known how to work\\non regardless of reward.\\nCarries its Own Reward.\\nThe sense of gratitude, the feeling that it\\nsTiould be cherished and expressed is com-\\nmon to all persons it is born with us and\\nit may truly be said is one of the finest ele-\\nments of character.\\nThere is a not a more pleasing exercise of\\nthe mind than gratitude. It is accompanied\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0with such an inward satisfaction that the\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2duty is sufficiently rewarded by the perform-\\nance. It is not, like the practice of many\\nother virtues, difficult and painful, but att en-\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2ded with so much pleasure, that were there\\nTio positive command which enjoined it, nor\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0any recompense laid up for it hereafter,\\na generous mind would indulge in it for the\\nnatural gratification that accompanies it.\\nIf gratitude is due from man to man, how\\nmuch more from man to his Maker The\\nSupreme Being does not confer us those\\nbounties which proceed more immediately\\nfrom his hand, but even those benefits which\\nare conveyed to us by others. Every bless-\\ning we enjoy, by what means soever it may\\nbe derived upon us, is the gift of Him who is\\nthe Author of good and Father of mercies.\\nIf gratitude when exerted towards another\\nnaturally produces a very pleasing sensation\\nin the mind of a grateful man, it exalts the\\nsoul into rapture when it is employed on this\\ngreat object of gratitude, on this beneficent\\nBeing who has given us everything we\\nalready possess, and from whom we expect\\neverything we yet hope for.\\nInstinct of Gratitude.\\nHe that has nature in him must be grateful\\nTis the Creator s primary great law,\\nThat links the chain of beings to each other,\\nJoining the greater to the lesser nature,\\nTying the weak and strong, the poor and powerful.\\nSubduing men to brutes, and even brutes to men.\\nSamuei^ Madan.\\nWhy should not the heart be always\\nthankful, for there is a faith which all may\\npossess that assures us our lives are well\\nordered and protected.\\nAll s for the Best.\\nAll s for the best be sanguine and cheerful.\\nTroubles and sorrows are friends in disguise.\\nNothing but folly goes faithless and fearful.\\nCourage forever is happy and wise\\nAll s for the best if a man could but know it\\nProvidence wishes us all to be blest\\nThis is no dream of the pundit or poet.\\nHeaven is gracious, and all s for the best\\nAll s for the best set this on your standard,\\nSoldier of sadness, or pilgrim of love,\\nWho to the shores of despair may have wandered,\\nA wayfaring swallow or heart-stricken dove.\\nAll s for the best be a man, but confiding,\\nProvidence tenderly governs the rest.\\nAnd the frail bark of his creatures is guiding,\\nWisely and warily, all s for the best\\nAll s for the best then fling away terrors.\\nMeet ail your fears and loss in the van.\\nAnd in the midst of your dangers or errors,\\nTrust like a child, while you strive like a man.", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0424.jp2"}, "425": {"fulltext": "GRATITUDE.\\nAll s for the best unbiassed, unbounded,\\nProvidence reigns from the east to the west,\\nAnd by both wisdom and mercy surrounded,\\nHope and be happy, for all s for the best\\nA fine example of royal gratitude was that\\nof Charles II, related by Hood in his Life\\nof Cromwell. Richard Penderel, Charles\\nintroduced to his Court, saying, The sim-\\nplest rustic who serves his sovereign in the\\ntime of need to the utmost extent of his\\nabiHty i.= as deserving of our commendation\\nas the victorious leader of thousands.\\nFriend Richard, continued the king, I\\nam glad to see thee thou wert my pre-\\nserver and conductor, the bright star that\\nshowed me to my Bethlehem, for which\\nkindness I will engrave thy memory on the\\ntablet of a faithful heart. Turning to the\\nlords, the king said, My lords, I pray you\\nrespect this good man for my sake. Master\\nRichard, be bold and tell these lords what\\npassed among us when I had quitted the\\noak at Boscobel to reach Pit Leason.\\nWhen Charles had been defeated he was\\naided in making his escape to France by\\nPenderel\\nThere is an old fable of a man who saw\\nan adder lying on the ground, benumbed\\nwith cold and nearly dead. His pity was\\nmoved and he thought he would try and\\nsave the reptile s life. He took it up, placed\\nit in his bosom and soon restored it by the\\nwarmth of his own body. What did the\\nreptile do then but turn upon its benefactor,\\nstrike its poisonous fangs into his breast and\\ngive him a death-wound? The one who had\\nsaved the life of the venomous adder lost his\\nown.\\nThe old fable gives this as an illustration\\nof ingratitude. You can see at a glance its\\ntruthfulness and force. How many there\\nare who have received undeserved benefits,\\nand then, with, the demonish .spirit of malice,\\nturn and rend their benefactors. This is not\\nhuman. It is the spirit of the adder which,\\nhaving received the kindness of the one\\nwho sought to save its life, buried its fangs\\nin the very bosom that warmed it.\\nTo be thankful is not only pleasant to the\\none who has bestowed the gift it is a sweet\\nsatisfaction to the one who is grateful. This\\ndisposition is among those virtues the exer-\\ncise of which has been ordained for our\\ninward satisfaction and peace. We are thus\\nplaced on a level with the noblest characters\\nand our life blossoms into beauty. May a\\nkind Providence save us from ever being\\nchilled by ingratitude. What the frost is\\nto the violet and the lily, an unthankful\\nspirit is to our best endeavors and intentions.\\nThe great master of the human heart,\\nShakespeare, exclaims, Ingratitude thou\\nmarble-hearted fiend And again: How\\nsharper than a serpent s teeLh it is to have a\\nthankless child. No one will dispute the\\ntruth here stated it i.i recognized in all the\\nwalks of life. Gratitude is an angel that\\nflies with wings, and whose face wears the\\nsmile of heaven. Ingratitude is a demon,\\ndark and malicious, from whom all noble\\nnatures recoil. It throws a shadow over\\nevery hfe that comes within its influence..", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0425.jp2"}, "426": {"fulltext": "SELF-SACRIFICE.\\n390", "height": "3500", "width": "2529", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0426.jp2"}, "427": {"fulltext": "chapte:r XXV.\\nSELF=SACRIFICE.\\n^J^^^^r OU cannot gain without giving,\\nv?^^^^^/^ You cannot obtain without ex-\\n^/\u00e2\u0096\u00a0\\\\Cv pending. You must sacrifice\\n^\u00c2\u00a7^^^c^ yourself if you would make the\\njf^ most of yourself. There is a\\ngeneral law in the world which\\nrequires a yielding up, an outlay before the\\nbest things, before anything, indeed, can be\\nbrought to pass. There is a cost that is\\nalways demanded; there is an expenditure\\nthat must be made.\\nThe illustrations of this principle are on\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2every side of us. Bread is one of our most\\ncommon articles of food. Kingdoms are\\nIcingdoms because of bread. It is the staff\\nof hfe. It enters into blood and brain.\\nWe get the bread from flour, flung from the\\nhiopper of the noisy mill. It comes from\\nwheat, and what does wheat come from?\\nIt costs a seed to get a stalk of wheat, and\\nthat seed must give itself, must go into the\\nground and die. It cannot save itself; the\\nattempt would make it a useless thing. Take\\nthis country of ours and other countries\\ntogether, and millions of acres of wheat are\\nsown in the autumn. The seed, the dying\\nseed withhold that, and you would cut off\\nthe next year s harvest. Save all the kernels\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0of the grape, never plant any, and no new\\nvine with tangled tendrils and purple clusters\\nwould ever grow. It takes the plough and\\nharrow, the soaking rains and gentle sun-\\nshine, to get a field of wheat. More than\\nthis, it takes the dying seed.\\nThere is a law in the universe that things\\nmust be sacrificed before they can show what\\nis in them and what they are good for\\nnothing can be gained, nothing can be done\\nwithout cost.\\nHow do you think the surrounding coun-\\ntry looked when William Penn sailed up the\\nDelaware? A wilderness then, its paths\\ntrodden by the red men, its tree-tops the\\nhome of the eagle. Then the gloom of the\\ndeep wild forest now the beauty of the\\nlandscape! Then the bark villages of the\\nIndian now the throbbing life of busy\\ncities It has cost something to make the\\ntransformation there has been a tremendous\\noutlay. It has cost time and labor and\\nmoney. The iron and steel gave themselves\\nfor the ax the men gave the strength of\\narm that swung it. The trees gave them-\\nselves that there might be a harvest, and so,\\ntoo, the rich soil gave itself. Think what\\ncutting, slashing, upturning, ploughing, sow-\\ning, building, cultivating, there must have\\nbeen think what forces of brain and arm,\\nand unceasing toil, were engaged to tran;;-\\nfigure this land and make it so fair. And\\nhere it is true again that to get something,\\nsomething must be given.\\nSelf Cannot be Favored.\\nIt is wonderful how this one thought that\\nthings cannot be saved, that they must give\\nthemselves up, runs through everything.\\nWould you have a successful business? It\\nwill cost you care and anxiety, labor and\\ncapital; you cannot save yourself. Would\\nyou be a scholar? It will cost you the\\nclosest study and application, and perhaps\\n391", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0427.jp2"}, "428": {"fulltext": "392\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nmany a headache and weary hour. Would\\nyou be a fine piano player? It will cost you\\nunremitting practice and steady perseverance;\\nand even then, perhaps, yon will feel like\\ntelling people that you never play. Would\\nyou be a stenographer and able to catch the\\nburning thoughts that flow from the lips of\\nthe orator? Or would you be the orator\\nholding listening thousands spellbound?\\nYour time, your effort, your earnestness of\\npurpose alone can do it. There must always\\nbe an outlay. There is no escaping the cost.\\nSacrifice is th^, grand secret of success.\\nAlexander s Thirsty Army.\\nWhen the army of Alexander the Great\\nwas marching against Darius, in crossing the\\ndeserts they often suffered more for want of\\nwater than by fatigue; many of the cavalry\\nwere unable to hold out. While they were\\nupon the march some Macedonians had\\nfilled their bottles at a river, and were bring-\\ning the water upon mules. These people,\\nseeing Alexander greatly distressed with\\nthirst (for it was in the heat of the day),\\nimmediately filled a helmet with water, and\\npresented it to him.\\nHe asked them to whom they were carry-\\ning it, and they said, Our sons; but if our\\nprince does but live, we shall get other chil-\\ndren, if we lose them. Upon this he took\\nthe helmet in his hands; but looking round,\\nand seeing all the horsemen bending their\\nheads, and fixing their eyes upon the water,\\nhe returned it without drinking. However,\\nhe praised the people that offered it, and\\nsaid, If I alone drink, these good men will\\nbe dispirited. The cavalry, who were wit-\\nnesses to this act of temperance and mag-\\nnanimity, cried out, Let us march We\\nare neither weary nor thirsty, nor shall we\\neven think ourselves mortal, while under the\\nconduct of such a king. At the same time\\nthey put spurs to their horses and dash\\naway with fresh courage.\\nSays Atterbury A good man not only\\nforbears those gratifications which are for-\\nbidden by reason and religion, but even\\nrestrains himself in unforbidden instances.\\nSays Robert Hall: The opportunities ot\\nmaking great sacrifices for the good of man-\\nkind are of rare occurrence, and he who\\nremains inactive till it is in his power to\\nconfer signal benefits or yield important\\nservices is in. imminent danger of incurring\\nthe doom of the slothful servant. It is the\\npreference of duty to inclination in the ordi-\\nnary course of life, it is the practice of self-\\ndenial in a thousand little instances, which\\nforms the truest test of character, and secures\\nthe honor and the reward of those who live\\nnot to themselves.\\nTeach self-denial, and make its practice\\npleasurable, and you create for the world a\\ndestiny more sublime than ever issued from\\nthe brain of the wildest dreamer.\\nGiving and Living.\\nForever the sun is pouring his gold\\nOn a hundred woiflds that beg and borrow\\nHis warmth he squanders on summits cold,\\nHis wealth, on the homes of want and sorrow.\\nTo withhold his largess of precious light\\nIs to bury himself in eternal night\\nTo give is to live.\\nThe flower shines not for itself at all,\\nIts joy is the joy it freely diffuses\\nOf beauty and balm it is prodigal.\\nAnd it lives in the life it sweetly loses.\\nNo choice for the rose but glory or doom\\nTo exhale or smother, to wither or bloom\\nTo deny is to die.\\nThe seas lend silvery rain to the land,\\nThe laud its sapphire streams to the ocean\\nThe heart sends blood to the brain of commapd,\\nThe brain to the heart its constant motion\\nAnd over and over we yield our breath\\nTill the mirror is dry and images death\\nTo live is to gire.", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0428.jp2"}, "429": {"fulltext": "SELF-SACRIFICE.\\n393\\nHe IS dead whose hand is not opened wide\\nTo help the need of sister or brother\\nHe doubles the worth of his life-long ride\\nWho gives his fortunate place to another\\nNot one, but a thousand lives are his\\nWho carries the world in his sympathies\\nTo deny is to die.\\nThrow gold to the far-dispersing wave,\\nAnd your ships sail home with tons of treasure\\nCare not for comfort, all hardships brave.\\nAnd evening and age shall sup with pleasure\\nFling health to the sunshine, wind and rain,\\nAnd roses shall come to the cheek again\\nTo give is to live.\\nSays Sir Walter Scott There never did\\nand never v/ill exist anything permanently\\nnoble and excellent in a character which was\\na stranger to the exercise of resolute self-\\ndenial.\\nBut if there were no such consideration as\\nthe good effect which self-denial has upon\\nthe sense of other men towards us, it is of\\nall qualities the most desirable for the agree-\\nable disposition in which it places our own\\nminds. I cannot tell what better to say of\\nit than that it is the very contrary of ambi-\\ntion and that modesty allays all those pas-\\nsions and inquietudes to which that vice ex-\\nposes us.\\nHow Pleasures are Doubled.\\nHe that is moderate in his wishes, from\\nreason and choice, and not resigned from\\nsourness, distate or disappointment, doubles\\nall the pleasures of his life. The air, the\\nseason, a sunshiny day, or a fair prospect,\\nare instances of happiness and that which\\nhe enjoys in common with all the world (by\\nhis exemption from the enchantments by\\nwhich all the world are bewitched), are to\\nhim uncommon benefits and new acquisi-.\\ntions. Health is not eaten up with care, nor\\npleasure interrupted by envy.\\nThe great foundation of civil virtue is self-\\ndenial and there is no one above the neces-\\nsities of life, but has opportunities of exer-\\ncising that noble quality, and doing as much\\nas his circumstances will bear for the ease and\\nconvenience of other men and he who does\\nmore than ordinary men practice upon such\\noccasions as occur in his life, deserves the\\nvalue of his friends, as if he had done enter-\\nprises which are usually attended with the\\nbrightest glory. Men of public spirit differ\\nrather in their circumstances than their\\nvirtue and the man who does all he can, in\\na low station, is more a hero than he who\\nomits any worthy action he is able to accom-\\nplish in a great one.\\nHe Caught the Contagion.\\nThe great philanthropist, John Howard,\\nliterally died in the act of showing forth his\\nself-sacrificing spirit. A lady some distance\\naway was very ill, and wished to see him.\\nBeing sent for, he was determined to go.\\nThe rain was falling in torrents a cold\\nDecember rain and the wind was blowing\\na gale. As he could not, without much\\ndelay, procure a vehicle, he mounted an old\\ndray horse and rode the twenty-four miles\\nthrough the tempest. He arrived to find\\nhis patient dying of hospital fever. He\\ntried, however, some powerful medicines\\nupon her, with a view to excite perspiration\\nand, in order to ascertain whether they were\\nproducing the wished-for-efifect, he lifted the\\nbedclothes and felt of her arm.\\nAs he did so, the effluvia from her body\\nwas so offensive that he could scarcely en-\\ndure it. She died soon after, and he returned\\nto Cherson. Three days later he was seized\\nwith the same fever. The exhaustion cf his\\nlong and painful ride, and the shock to his\\nfeelings at finding his patient in the agonies\\nof death, had rendered his system liable to\\nthe contagion, which had struck him, as he\\nbelieved, at the moment of his lifting the", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0429.jp2"}, "430": {"fulltext": "394\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nbedclothes. Yet he did not regret his efforts\\nto befriend a poor, dying woman.\\nMacaulay pays a glowing tribute to the\\nJesuits who risked their lives in the effort to\\nminister to those who were stricken with a\\nplague When in our time a new and ter-\\nrible pestilence passed round the globe\\nwhen in some great cities fear had dissolved\\nall the ties which hold society together;\\nwhen the secular clergy had deserted their\\nflocks when medical succor was not to be\\npurchased by gold when the strongest\\nnatural affections had yielded to the love of\\nlife, even then the Jesuit was found by the\\npallet which bishop and curate, physician\\nand nurse, father and mother had deserted,\\nbending over infected lips to catch the faint\\naccents of confession, and holding up to the\\nlast, before the expiring penitent, the image\\nof the expiring Redeemer.\\nGrecian Patriotism.\\nThe pages of history are luminous and\\nbright with examples of self-sacrifice. It\\nshines out boldly in every great national\\ncrisis. The story of Greece, her victories\\nand achievements, is one glowing tribute to\\nthis principle. The world will never cease\\nto wonder at the valor which has made\\nThermopylae one of the most famous names\\nin history. Tennyson has celebrated in\\nsong the headlong charge of the six hun-\\ndred.\\nCannon to right of them,\\nCannon to left of them\\nVolleyed and thundered\\nInto the jaws of death\\nRode the six hundred.\\nBut history affords no such record as that\\nof the three hundred who not only risked\\nbut gave their lives in defence of Greece. I\\nam not eager to applaud battle deeds, yet\\nthere are times when patriotism rises to the\\nheight of sublimity, and the man who dares\\nand suffers is earth s grandest hero.\\nAnd, speaking of the ancient Greeks, a\\nsentiment prevailed among them which\\ntaught that self must be ignored for the\\npublic good, and home and country were\\nworth dying for. In Sparta, Lycurgus taught\\nhis citizens to think nothing more disagree-\\nable than to live by (or for) themselves.\\nLike bees, they acted with one impulse for\\nthe public good, and always assembled\\nabout their prince. They were possessed\\nwith a thirst of honor and enthusiasm bor-\\ndering upon insanity, and had not a wish\\nbut for their country. These sentiments are\\nconfirmed by some of their aphorisms.\\nWhen Paedaretus lost his election for one of\\nthe three hundred, he went away rejoicing\\nthat there were three hundred better men\\nthan himself found in the city. Pisistratides\\ngoing with some others, ambassador to the\\nKing of Persia s lieutenants, was asked\\nwhether they came with a public commis-\\nsion or on their own account, to which he\\nanswered, If successful, for the public if\\nunsuccessful, for ourselves.\\nA Virginian Hero.\\nMr. Bancroft, in his history of the United\\nStates, pays a handsome tribute to one of\\nthe forerunners of the American Revolution,\\na man who had the courage of his convic-\\ntions, and did not count the cost of standing\\nmanfully by them. This man was Thomas\\nHansford, who was accounted a rebel in\\n1676, a hundred years before the Declara-\\ntion of Independence. He stoutly denied\\nthat what was charged on him as rebellion\\nwas anything less than a duty and the\\nnoblest virtue. He was apprehended, tried\\nand convicted. It was not the most politic\\nthing to condemn him to death, for it might\\nhave been known that this act would create", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0430.jp2"}, "431": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0431.jp2"}, "432": {"fulltext": "596\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nsympathy for him and would be the fruitful\\nseed from which a host of brave spirits\\nwould spring.\\nThe day of his execution arrived. Take\\nnotice, said he, as he came to the gibbet,\\nI die a loyal subject and a lover of my\\ncountry. That country was Virginia. Says\\nBancroft: Hansford perished, the first\\nnative American on the gallows, a martyr\\nto the right of the people to govern them-\\nselves.\\nPointed to His own House.\\nVirginia furnished another noble soul who\\nillustrates the same spirit this was Thomas\\nNelson, governor of the state. The British\\ntroops were occupying Yorktown, which\\nwas besieged by the Revolutionary army.\\nGovernor Nelson had his residence at York-\\ntown, and one would suppose that he would\\nhave been anxious to protect it. The Fed-\\neral troops were bombarding the town, when\\nGeneral Lafayette said to Nelson, To what\\nparticular spot would your Excellency direct\\nthat we point the cannon? There,\\npromptly replied the noble-minded patriot\\nto that house it is mine and is the best\\none you can find in the town there you\\nwill be most certain to find Lord Cornwallis\\nand the British headquarters. This incident\\nis narrated in Custis hfe of Washington, a\\nvolume which contains many thrilling anec-\\ndotes that show the self-sacrificing spirit of\\nthose early heroes who by their toils and\\nsufferings laid the foundation of our national\\nlife and glory.\\nAs reference has often been made to Wash-\\nington, it is appropriate to quote here a ref-\\nerence to him by the historian Knight. It\\nis as follows When George Washington\\naccepted his commission from the Conti-\\nnental Congress as commander-in-chief of\\nthe American army he said no pecuniary\\nconsideration could have tempted him to\\naccept this arduous employment at the ex-\\npense of his domestic ease and happiness\\nhe had no desire to make a profit by it. He\\nwould take no pay. He would keep an\\nexact account of his expenses, and those he\\ndoubted not would be discharged.\\nHere the true spirit of the great com-\\nmander and Father of His Country\\nshines resplendently forth. Not taking him-\\nself into account, not asking what would be\\nhis personal gain, not seeking any selfish\\nadvantage, believing that the holy cause was\\nworth more than any man s life, he staked\\nall, and, if he had been unwiUing to do it,\\nhe never could have been George Washing-\\nton. While men chisel marble, while poets\\nsing and hearts are thrilled by noble deeds,\\nthe names of those who by self-denial and\\nfaithful service gave to this land of ours its\\nmultiferious blessings and splendid oppor-\\ntunities will be wreathed with fame and\\ncherished with gratitude.\\nCradle of Our Nation.\\nIn the old Independence Hall in Philadel-\\nphia there is a portrait gallery of the founders\\nof the nation. The venerable Hall is a\\nshrine to which a crowd of feet is always\\npressing. Here old and young alike stand\\nin hush of spirit, and gaze upon the nation s\\nmemorials. It is a sacred spot. Here is the\\ncradle in which the republic was rocked.\\nWhy should persons from every part of the\\nland visit this famous building and look with\\nawe upon the faces hung upon its walls,\\nexcept for the spirit of sacrifice and devotion\\nassociated with these men of Revolutionary\\nfame We give to them our heart s homage,\\nbecause they gave all for liberty.\\nBefore passing from these historic exam-\\nples let me mention one from the historian\\nGibbon. It is related by him that the Sara-", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0432.jp2"}, "433": {"fulltext": "SELF-SACRIFICE.\\n597\\ncens besieged the cities of Beneventum and\\nCapua after a vain appeal to the successors\\nof Charlemagne, the Lombards implored the\\nclemency and aid of the Greek emperor. A\\nfearless citizen dropped from the walls, passed\\ntheintrenchments, accomplished his commis-\\nsion,, and fell into the hands of the bar-\\nbarians as he was returning with the welcome\\nnews. They commanded him to assist their\\nenterprise, and deceive his countrymen, with\\nthe assurance that wealth and honors should\\nbe the reward of his falsehood, and that his\\nsincerity would be punished with immediate\\ndeath.\\nStabbed by a Hundred Spears.\\nHe affected to yield, but as soon as he\\nwas conducted within hearing of the Chris-\\ntians on the rampart, Friends and breth-\\nren, he cried, with a loud voice, be bold\\nand patient maintain the city your sover-\\neign is informed of your distress, and your\\ndeliverers are at hand. I know my doom,\\nand commit my wife and children to your\\ngratitude. The rage of the Arabs con-\\nfirmed his evidence ai)d the self-devoted\\npatriot was transpierced with a hundred\\nspears.\\nA recent author, speaking of Prince Bis-\\nmarck, says He adopted it as the aim of\\nhis pubhc life to snatch Germany from\\nAustrian oppression, and to gather round\\nPrussia, in a North German Confederation,\\nall the States whose tone of thought, relig-\\nion, manners, and interests were in harmony\\nwith those of Prussia. To attain this end,\\nhe once said in conversation, I would brave\\nall dangers exile, the scaffold itself What\\nmatter if they hang me, provided the rope\\nby which I am hung binds this new Germany\\nfirmly to the Prussian throne\\nHere is one main secret of Bismarck s\\npower, and his position and influence in the\\naffairs of Europe. He was more than king;\\narmies were less than he great national\\ntransactions took place by his consent; at\\nhis nod empires shook, all because Bismarck\\nwas nothing, and the welfare of his Father-\\nland was everything. No self-seeking man\\nconniving, contriving, ambitious, plotting,\\nbegging favor, nursing his own interests, ever\\ncould have reached the pinnacle of power on\\nwhich he stood. You are not a prince,\\nexcept in that noble sense that you are a\\nprince of toil. You carry sunburned hands\\nand wear clothes which have about them the\\nodor of the factory or the farm, but in your\\nsphere, wherever you find it, you can rise\\nabove yourself and by giving you can gain.\\nThe poet, WiUiam Wordsworth, is widely\\nknown by many of his productions, one\\nespecially. Its title is Ode to Duty.\\nTwo of its lines are well worth quoting\\nhere\\nGive unto me, made lowly wise,\\nThe spirit of self-sacrifice.\\nNeither Wordsworth nor any one else\\ncould write a eulogy upon duty, present-\\ning it in its truest and noblest character, and\\nleave out that self-sacrifice which makes the\\nman who shows it more than man and\\nrenders the world a better world.\\nNone Live to Themselves.\\nGod has written upon the flower that\\nsweetens the air, upon the breeze that rocks\\nthe flower upon its stem, upon the raindrops\\nthat swell the mighty river, upon the dew-\\ndrops that refresh the smallest sprig of moss\\nthat rears its head in the desert, upon the\\nocean that rocks every swimmer in its chan-\\nnel, upon every penciled shell that sleeps in\\nthe caverns of the deep, as well as upon the\\nmighty sun which warms and cheers the\\nmillions of creatures that live in his lis^ht", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0433.jp2"}, "434": {"fulltext": "39S\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nupon all he has written, None of us liveth\\nto himself.\\nDo you think it possible to understand\\nhow much better and brighter the world is\\nby reason of self-sacrifice In one of our\\neastern towns there once lived a lady, who\\nwas familiarly called the Mother of the\\nNeighborhood. It was worth something\\nto live in the neighborhood where this\\nwoman performed her deeds of charity. She\\nwas physically a noble speciman of woman-\\nhood. Health and strength were among her\\nenviable possessions. She could watch over\\nthe sick all night, and attend to her house-\\nhold duties during the day.\\nBeloved by All.\\nIt may as well be stated that she never\\nneglected her own affairs, never was absent\\nfrom her own kitchen or parlor, never failed\\nto dust a piece of furniture, because largely\\ndevoting her life to the good of others. She\\nwas the admiration of all more than this,\\nshe was beloved. The poor, yes, the rich\\nknew where to find a friend. It was as\\nnatural for her to bring sunlight and hope\\ninto dark dwellings as it was to breathe no\\neffort, no trouble, no holding back, but a\\nfree generous giving of self wherever her\\ngracious presence was needed. If there was\\na weary heart, a sick child, a poor sufferer\\nfrom any cause if misfortune had over-\\ntaken any family, there the Mother of the\\nNeighborhood was to be found.\\nShe was not an authoress. She never pre-\\nsided at female conventions. She never\\nmade a speech in public or rather her\\nbeautiful life was one long utterance which\\nwas more eloquent than speech. She was\\njust a plain, sensible, every day sort of a\\nwoman. There was something about her\\nwhich seemed to say, If I can help you,\\nnothing would give me greater pleasure.\\nAnd so, by her kindly deeds, she found a\\nplace in all hearts. Be assured that no po-\\nsition was more to be coveted than that of\\nthis plain sympathetic Mother of the\\nNeighborhood. Her biography has never\\nbeen written except here. Nor is it needful\\nthat it should be the best writing is that\\nwhich is made on human hearts. It is use-\\nless to attempt to eulogize such a woman or\\npraise her virtues. The pen is too cold and\\nthe ink is too thin. Those who knew her\\nand whose lives had been warmed by the\\nsunshine of her face and the love of her\\ngreat soul, are the living monuments to this\\nMother of the Neighborhood.\\nGrander than Queen.\\nDo not think for a moment I am drawing\\na fancy sketch. This lady was once real\\nflesh and blood. When she was translated,\\nwhen she passed through what we name\\ndeath rather, when she entered into life, a\\nshadow fell and that neighborhood was\\ndarkened. She might have been called\\nqueen, she might have graced courts with\\nher beauty and her jewels, but to be called\\nthe Mother of the Neighborhood, was a\\ngrander tribute than would have been the\\nname of queen. And so it comes about that\\nthe real heroines are to be found in everyc ay\\nlife. They are all about you. You do not\\nhave to advertise to discover them. You do\\nnot have to travel to overtake them.\\nCarving a Name.\\nI wrote my name upon the sand.\\nAnd trusted it would stand for aye\\nBut soon, alas the refluent sea\\nHad washed my feeble lines away.\\nI carved my name upon the wood,\\nAnd, after years, returned again\\nI missed the shadow of the tree\\nThat stretched of old upon the plain.\\nTo solid marble next my name\\nI gave as a perpetual trust", "height": "3497", "width": "2486", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0434.jp2"}, "435": {"fulltext": "SELF-SACRIFICE.\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0699\\nAn earthquake rent it to its base,\\nAnd now it lies o erlaid with dust.\\nAll these have failed. In wiser mood\\nI turn and ask myself, What then\\nIf I would have my name endure,\\nI ll write it on the hearts of men.\\nIn characters of living light,\\nFrom kindly words and actions wrought\\nAnd these, beyond the reach of time,\\nChall live immortal as my thought.\\nHoratio Alger.\\nHistory and poetry celebrate no sublimer\\nact of devotion than that of Albert G.\\nDrecker, the watchman of the Passaic River\\ndrawbridge on the New York and Newark\\nRailroad. The train was due, and he was\\nclosing the draw when his little child fell\\ninto the deep water. It would have been\\neasy enough to rescue him, if the father\\ncould have taken the time, but already the\\nthundering train was at hand. It was a\\ncruel agony. His child could be saved only\\nat the cost of other lives committed to his\\ncare. The brave man did his duty, but the\\nchild was drowned. The pass at Thermo-\\npylae was not more heroically kept.\\nThe Drawbridge Keeper.\\nDrecker, the drawbridge keepet, opened wide\\nThe dangerous gate to let the vessel through\\nHis little son was standing by his side,\\nAbove Passaic river, deep and blue\\nWhile in the distance, like a moan of pain,\\nWas heard the whistle of the coming train.\\nAt once brave Drecker worked to swing it back\\nThe gate-like bridge, that seems a gate of death\\nNearer and nearer, on the slender track.\\nCame the swift engine, puffing its white breath.\\nThen, with a shriek, the loving father saw\\nHis darling boy fall headlong from the draw.\\nEither at once down in the stream to spring\\nAnd save his son, and let the living freight\\nRush on to death, or to his work to cling.\\nAnd leave his boy unhelped to meet his fate\\nWhich should he do? Were you, as he was tried,\\nWould not your love outweight all else beside?\\nAnd yet the child to him was full a^ dear\\nAs yours may be to you the light of eyes,\\nA presence like a brighter atmosphere.\\nThe hoviseholdstar that shone in love s mild skies\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nYet side by side with duty, stern and grim.\\nEven his child become as nought to him.\\nFor Drecker, being great of soul, and true.\\nHeld to his work, and did not aid his boy.\\nWho, in the deep, dark water sank from view.\\nThen from the father s life went forth all joy\\nBut, as he fell back, pallid with his pain.\\nAcross the bridge, in safety, passed the train.\\nAnd yet the man was poor, and in his breast\\nFlowed no ancestral blood of king or lord;\\nTrue greatness needs no title and no crest\\nTo win from men just honor and reward\\nNobility is not of rank, but mind\\nAnd is inborn, and common in our kind.\\nHe is most noble whose humanity\\nIs least corrupted. To be just and good\\nThe birthright of the lowest born may be\\nSay what we can, we are one brotherhood.\\nAnd rich, or poor, or famous or unknown,\\nTrue hearts are noble, and true hearts alone.\\nHenry Abbey.\\nStory of a Naval Officer.\\nSir Alexander Ball was one of those great\\nmen who adorned the English navy at the\\nend of the last century. Though less known,\\nperhaps, to the present generation than sev-\\neral of his contemporaries, lie was inferior to\\nnone of them; and in many respects it would\\nbe difficult to name his equal. To bravery,\\ndecision and energy he added a sound judg-\\nment, a meditative mind, and the most\\nunwearied benevolence.\\nThe following anecdotes are from the\\npen of his friend, the poet, Coleridge. In\\na large party at the Grand Master s palace,\\nin Malta, I had observed a naval officer of\\ndistinguished merit listening to Sir A. Ball,\\nwhenever he joined in the conversation, with\\na mixed expression of awe and affection that\\ngave a more than common interest to so\\nmanly a countenance. This officer after-", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0435.jp2"}, "436": {"fulltext": "400\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nwards told me that he considered himself\\nindebted to Sir Alexander for that which was\\ndearer to him than his life.\\nWhen he was Lieutenant Ball, said he,\\nhe was the officer I accompanied in my\\nfirst boat expedition, being then a midship-\\nman, and only in my fourteenth year. As\\nwe were rowing up to the vessel which we\\nwere to attack, amid a discharge of musketry,\\nI was overpowered by fear, and seemed on\\nthe point of fainting away. Lieutenant Ball,\\nwho saw the condition I was in, placed him-\\nself close beside me, and still keeping his\\ncountenance directed towards the enemy,\\npressed my hand in the most friendly man-\\nner, and said in a low voice, Courage, my\\ndear boy, you will recover in a minute or\\nso; I was just the same when I first went\\nout in this way. Sir, added the officer to\\nme, it was as if an angel had put a new\\nsoul into me. With the feeling that I was\\nnot yet dishonored, the whole burden of\\nagony was removed and from that moment\\nI was as fearless and forward as the oldest\\nof the boat s crew.\\nI Will Not Leave You.\\nFor some time a coolness existed between\\nLord (then Captain) Nelson and Captain\\nBall. When both their ships were together,\\nclose off Minorca, Nelson s vessel was nearly\\ndisabled by a violent storm, and Captain Ball\\ntook it in tow, and used his best endeavors\\nto bring her into Port Mahon. Nelson,\\nbelieving that both ships would be lost,\\nrequested Captain Ball to let him loose, and\\non his refusal became impetuous, and enforced\\nhis demand with passionate threats. Captain\\nBall then took a speaking-trumpet, and\\ncalmly replied, I feel confident that I can\\nbring you in safe therefore I must not, and\\nby the help of the Almighty God I will not.\\nleave\\nyou\\nWhat he promised he per-\\nformed and after they were safely anchored.\\nNelson came on board of Ball s ship, and\\nembracing him with all the ardor of acknowl-\\nedgment, exclaimed, A friend in need is a\\nfriend indeed. This was the beginning of a\\nfirm and perfect friendship between these two\\ngreat men.\\nA Gallant Lad.\\nCaptain Boggs, of Varuna, tells a story of\\na brave boy who was on board his vessel\\nduring the bombardment of the forts on the\\nMisissippi River. The lad, who answered to\\nthe name of Oscar, was but thirteen years of\\nage, but had an old head on his shoulders,\\nand was alert and energetic. During the\\nhottest of the fire he was busily engaged in\\npassing ammunition to the gunners, and nar-\\nrowly escaped death when one of the terrific\\nbroadsides of the Varuna s antagonist was\\npoured in. Covered with dirt and begrimed\\nwith powder, he was met by Captain Boggs,\\nwho asked where he was going in such a\\nhurry. To get a passing-box, sir the\\nother one was smashed by a ball.\\nAnd so through the fight, the brave lad\\nheld his place and did his duty. When the\\nVaruna went down, Captain Boggs missed\\nthe boy, and thought he was among the\\nvictims of the battle. But a few minutes\\nafterwards he saw the lad gallantly swimming\\ntoward the wreck. Clambering on board of\\nCaptain Boggs boat, he threw his hand up\\nto his forehead, giving the usual salute, and\\nuttering only the words, All right, sir I\\nreport myself on board, passed coolly to\\nhis station.\\nJohn B. Gough used to narrate in his\\nown eloquent and thrilling way the story of\\nJohn Maynard, the brave hero who lost his\\nlife on Lake Erie in the successful endeavor\\nto save the lives on board the vessel, of\\nwhich he was the pilot. John Maynard was", "height": "3481", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0436.jp2"}, "437": {"fulltext": "SELF-SACRIFICE.\\n401\\na plain, unknown man, and probably no\\none ever imagined would exhibit such self-\\nsacrifice. Never will his story cease to\\nthrill the hearts of those who read it. It\\nhas been embodied in verse by Mr. Alger,\\nand we take pleasure here in presenting it to\\nthe reader.\\nJohn Maynard.\\nTwas on Lake Brie s broad expanse,\\nOne bright midsummer day,\\nThe gallant steamer Ocean Queen\\nSwept proudly on her way.\\nBright faces clustered on the deck,\\nOr leaning o er the side.\\nWatched carelessly the feathery foam.\\nThat flecked the rippling tide.\\nAh, who beneath that cloudless sky.\\nThat smiling bends serene,\\nCould dream that danger, awful, vast,\\nImpended o er the scene\\nCould dream that ere an hour had sped.\\nThat frame of sturdy oak\\nWould sink beneath the lake s blue waves,\\nBlackened with fire and smoke\\nA seaman sought the captain s side,\\nA moment whispered low\\nThe captain s swarthy face grew pale.\\nHe hurried down below.\\nAlas, too late Though quick and sharp\\nAnd clear his orders came,\\nNo human efforts could avail\\nTo quench the insidious flame.\\nThe bad news quickly reached the deck.\\nIt sped from lip to lip,\\nAnd ghastly faces everywhere\\nLooked from the doomed ship.\\nIs there no hope no chance of life?\\nA hundred lips implore\\nBut one, the captain made reply,\\nTo run the ship on shore.\\nA sailDr, whose heroic soul\\nThat hour should yet reveal\\nBy name John Maynard, eastern born\\nStood calmly at the wheel.\\nHead her south-east the captain shouts,\\nAbove the smothered roar.\\nHead her south-east -without delay\\nMake for the nearest shore\\nNo terror pales the helmsman s cheek.\\nOr clouds his dauntless eye,\\nAs in a sailor s measured tone\\nHis voice responds, Ay, Ay\\nThree hundred souls\u00e2\u0080\u0094 the steamer s freight\\nCrowd forward wild with fear.\\nWhile at the stern the dreadful flames\\nAbove the deck appear.\\nJohn Maynard watched the nearing flames.\\nBut still, with steady hand\\nHe grasped the wheel, and steadfastly\\nHe steered the ship to land.\\nJohn Maynard, with an anxious voice.\\nThe captain cries once more,\\nStand by the wheel five minutes yet,\\nAnd we will reach the shore.\\nThrough flames and smoke that dauntless heart\\nResponded firmly, still\\nUnawed, though face to face with death,\\nWith God s good help I will\\nThe flames approach with giant strides,\\nThey scorch his hands and brow\\nOne arm disabled seeks his side,\\nAh, he is conquered now\\nBut no, his teeth are firmly set.\\nHe crushes down the pain\\nHis knee upon the stanchion pressed,\\nHe guides the ship again.\\nOne moment yet one moment yet\\nBrave heart, thy task is o er\\nThe pebbles grate beneath the keel.\\nThe steamer touches shore.\\nThree hundred grateful voices rise.\\nIn praise to God, that He\\nHath saved them from the fearful fire,\\nAnd from the ingulfing sea.\\nBut where is he, that helmsman bold?\\nThe captain saw him reel\\nHis nerveless hands released their task,\\nHe sunk beside the wheel.\\nThe wave received his lifeless corpse,\\nBlackened with smoke and fire.\\nGod rest him Hero never had\\nA nobler funeral pyre\\nHoratio Ai,ger, Jr.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0437.jp2"}, "438": {"fulltext": "A CASK OP INDECISION DANGER ON BOTH SIDES.\\n402", "height": "3481", "width": "2535", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0438.jp2"}, "439": {"fulltext": "CHAPTKR XXVI.\\nDECISION.\\nT HEN we can say no not\\nonly to things that are\\nwrong and sinful, but also\\nto things pleasant, which\\nwould hinder and clog our\\ngrand duties and our chief\\nwork, we shall understand\\nmore fully what life is worth and how to\\nmake the most of it. We need our innocent\\nenjoyments. After all that has been said\\nabout the sternness of the old Puritans, they\\ndoubtless had their mirth at times, told pithy\\nstories, and may have been guilty even of\\npractical jokes.\\nYet if we were to take the view that life is\\nnothing but a play spell, caUing for no self-\\ndenial, demanding no decision on our part\\nagainst the evil and in favor of the good, we\\nshould be making a grave mistake. The\\ncharacter must not be colorless, must not be\\nof the milk and water type, must be positive\\nand emphatic.\\nSays HazHtt There is nothing more to\\nbe esteemed than a manly firmness and\\ndecision of character. I like a person who\\nknows his own mind and sticks to it who\\nsees at once what, in given circumstances, is\\nto be done, and does it.\\nSays Gilpin I hate to see things done\\nby halves. If it be right, do it boldly if it\\nbe wrong, leave it undone.\\nSays Thomas Carlyle in his own strong\\nway The block of granite which was an\\nobstacle in the pathway of the weak, becomes\\na stepping-stone in the pathway of the strong.\\nSays the celebrated Punshon All the\\nworld over it is true that a double-minded\\nman is unstable in all his ways, like a wave\\non the streamlet tossed hither and thither\\nwith every eddy of its tide. A determinate\\npurpose in life and a steady adhesion to it\\nthrough all disadvantages are indispensable\\nconditions of success.\\nSaying of Dr. Hawes.\\nSays Virginia s statesman, William Wirt:\\nDecision of character will often give to an\\ninferior mind command over a superior.\\nThere once lived in Hartford, Connecticut,\\na clergyman whose influence over the young\\nwas almost magical. Sympathetic, sound in\\njudgment, plain and honest. Dr. Joel Hawes\\nwielded a power such as belonged to kw\\nmen of his time. Here is one of his sayings\\nHe that cannot decidedly say no when\\ntempted to evil is on the highway to ruin.\\nHe loses the respect even of those who\\nwould tempt him, and becomes the pliant\\ntool and victim of their evil designs.\\nThese sayings are quoted here to indicate\\nwhat thoughtful men have had to say on the\\ngreat matter of decision. No man is weaker\\nthan the one who is nothing more nor less\\nthan a weather-vane. He turns this way and\\nthat with every wind that blows. He has\\nno mind of his own, no fixed opinion, no\\nfirm resolution, no strong determinati n.\\nYesterday he thought one thing to-da\\\\- he\\nthinks another. He is unstable and hence is\\nunmanly. He drifts about as a straw does\\nin a tempest. If he comes to a conclusion,\\nhe does not know how to hold it he is\\n403", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0439.jp2"}, "440": {"fulltext": "404\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nready for another, and then is ready for the\\nnext. Easily influenced, swayed this way\\nand that, people say of him, You never\\nknow where to find him. Do not trouble\\nyourself to find him at all; he is not worth\\nthe finding.\\nYou do not like to see one whose chief\\ncharacteristic is stubborness, one who resists\\nall appeals to reason, makes up his mind\\nperhaps hastily, and then boasts that he\\nnever gives up his opinion. He is obstinate,\\nand is proud that he is so. A mule may\\nhave most excellent qualities for a mule, but\\na man who is mulish, who is stubborn, and\\nlittle else but stubborn, is only to be\\ndespised. Perhaps the idea would be better\\nexpressed by saying he is too weak to form\\na correct opinion he has too little mind to\\never change his mind. It belongs to noble\\nsouls to yield when there is good occasion\\nfor yielding.\\nScotland s Poet.\\nYou should learn to be firm. Said Napo-\\nleon When firmness is sufficient, rashness\\nis unnecessary. Steadfastness is a noble\\nquality, but, unguided by knowledge, it\\nbecomes obstinancy. Robby Burns with all\\nhis genius was a weak man, the sport of cir-\\ncumstances and the prey of his own appetite,\\nyet ye wrote Firmness both in suffering\\nand exertion is a character which I would\\nwish to possess. I have always despised the\\nwhining yelp of complaint and the cowardly,\\nfeeble resolve. What are you to do in the\\nwhirl and swirl of life unless there is some-\\nthing of the rock in you that beats back the\\nbillows This, as already intimated, does\\nnot mean that you are to stick to your\\nresolve whether or no, but having made up\\nyour mind that what you are to do is right\\nand reasonable, you are to do it, though the\\nheavens fall. Do not be drifting constantly\\nfrom one purpose to another. Keep the end\\nin view and press toward it. Have that\\ndecision which means success get rid of\\nthat indecision which means defeat. No\\nwords of Mr. Lincoln have been more quoted\\nthan these With malice toward none,\\nwith charity for all, with firmness in the\\nright, as God gives us to see the right.\\nWithout this sentiment as a guiding star\\nwhat is any man or nation worth One of\\nthe English poets has given us these noble\\nlines\\nThy purpose firm is equal to uhe deed\\nWho does the best his circumstance allows\\nDoes well acts nobly, angels could no more.\\nWhy Men Fail.\\nHere is the secret of many a failure in\\nlife. You have seen those who were bril-\\nliant in mind, capable of achieving much,\\nendowed with energy and activity, yet they\\nare like the top that whirls round and round,\\naccomplishing nothing. They set their faces\\nin one direction for a time, yet only for a\\ntime. They think they will do this and\\nbegin to do it they think they will do that\\nand go about it they think they will do\\nsomething else, try it and give it up. The\\none thing for them to give up is their sense-\\nless indecision. So long as they are blown\\nabout by every wind that strikes them, all\\neffort is a failure and life becomes an ab-\\nsurdity. Some one asked, respecting a\\nclergyman, to what church he belonged.\\nThe reply was, I haven t heard to what\\ndenomination he does belong this year.\\nWhat respect for such an unstable character\\ncan any one have To be fixed and reso-\\nlute, to be decided and firm, is only to be\\nexpected of those who have brains enough\\nto come to a conclusion.\\nThis trait of character has been recom-\\nmended to young men too exclusively. I", "height": "3471", "width": "2403", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0440.jp2"}, "441": {"fulltext": "DECISION.\\n405\\nknow of no reason why it is not equally ini-\\nportant to young women, and equally be-\\ncoming the sex in general. One thing, at\\nany rate, I do know which is, that thou-\\nsands of young women and the world\\nthrough their imperfection suffer, in no\\ntrifling degree, from the want of this virtue.\\nI call it a virtue. What is there that pro-\\nduces more evil directly or indirectly than\\nthe want of power, when occasion requires it,\\nto say yes, or no? As long as with\\nhalf the human race and the more influen-\\ntial half, too no does not mean no, andj/^ j\\ndoes not mean yes, there will be a vast\\namount of vice, and crime, and suffering in\\nthe world, as the natural consequence. And\\nis not that which is the cause of so much\\nevil, nearly akin to vice And is any thing\\nmore entitled to the name of virtue, than its\\nopposite\\nThe King and the Curse.\\nLet me illustrate my meaning by a Scrip-\\nture example. When Balak, the king of\\nMoab, undertook to extort a curse upon\\nIsrael, from Balaam, the latter did not say\\nno but only said, the Lord would not per-\\nmit him to do what was required. He left\\nneither to Balak nor to his messengers, any\\nreason to conclude that his virtue was invul-\\nnerable. On the contrary, as the event\\nplainly shows, his answer was just such a\\none as encouraged them to prosecute their\\nattempts to seduce him.\\nNow it is precisely this sort of refusal,\\ndirect or implied, in a thousand cases which\\nmight be named, which brings down evil,\\nnot only upon those who make it, but upon\\nothers. They mean no, perhaps and yet it\\nis not certain that the decision is like the\\nlaws of the Medes and Persians irrevoca-\\nble. Something in the tone, or manner, or\\nboth combined, leaves room to hope for suc-\\ncess in time to come. The woman who\\ndeliberates, is lost, we are told and is it\\nnot so Do not many who say no with\\nhesitancy, still retain the power and the dis-\\nposition to deliberate And is it not so\\nunderstood\\nIt is I repeat it a great misfortune a\\nvery great one not to know how and when\\nto say NO. Indeed, the undecided are more\\nthan unfortunate they are very unsafe. They\\nwho cannot say no, are never their own keep-\\ners they are always, more or less, in the power\\nand at the command of others. They may\\nform a thousand resolutions a day, to with-\\nstand in the hour of temptation and yet, if\\nthe temptation comes, and they have not ac-\\nquired decision of character, it is ten to one\\nbut they will yield to it.\\nIs it too much to say, that half the world\\nare miserable on this account miserable\\nthemselves, and a source of misery to others\\nIs it too much to say, that decision of char-\\nacter is more important to young women\\nthan to any other class of persons whatever?\\nEvils of Hesitation.\\nBut as it is in everything or almost every-\\nthing else, so it is in this matter they who\\nwould reform themselves, must begin with\\nthe smaller matters of life. The great trials\\nthose of decision no less than those of\\nother traits of human character come but\\nseldom and they who allow themselves,\\nhabitually, to vacillate, and hesitate, and re-\\nmain undecided, in the every-day concerns\\nof life, will inevitably do so in those larger\\nmatters which recur less frequently.\\nNo one will succeed in acquiring true de-\\ncision of character, without perseverance.\\nA few feeble efforts, continued a day or two,\\nor a week, are by no means sufficient to\\nchange the character or form the habit. The\\nefforts must be earnest, energetic, and un-", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0441.jp2"}, "442": {"fulltext": "406\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nremitted and must be persevered in through\\nlife.\\nI am not ignorant that many philosophers\\nand physiologists have denied that woman\\npossesses the power of perseverance in what\\nshe undertakes, in any eminent degree. A\\nBritish writer, distinguished for his boldness,\\nif not for his metaphysical acuteness, main-\\ntains with much earnestness, that woman, by\\nher vital organization, is much wanting in\\nperseverance. This notion may or may not\\nbe true. Certain it is, however, that she has\\nher peculiarities, as well as man his. But\\nwhether she has little or much native power\\nof perseverance in what she undertakes, is\\nnot so important a question, as whether she\\nmakes a proper use of the power she pos-\\nsesses.\\nThe Right Thing at the Right Time.\\nWe are required to do that best which we\\nundertake as much as is the highest seraph\\nand woman is not the less bound to per-\\nsevere in matters where perseverance would\\nbecome her, because her native power of per-\\nseverance is feeble, if, indeed, it is so. On the\\ncontrary, this very fact makes the duty of\\nperseverance to the utmost extent of the\\nmeans God has put into her hands, the more\\nurgent especially as small powers are apt\\nto be overlooked.\\nThere is one habit which should be culti-\\nvated, not only for its usefulness in general,\\nbut especially for its value in leading to true\\ndecision of character. I mean, the habit of\\ndoing everything which it devolves upon us\\nto do at all, precisely at the time when it\\nought to be done. Everything in human\\ncharacter goes to wreck, under the reign of\\nprocrastination, while prompt action gives to\\nall things a corresponding and proportional\\nlife and energy. Above all, everything in\\nthe shape of decision of character is lost by\\ndelay. It should be a sacred rule with every\\nindividual who lives in the world for any\\nhigher purpose than merely to live, never\\nto put off, for a single moment, a thing which\\nought to be done immediately if it be no\\nmore than the cleaning or changing of a\\ngarment.\\nWhen I see a young woman neglecting,\\nfrom day to day, her correspondents her\\npile of letters constantly increasing, and her\\ndread of putting pen and thoughts to paper\\naccumulating as rapidly I never fail to con-\\nclude, at once, that whatever other excel-\\nlent qualities she may possess, she is a\\nstranger to the one in question. She who\\ncannot make up her mind to answer a letter\\nwhen she knows it ought to be answered\\nand in general a letter ought to be answered\\nsoon after it is received^ will not be likely\\nto manifest decision in other things of still\\ngreater importance.\\nA Little More Slumber.\\nThe same is true in regard to indecision\\nin other things of even less moment than\\nthe writing of a letter. It is manifest espe-\\ncially in regard to the matter of rising in\\nthe morning. She who knows it is time to\\nget up, and yet cannot decide to do so, and\\nconsequently lies yawning a little longer,\\nand yet a little longer still, can never, I\\nam bold to say, while this indolence and in-\\ndecision are indulged, be decided in any-\\nthing else at least, habitually. She may,\\nindeed, be so by fits and starts but the\\nhabit will never be so confirmed as to be\\nregarded as an essential element of her char-\\nacter.\\nNearly all the habits of modern female\\neducation I mean the fashionable educa-\\ntion of the family and school are entirely\\nat war with the virtue I am endeavoring to\\ninculcate. It would be a miracle, almost, if", "height": "3481", "width": "2459", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0442.jp2"}, "443": {"fulltext": "THE DECISIVE ANSWER.\\n407", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0443.jp2"}, "444": {"fulltext": "408\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\na young woman who has been educated in a\\nfashionable family, under the eye of a fashion-\\nable mother, and at a fashionable boarding\\nschool, under the direction of a teacher\\nwhose main object is to please her patrons,\\nshould come out to the world, without being\\nquite destitute of all true decision of char-\\nacter. If it were the leading object of our\\nboarding schools to form the habit of inde-\\ncision, they could not succeed better than\\nmany of them now do. They furnish to\\nthe world a set of beings who are anything\\nbut what the world wants, and who are more\\nlikely to do almost anything else than to be\\nthe means of reforming it.\\nA Grand Determination.\\nYou will doubtless say it is easy to give\\nadvice, that some persons make a business\\nof it, that they give a great deal of advice\\nwhich they never follow themselves. Very\\nwell, you are at liberty to say all this and\\nmuch more. Still, it would not be well to\\nforget that advice has its value and those\\nwho are never urged to overcome their\\nfaults and failings are not so likely to do it\\nas those who are advised to thus gain a\\nmoral victory over themselves. It is not a\\nquestion as to whether one is advised to do\\na certain thing if the duty recommended is\\nbinding and important, there should be no\\nhesitation. What I am trying especially to\\nenforce is bold decision, that grand deter-\\nmination without which no man can be more\\nthan half a man.\\nBut firmness of purpose is master of the\\nsituation. Think of the great number of\\ndifficult pursuits. Think of the many hard\\nthings young people have to learn. You\\nare anxious, we will say, to become a good\\nscholar, and hold an enviable rank. Do\\nyou think you will attain this object by pur-\\nsuing it with enthusiasm for a week and\\nthen giving it up for a month You get\\ndown over your desk the problem is a\\nhard one it suddenly occurs to you that\\nyou have a headache which is a very con-\\nvenient thing to have, since that problem is\\nso hard; your efforts suddenly cease. If\\nyou could be decided enough to take that\\nproblem and stick to it with grim tenacity,\\nyou would doubtless have the sweet satisfac-\\ntion of having conquered, and would have\\nproved what is of greater value, that you are\\nnot so weak as to be driven from your pur-\\npose by trifles or difficulties.\\nSuccess Hangs on Decision.\\nOne of the hardest undertakings known to\\nmechanical science, is the making of lenses\\nfor telescopes. It has been said there is only\\none successful maker of these lenses in this\\ncountry, and he has furnished them for the\\nlargest telescopes on the continent. It re-\\nquires not only mechanical genius for cutting,\\ngrinding, poHshing and adjusting the glass;\\nsomething vastly more is needed. Think of\\nbeginning a work which is sure to last two\\nor three years, with the possibility that even\\nafter all the labor of that time it will prove a\\ncomplete failure. Some flaw may appear,\\nsome disproportion, some unforseen defect,,\\nwhich will defeat the whole process. Then,\\na new beginning must be made, with the\\nchance again of a similar result. Very won-\\nderful is the lens through which the heavens\\nburst in sumptuous splendor, but more mar-\\nvelous by far is that steady aim and unflinch-\\ning perseverance which declares it shall be\\ndone. The first obstacle would appall some\\nmen only the man of decision and force is\\nequal to the occasion. Decision, strong and\\nunyielding, has had much to do with the\\ngreat successes which command our admira-\\ntion and excite our surprise.\\nWhere many men fail is in the crisis of", "height": "3481", "width": "2467", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0444.jp2"}, "445": {"fulltext": "DECISION.\\n409\\nconduct. They know very well the course\\nthey should pursue they are tempted to do\\nthe opposite. You fancy that something\\nis to be gained by yielding as if it were\\npossible ever to gain anything by a sacrifice\\nof character. You have come to a fork in\\nthe roads one road or the other you must\\nfollow. You have a grand opportunity to\\nsay no, and to say it, would place the\\nbrightest jewel in your crown. It is sur-\\nprising that you doubt and hesitate. Poor,\\nweak creature, you are not equal to the oc-\\ncasion. It were well if you could exhibit a\\nholy stubborness in favor of the right. Just\\nhere is where men break, go to pieces, and\\nthe wreck is more deplorable than that of the\\nrichest argosy ever cast upon the rocks. It\\nis not surprising, therefore, that so much has\\nbeen said and written upon decision of char-\\nacter, and this virtue has been urged and\\nrecommended as one of the chief elements\\nof human success.\\nThe Roman Emperor.\\nDoubtless all are familiar with the story\\nof Csesar crossing the Rubicon. The details\\nare given in Tyler s History, as follows\\nThe boundary which separates Italy from\\nCisalpine Gaul is a small river named the\\nRubicon. The Roman Senate, aware of the\\ndesigns of Caesar, had pronounced a decree\\ndevoting to the infernal gods whatever gen-\\neral should presume to pass this boundary\\nwith an army, a legion, or even a single co-\\nhort. Caesar, who, with all his ambition, in-\\nherited a large share of the benevolent af-\\nfections, did not resolve on the decisive step\\nwhich he had now taken without some com-\\npunction of mind. Arrived with his army\\nat the border of his province, he hesitated\\nfor some time, while he pictured to himself\\nthe inevitable miseries of that civil war in\\nwhich he was now preparing to unsheath\\nthe sword. If I pass this small stream,\\nsaid he, in what calamities must I involve\\nmy country Yet if I do not, I myself am\\nruined. The latter consideration was too\\npowerful. Ambition, too, presented allure-\\nments which, to a mind like Caesar s, were\\nirresistible.\\nThe Die is Cast.\\nHis reflections became more interesting in\\nproportion as the danger grew near. Stag-\\ngered by the greatness of his attempt, he\\nstopped to weigh within himself its incon-\\nveniences and as he stood revolving in\\nsilence the arguments on both sides, he many\\ntimes changed his opinion. After which he\\ndeliberated upon it with such of his friends\\nas were by, among whom was Asinius Pollio\\nenumerating the calamities which the passage\\nof that i4ver would bring upon the world,\\nand the reflections that might be made upon\\nit by posterity. At last, upon some sudden\\nimpulse, bidding adieu to his reasonings, and\\nplunging into the abyss of futurity, in the\\nwords of those who embark in doubtful and\\narduous enterprises, he cried out, The die\\nis cast and immediately passed the river.\\nMuch has been said about the decided\\nbearing of the early Scotch Presbyterians.\\nPersecution, they said, could only kill the\\nbody, but indulgence was deadly to the soul.\\nDriven from the towns, they assembled on\\nheaths and mountains. Attacked by the\\ncivil power, they without scruple repelled\\nforce by force. At every conventicle they\\nmustered in arms. They repeatedly broke\\nout into open rebellion. They were easily\\ndefeated, and mercilessly punished but\\nneither defeat nor punishment could subdue\\ntheir spirit. Hunted down like wild beasts,\\ntortured till their bones were beaten flat, im-\\nprisoned by hundreds, hanged by scores, ex-\\nposed at one time to the license of soldiers.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0445.jp2"}, "446": {"fulltext": "410\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nfrom England, abandoned at another time to\\nthe mercy of bands of marauders from the\\nHighlands, they still stood at bay in a mood\\nso savage that the boldest and mightiest op-\\npressor could not but dread the audacity of\\ntheir despair. They were of fibre tough\\nenough to suffer for a principle.\\nThis subject finds many examples in the\\nhistory of our own land. In 1846 Colonel\\nJohn C. Fremont determined to strike a blow\\nfor his country he urged the people of\\nCalifornia, many of whom were Americans,\\nto declare their independence. The hardy\\nfrontiersmen of the Sacramento valley\\nflocked to his standard and a campaign\\n-was at once begun to overthrow the Mexi-\\ncan authority. An American fleet had cap-\\ntured the town of Monterey and San Diego.\\nBefore the end of summer the whole of the\\nvast province was subdued and the authority\\nof the United States was completely estab-\\nlished. A country large enough for an em-\\npire had been conquered by a handful of\\nresolute men.\\nA Pocket Full.\\nBancroft, speaking of the opponents of\\nroyalty in England in the 17th century, says\\nthat self-preservation, uniting with ambition\\nand wild enthusiasm, urged them to uncom-\\npromising hostility with Charles I. He or\\nthey must perish. If my head or the\\nking s must fall, argued Cromwell, can I\\nhesitate which to choose By an act of\\nviolence the Independents seized on the\\nking, and held him in their special custody.\\nNow, said the exulting Cromwell now\\nthat I have the king in my hands I have the\\nParliament in my pocket.\\nHere is another illustration from English\\nhistory. The death of Strafford had been\\ndecreed, and great efforts were made to re-\\nverse the edict. The Parliament was inflex-\\nible the Queen wept; England was in a\\nferment. Charles I., although ready to\\nyield, still hesitated. The Queen Henrietta,\\nof France, daughter of Henry IV., a beauti-\\nful and accomplished princess, for whom\\nuntil his death the king preserved the fidel-\\nity of a husband and the passion of a lover,\\npresented herself before him in mourning,\\naccompanied by her little children.\\nShe besought him on her knees to yield\\nto the vengeance of the people, which he\\ncouldnotresistwithout turning upontheinno-\\ncent pledges of their love that death which\\nhe was endeavoring vainly to avert from a\\ncondemned head. Choose, said she,\\nbetween your own life, mine, these dear\\nchildren s and the life of this minister so\\nhateful to the nation.\\nCharles, struck with horror at the idea of\\nsacrificing his beloved wife and infant chil-\\ndren, the hopes of the monarchy, replied\\nthat he cared not for his own life, for he\\nwould willingly give it to save his minister\\nbut to endanger Henrietta and her children\\nwas beyond his strength and desire. He\\nsigned the death warrant of his chief mini-\\nster and faithful friend.\\nA thrilling illustration of this virtue is\\nhere given, which is only one of many\\nsimilar acts of heroic decision.\\nThe Engineer s Story.\\nNo, children, my trips are over,\\nThe engineer needs rest\\nMy hand is shaky I m feeling\\nA tugging pain i my breast\\nBut here, as the twilight gathers,\\nI ll tell you a tale of the road,\\nThat ll ring in my head forever,\\nTill it rests beneath the sod.\\nWe were lumbering along in the twilight,\\nThe night was dropping her shade,\\nAnd the Gladiator labored\\nClimbing the top of the grade", "height": "3481", "width": "2538", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0446.jp2"}, "447": {"fulltext": "DECISION.\\n411\\nThe train was heavily laden,\\nSo I let my engine rest,\\nClimbing the grading slowly.\\nTill we reached the upland s crest.\\nI held my watch to the lamplight\\nTen minutes behind the time\\nLost in the slackened motion\\nOf the up-grade s heavy climb\\nBut I knew the miles of the prairie\\nThat stretched a level track,\\nSo I touched the gauge of the boiler,\\nAnd pulled the lever back.\\nOver the rails a-gleaming,\\nThirty an hour, or so,\\nThe engine leaped like a demon,\\nBreathing a fiery glow\\nBut to me ahold of the lever\\nIt seemed a child alway.\\nTrustful and always ready\\nMy lightest touch to obey.\\nI was proud, you know, of my engine,\\nHolding it steady that night.\\nAnd my eye on the track before us,\\nAblaze with the Drummond light.\\nWe neared a well-known cabin.\\nWhere a child of three or four,\\nAs the up train passed, oft called me,\\nA playing around the door.\\nMy hand was firm on the throttle\\nAs we swept around the curve.\\nWhen something afar in the shadow.\\nStruck fire through every nerve.\\nI sounded the brakes, and crashing\\nThe reverse lever down in dismay.\\nGroaning to Heaven eighty paces\\nAhead was the child at its play\\nOne instant one, awful and only,\\nThe world flew round in my brain,\\nAnd I smote my hand hard on my forehead\\nTo kef:^ back the terrible pain\\nThe *.rain I thought flying forever,\\nWith mad irresistible roll,\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0^Tiile the cries of the dying, the night wind\\nSwept into my shuddering soul.\\nThen I stood on the front of the engine\\nHow I got there I never could tell\\nMy feet planted down on the crossbar,\\nWhere the cow-catcher slopes to the rail,\\nOne hand firmly locked on the coupler,\\nAnd one held out in the night.\\nWhile my eye gauged the distance, and measured\\nThe speed of our slackening flight.\\nMy mind, thank the Lord it was steady\\nI saw the curls of her hair.\\nAnd the face that, turning in wonder,\\nWas lit by the deadly glare.\\nI know little more but I heard it\\nThe groan of the anguished wheels.\\nAnd remember thinking the engine\\nIn agony trembles and reels.\\nOne rod To the day of my dying\\nI shall think the old engine reared back,\\nAnd as it recoiled, with a shudder\\nI swept my hand over the track\\nThen darkness fell over my eyelids,\\nBut I heard the surge of the train.\\nAnd the poor old engine creaking,\\nAs racked by a deadly pain.\\nThey found us, they said, on the gravel,\\nMy fingers enmeshed in her hair.\\nAnd she on my bosom a-climbing,\\nTo nestle securely there.\\nWe are not much given to crying\\nWe men that run on the road\\nBut that night they said, there were faces.\\nWith tears on them, lifted to God.\\nFor years in the eve and the morning\\nAs I neared the cabin again,\\nMy hand on the lever pressed downward\\nAnd slackened the speed of the train.\\nWhen my engine had blown her a greeting.\\nShe always would come to the door\\nAnd her look with a fullness of heaven\\nBlesses me evermore.\\nA great deal of labor is lost to the world\\nfor the want of decision. Every day sends\\nto their graves a number of obscure men,\\nwho have only remained in obscurity because\\ntheir timidity has prevented them from mak-\\ning a first effort.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0447.jp2"}, "448": {"fulltext": "HEROISM IN WELL-DOING.\\n412", "height": "3500", "width": "2196", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0448.jp2"}, "449": {"fulltext": "CHAPT^E^R XXVTT.\\nHEROISM IN WELL=DOINQ.\\nN old times virtue and valor were\\nsynonymous. Valor, the old\\nRoman valor, was worth, value.\\nIt was strength, force, available\\nfor noble purposes. He who\\nbest serves his fellow-creatures\\nwho elevates them who\\nsaves them is the most valiant.\\nThere is also an inward valor of con-\\nscience, of honesty, of self-denial, of self-\\nsacrifice, of daring to do the right in the\\nface of the world s contumely. Its chief\\ncharacteristic is great-heartedness. Endur-\\nance and energy are the dual soul of worth,\\nthe true valor.\\nThe heroism whose theatre is the battle-\\nfield is not of the highest order. Amid the\\nclash of bayonets and the boom of cannon\\nmen are incited to deeds of daring, and are\\nready to give their Jives for the good of their\\ncountry.\\nWomen, whose province it seems to be to\\nbear and forbear, are quite as capable of\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2endurance as men. In the blood-stained\\nstories of war there is none, perhaps, that\\nmore enlists our hearts than that of the\\nwoman who put on male attire to follow her\\nlover to the fight, stood by his side when he\\nfell, and then braved death rather than be\\nparted from his dead body. How many are\\nthere of these soldiers of the world, ever\\nfighting the uphill battle of existence, ever\\nstriving for a position and never attaining\\none ever decimated by the artillery of\\nnecessity beaten back, discomfited, all but\\nbopeless and despairing, and yet still return-\\ning to the charge Life with them is a long,\\nhard conflict.\\nThe Christian hero is not incited by any\\nsuch deeds of daring as the soldier hero.\\nThe arena on which he acts is not that of\\naggression or strife, but of suffering and self-\\nsacrifice. No stars glitter on his breast, no\\nbanners wave over him. And when he falls,\\nas he often does, in the performance of his\\nduty, he receives no nation s laurels, no\\npompous mournings, but only the silent\\ndropping of tears over his grave.\\nThe Best Men and Women.\\nMan is not made for fame, or glory, or\\njuccess but for something higher and\\ngreater than the world can give. God\\nhath given to man, says Jeremy Taylor,\\na short time here upon earth, and yet upon\\nthis short time eternity depends. We\\nmust remember that we have many enemies\\nto conquer, many evils to prevent, much\\ndanger to run through, many difficulties to\\nbe mastered, many necessities to be served,\\nand much good to do.\\nSelf-sacrifice is the key-note of Christ-\\nianity. The best men and women have\\nnever been self-seekers. They have given\\nthemselves to others, without regard to\\nglory or fame. They have found their best\\nreward in the self-consciousness of duty\\nperformed. And yet many pass away with-\\nout hearing the well-done of those\\nwhom they have served. Do unto others\\nas ye would they should do unto you, is a\\ncommand of infinite application. And yet\\n413", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0449.jp2"}, "450": {"fulltext": "414\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nit is not easy at least for those who live in\\naffluence or indifference to carry out the\\nobligation.\\nThere is not an unnecessary thing in\\nexistence, could we but understand it not\\none of our experiences of life but is full of\\nsignifiance, could we but see it. Even mis-\\nfortune is often the surest touchstone of\\nhuman excellence. The most celebrated\\npoet of Germany has said that he who has\\nnot eaten his bread in tears, who has not\\nspent nights of pain weeping on his bed,\\ndoes not yet know a heavenly power.\\nWhen painful events occur they are, perhaps,\\nsent only to try and prove us. If we stand\\nfirm in our hour of trial, this firmness gives\\nserenity to the mind, which always feels sat-\\nisfaction in acting conformably to duty.\\nThe Reward of Love.\\nThe opportunities of doing good come to\\nall who work and .will. The earnest spirit\\nfinds its way to the hearts of others. Pa-\\ntience and perseverance overcome all things.\\nHow many men, how many women too,\\nvolunteer to die without the applause of\\nmen. They give themselves up to visiting\\nthe poor they nurse the sick, suffer for\\nthem, and take the infectious diseases of\\nwhich they die. Many a life has thus been\\nlaid down because of duty and mercy.\\nThey had no reward except that of love.\\nSacrifice, borne not for self but for others, is\\nalways sacred.\\nEpimenedes, a philosopher and poet of\\nCrete, was called to Athens in order to stay\\nthe plague. He went, and succeeded in\\narresting the pestilence, but refused any\\nother reward beyond the good-will of the\\nAthenians in favor of the inhabitants of\\nGnossus, where he dwelt.\\nIn olden times the plague was a frightful\\ndisease. People fled before it. They fled\\nfrom each other. The plague-stricken were\\noften left to die alone. Yet many noble and\\ngentle men and women offered themselves\\nup to stay the disease. Over three cen-\\nturies ago the plague broke out in the city\\nof Milan. Cardinal Charles Borromeo, the\\narchbishop, was then (1576) staying at Lodi.\\nHe at once volunteered to go to the infected\\nplace. His clergy advised him to remain\\nwhere he was, and to wait until the disease\\nhad exhausted itself He answered, No\\nA bishop, whose duty it is to give his life for\\nhis flock, cannot abandon them in their time\\nof peril. Yes, they repHed, to stand\\nby them is the higher course. Well, he\\nsaid, is it not a bishop s duty to take the\\nhigher course? And he went to Milan.\\nHis Example w^as Followed.\\nThe plague lasted about four months.\\nDuring that time the Cardinal personally\\nvisited the sick, in their homes, in the hos-\\npitals, and everywhere. He watched over\\nthem, gave them food and medicine, and\\nadministered to them the last rites when\\ndying. The example which he set was fol-\\nlowed by his clergy, who ministered to the\\npeople with as much self-devotion as him-\\nself And it was not until the last man\\ndied, and the last man recovered, that the\\ngood archbishop returned to his episcopal\\nduties.\\nThe disease repeatedly visited England, at\\na time when the people were worse fed, and\\nwhen the conditions of health were com-\\npletely disregarded. It proved most fatal in\\nLondon, where the streets were narrow, foul,\\nill-ventilated, and badly supplied with water.\\nIts last appearance was in 1665 it carried\\noff 100,000 persons, when the population of\\nLondon was not one-sixth of what it is now.\\nIt extended from London into the country.\\nThough most people fled from the disease.", "height": "3497", "width": "2542", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0450.jp2"}, "451": {"fulltext": "415", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0451.jp2"}, "452": {"fulltext": "416\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nthere were many instances of noble self-de-\\nvotion. Bishop Morton, of York, was one\\nof these. He thought nothing of himself,\\nbut only of his flock. A pest-house or\\nhospital was erected for the accommodation\\nof the poorest. They were taken from their\\nwretched homes, and carefully tended.\\nThough it was difficult to find attendants,\\nthe bishop was always there. Like a soldier,\\nhe stood by his post. When food was\\nwanted he rode out to his farm in the country\\nand brought sacks of provisions on his horse\\nfor their use. He would not suffer his ser-\\nvants to run the risk which he himself ran\\nand not only saddled and unsaddled his\\nhorse, but had a private door made by which\\nhe could pass in and out without mixing\\nwith the people of the farm.\\nAll Given in Charity.\\nThus the plague was confined to York\\nitself The bishop was a self-denying, gen-\\nerous, and thoroughly good man. When\\nhis revenues were increased he expended all\\nin charity, in hospitality, and in promoting\\nevery good work. His Hfe was one entire\\nact of sincere piety and Christian benevo-\\nlence.\\nIn London and Sydenham most of the\\ndoctors fled but some self-denying men re-\\nmained. Among these was Dr. Hodges,\\nwho stuck to his post. He continued in un-\\nremitting attendance upon the sick. He did\\nnot derive any advantage from his self-deny-\\ning labors, except the approval of his own\\nconscience. He fell into reduced circum-\\nstances, was confined in Ludgate prison for\\ndebt, and died there in 1688. He left the\\nbest account of the last visit of the plague.\\nFrom London, as we have said, the dis-\\nease extended to the country. In many re-\\nmote country spots, places are pointed out\\nin which, it is said, they buried the plague.\\nFor instance, at the remote village of Eyam,\\nin Derbyshire, a tailor received a box of\\nclothes from London. While airing them at\\na fire he was seized with sickness, and died\\nof plague on the fourth day. The disease\\nspread. The inhabitants, only 350 in\\nnumber, contemplated a general exodus\\nbut this was prevented by the heroism of the\\nRev. William Mompesson. He urged upon\\nthe people that they would spread the dis-\\nease far and wide, and they remained. He\\nsent away his children, and wished to send\\naway his delicate wife but she remained by\\nthe side of her husband.\\nDriven to the Open Air.\\nMr. Mompesson determined to isolate the\\nvillage, so that the plague should not extend\\ninto the surrounding districts. The Earl of\\nDevonshire contributed all that was neces-\\nsarp including food, medicine, and other\\nnecessaries. In order not to bring the\\npeople together in the church, he held the\\nservices in the open air. He chose a rock in\\nthe valley for his writing-desk, and the\\npeople arranged themselves on the green\\nslope opposite, so that he was clearly heard.\\nThe ravages of the plague continued for\\nseven months. The congregation became\\nless and less each time that it met. The\\nrector and his wife were constantly among\\nthe sick, tending, nursing, and feeding them.\\nAt length the wife sickened with plague, and\\nin her weak state she rapidly sank. She was\\nburied, and the minister said over her grave,\\nas he had done over so many of his parish-\\nioners, Blessed are the dead who die in the\\nLord even so saith the Spirit for they rest\\nfrom their labors.\\nThe minister was ready to die, but he lived\\non in hope. Four-fifths of the inhabitants\\ndied, and were interred in a heathy hill\\nabove the village. I may truly say, he", "height": "3481", "width": "2451", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0452.jp2"}, "453": {"fulltext": "HEROISM IN WELL-DOING.\\n417\\nsaid in a letter, that our town has become a\\nGolgotha, a place of skulls. There have been\\nseventy-six families visited within my parish,\\nout of which died 295 persons. Mr. Mom-\\npesson himself Hved to a good old age. He\\nwas offered the Deanery of Lincoln, but he\\ndeclined it. He preferred to remain among\\nhis parishioners, and near the grave of his\\nbeloved wife. He died in 1708.\\nThe Plague Dug Up.\\nStrange to say, some fifty years later,\\nTvhen some laboring men were digging near\\nthe place where the plague had been\\nburied, they came upon some linen, no\\ndoubt connected with the graves of the\\ndead, when they were immediately stricken\\nby typhus fever. Three of the men died,\\nbut the contagion spread through the village,\\nand seventy persons were carried off The\\ntyphus seems to be the survival of the\\nplague, and many are the towns of England\\nwhere this terrible disease strikes off its thou-\\nsands yearly.\\nAt Leeds upwards of forty years ago,\\nthere was an outbreak of typhus fever. It\\nbegan in the poorest parts of the town, and\\nspread to the richer quarters. In one yard\\ntwenty-eight persons had the fever in seven\\nhouses, three of which were without beds.\\nIt was the same in other yards and build-\\nings. In one house in which twelve had\\ntyphus, there was not a single bed. The\\nHouse of Recovery and the Fever Hos-\\npital were completely full. A temporary\\nwooden shed for a hospital was erected, and\\na mill was set apart for the reception of fever\\npatients.\\nDr. Hook, then Vicar of Leeds, and the\\nRev. G. Hills (afterward Bishop of Columbia),\\nvisited these places daily. They adminis-\\ntered every comfort and assistance in their\\npower. The Catholic priests were most de-\\n27\\nvoted. When .the plague of typhus broke\\nout they went at once to minister to the\\npoor. Into the densest pestilential abodes,\\nwhere to breathe the poisoned air was death,\\nthey went fearlessly and piously. They\\nwere found at the bedsteads of the dying and\\nthe newly dead. No dangers daunted their\\nresolute hearts. They saw death before\\nthem, but they feared him not. They caught\\nthe pestilence, and one by one they sickened\\nand died.\\nThe Rev. Henry Walmsley, senior Catho-\\nlic priest, first died. On the following day\\nhis junior died; he had been in Leeds only\\nthree weeks. Others pressed into the\\nbreach, as if a siege were to be won. They\\nearnestly pleaded that they should be\\nallowed to occupy the post of danger. The\\nsuccessor of Mr. Walmsley next fell a\\nvictim. Two others died, making five in all.\\nA simple monument was erected to their\\nmemory, as men who fell victims to fever in\\ndischarge of their sacred duties in 1847.\\nThey Brave Death.\\nSurgeons and medical men are always in\\ncontact with diseases, no matter how infec-\\ntious. These men brave death in all its\\naspects, often without the slightest hope of\\nreward. Wherever they are called they go,\\nunshrinkingly doing their duty, sometimes\\neven unthanked. They spend and are spent,\\nlabor and toil, till their strength fails and\\ntheir heart sickens and then the fever\\nfastens on them and they are carried off.\\nHeroes such as these pass silently through\\nlife, and fame never reaches them. The\\ngreatest heroes of all are men whom the\\nworld knows not of\\nSurgeons have done their duty on the\\nfield as well as in the dweUings of the poor.\\nThey have gone out under fire, and brought\\nback the wounded soldiers to be dressed and", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0453.jp2"}, "454": {"fulltext": "418\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\ncared for. The French surgeon Larrey was\\nquite a hero in this respect. During the\\nretreat from Moscow he was seen performing\\nan operation literally under the fire of the\\nenemy. He had only a camp cloak to pro-\\ntect the patient. It was held over him in the\\nmanner of an awning to protect him during\\nthe falling snow.\\nIn another case, which happened on the\\nburning sands of Egypt, the dashing httle\\nsurgeon showed a similar ardor. An engage-\\nment with the English had just occurred,\\nand among the wounded was General Silly,\\nwhose knee was ground by a bullet. Larrey,\\nperceiving that fatal results might ensue un-\\nless the limb was amputated at once, pro-\\nposed amputation. The general consented\\nto the operation, which was performed under\\nthe enemy s fire in the space of three\\nminutes.\\nThe Surgeon and the Officer.\\nBut lo the English cavalry were ap-\\nproaching. What was then to become of\\nthe French surgeon and his dear patient?\\nI had scarce time, said Larrey, to place\\nthe wounded officer on my shoulders and to\\ncarry him rapidly away toward our army,\\nwhich was in full retreat. I spied a series of\\nditches, some of them planted with caper\\nbushes, across which I passed, while the\\ncavalry were obliged to go by a more cir-\\ncuitous route in that intersected country.\\nThus I had the happiness to reach the rear-\\nguard of our army before this corps of\\ndragoons. At length I arrived with this\\nhonorably wounded officer at Alexandria,\\nwhere I completed his cure.\\nHere is another hero. Doctor Salsdorf,\\nSaxon surgeon to Prince Christian, had his\\nleg shattered by a shell at the beginning of\\nthe battle of Wagram. While laid on the\\nground he saw, about fifteen paces from\\nhim, M. de Kerbourg, the aide-de-camp,\\nwho, struck by a bullet, had fallen and was\\nvomiting blood. The surgeon saw that the\\nofficer must speedily die unless promptly\\nhelped. He summoned together all his\\npower, dragged himself along the ground\\nuntil he approached the officer, bled him,\\nand saved his life. De Kerbourg could not\\nembrace his benefactor. The wounded\\ndoctor was removed to Vienna, but he was\\nso much exhausted that he only survived\\nfour days after the amputation of his leg.\\nThe Wounded Must Fly.\\nOn the advance of an army it is usual to\\nbring up the wagons in the rear for the\\naccommodation of the wounded. When\\nthe men fall they are carried back to the\\nsurgeon to be attended to. If the army is\\ndriven back, the surgeons and the wounded\\nhave to fly, or be taken prisoners. On the\\noccasion of the battle of the Alma the Rus-\\nsians fled, and the British and French fol-\\nlowed. A large number of wounded men\\nhad been left. Several hundred Russians\\nwere brought to the eastern part of the field,\\nwhere they were laid down in rows on a\\nsheltered spot of ground near the river.\\nHappily there was a surgeon at head-\\nquarters whose sense of honor and duty was\\nsupported by a strong will, by resistless\\nenergy, and by a soundness of judgment and\\ncommand of temper rarely united with great\\nactivity. This was Dr. Thompson, of the\\n44th Regiment. Though the country was\\nabandoned by the Russians, he succeeded in\\ngetting 400 pounds of biscuit and the num-\\nber of hands needed to sustain him in his\\nundertaking. He immediately had the\\nwounded fed, for they had had no susten-\\nance during twenty-four hours. Then he\\nattended to the dressing of their wounds.\\nThis occupied him from seven in the evening", "height": "3481", "width": "2454", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0454.jp2"}, "455": {"fulltext": "HEROISM IN WELL-DOING.\\n419\\nuntil half-past eleven at night, yet he icept\\nsteadily at his work.\\nBy this time the soldiers had left to carry\\nthe English wounded back to the ships at\\nEupatoria. And then Dr. Thompson and\\nhis servant, John McGrath, remained among\\nthe Russian wounded. They remained there\\nfor three days and three nights alone, amid\\nthe scorching sun by day and the steel-cold\\nstars by night.\\nAt length the opportunity occurred for\\nembarking the Russians and sending them\\nto a Russian port under a flag of truce.\\nWhen at length, says Mr. Kinglake, on\\nthe morning of the 26th, Captain Lushing-\\nton, of the Albion, came up from the shore\\nand discovered his two fellow-countrymen at\\ntheir dismal post of duty, he was filled with\\nadmiration at their fortitude, and with sym-\\npathy for what they had endured.\\nHeld Out to the End.\\nIn like manner Dr. Kay, the surgeon of\\nthe hospital at Benares, during the Indian\\nMutiny, stood by his post at the risk of his\\nlife, for the enemy were advancing to destroy\\nhim as well as his suffering patients. Every\\none remembers the dreadful events at Cawn-\\npore, where every one perished, to the last\\nman, the last woman, and the last child.\\nYet the British held out to the end, under\\nthe withering fire of the mutinous Sepoys.\\nIt is hard to believe, says Rev. Robert\\nCollyer, of New York, any man, as a rule,\\nmore empty of what we call religion than\\nthe common soldier. His whole life, poor\\nfellow makes it very hard for him to have\\nany sense of it, and he has very little. But\\nit has come out, since the great Sepoy\\nRebellion in India, that numbers of these\\nmen in the English army were offered the\\nalternative of renouncing the Chrisian religion\\nand embracing that of the rebels or being\\nmurdered by all the horrible ways that the\\nhate and rage of the heathen can invent.\\nIt is believed that they died to a man\\nnot one instance as yet has come to light of\\nany common soldier giving way. He was a\\nman belongirfg to the Christian side, and the\\npincers could not tear that simple manliness\\nout of his heart, or the fire burn it out.\\nAnd so there may be manliness where there\\nis little grace, or if by grace you mean that\\ngracious thing, a pure and holy life and\\na conscious religion.\\nAn Outbreak of Cholera.\\nAnd here let us mention the self-devotion\\nof two non-commissioned officers during the\\noutbreak of cholera at Moultan. In the\\nabsence of women they nursed the sick and\\nthe dying. They worked day and night ire\\nthe cholera hospital. Corporal Derbyshire\\nat last broke down from sheer fatigue, but\\nhis place was supplied by others. The\\nother non-commissioned officer. Corporal\\nHopper, volunteered for hospital duty at\\nTopah, where he earned the gratitude of\\nboth the medical and military authorities.\\nThe surgeons were always at their task\\nin both places, braving death at every\\nmoment. When the commander-in-chief\\nvisited Moultan, shortly after, he publicly\\nthanked Derbyshire and Hopper in the\\nmidst of their admiring comrades.\\nBut the same quality is sometimes dis-\\nplayed amid the fire of shot and shell. At\\nthe siege of Cadiz by the French in 18 12\\nmen and women were killed in the streets, at\\nthe windows, and in the recesses of their\\nhouses. When a shell was thrown by the\\nenemy, a single toll of the great bell was the\\nsignal for the inhabitants to be on their\\nguard. One day a solemn toll was heard in\\nsignal of a shell. That very shell fell\\nfuriously on the bell and shivered it to", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0455.jp2"}, "456": {"fulltext": "420\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\natpms. The monk whose duty it was to\\nsound it went and tolled the other bell.\\nThe good man had conquered the fear of\\ndeath.\\nBut a singular act of bravery on the part\\nof a woman was displayed during the same\\nsiege. Matagorda was a small outlaying\\nfort without a ditch or bomb-proof. Within\\nthis fort 140 English troops were stationed,\\nfor the purpose of impeding the completion\\nof the French works. A Spanish seventy-\\nfour and an armed flotilla co-operated in the\\ndefence, but a hitherto masked battery\\nopened upon the ships, and, after inundating\\nthem with hot shot, drove them for shelter\\nto Cadiz harbor.\\nA Sergeant s Noble Wife.\\nForty -eight guns and mortors of the\\nlargest size concentrated their fire upon the\\nlittle fort. The feeble parapet at once van-\\nished before the crashing flight of shot and\\nshell, leaving only the naked rampart and\\nthe undaunted hearts of the garrison. For\\nthirty hours this tempest lasted and now\\noccurs the anecdote of the woman of Mata-\\ngorda.\\nA sergeaJit s wife, named Retson, was in\\na casemate nursing a wounded man. The\\npatient wasi thirsty, and wanted something to\\ndrink. She called to a drummer boy, and\\nasked him to go to the well and fetch a pail\\nof water. The boy hesitated, because he\\nknew that the well was raked by the shot\\nand she;ll.of the enemy. She snatched the\\nbucket from his hand and went herself to\\nthe well. She braved the terrible cannonade,\\nwent down to the well, filled the bucket with\\nwater, and, though a shot cut the cord from\\nher hand, she recovered it, went back with\\n^he water for her patient, and fulfilled her\\nmission.\\nThe shot fell upon the doomed fort thick\\nand close. A staff bearing the Spanish flag\\nwas cut down six times in an hour. At\\nlength Sir Thomas Graham, finding the\\ndefence impracticable, sent a detachment of\\nboats to carry off the survivors. A bastion\\nwas blown up under the direction of Major\\nLefebre. But he also fell, the last man who\\nwet with his blood the ruins thus abandoned.\\nThe boats were then filled, and the men\\nreturned to Cadiz. They were accompanied\\nby the heroic women of Matagorda.\\nFlorence Nightingale.\\nCan any one believe that women can un-\\ndertake to nurse soldiers in time of war?\\nAnd yet it is done bravely and nobly.\\nNurses used to be taken from the same class\\nas ordinary domestic servants. It was not\\nuntil Miss Nightingale, by her noble devo-\\ntion to the care of the sick and wounded,\\nhad made for herself an honored place in\\nhistory, that people began to realize that\\nnursing was a thing to be learned that it\\nrequired intelligence, willingness and fitness,\\nas well as charity, affection and love. It\\nhas been said and written scores of times,\\nsays Miss Nigtingale, that every woman\\nmakes a good nurse. I believe, on the con-\\ntrary, that the elements of nursing are all\\nbut unknown.\\nBut how came it that she devoted herself\\nto the profession of nursing? Simply from\\na feeling of love and duty. She need never\\nhave devoted herself to so trying and dis-\\nagreeable an occupation. She was an ac-\\ncomplished young lady, possessing abundant\\nmeans. She was happy at home, a general\\nfavorite, and the centre of an admiring\\ncircle. She was blessed with everything\\nthat might have made social and domestic\\nlife precious.\\nBut she abjured all such considerations,,\\nand preferred to tread the one path that leads", "height": "3502", "width": "2462", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0456.jp2"}, "457": {"fulltext": "HEROISM IN WELL-DOING.\\n421\\nto suffering and sorrow. She had always a\\nyearning affection for her kind. She taught\\nin the schools, she visited the poor, and,\\nwhen they were sick, she fed and nursed\\nthem. It was in a little corner of England\\nthat she lived and worked Embley in\\nHampshire but one can do as much good\\nwork in secret as in the light of day.\\nHer Heart in Her Work.\\nThe gay world opened before her. She\\nmight have done what other young ladies do\\nin town. But her heart led her elsewhere.\\nShe took an interest in the suffering, the\\nlost, and the downtrodden. She visited the\\nhospitals, the jails, and the reformatory insti-\\ntutions. While others were spending de-\\nlightful holidays in Switzerland or Scotland,\\nor by the seashore, she was engaged in a\\nGerman nursing school or in a German hos-\\npital. She began at the beginning. She\\nlearned the use of the washing cloth, the\\nscrubbing brush and the duster and she\\nproceeded by degrees to learn the art of\\nnursing. For three months she continued\\nin daily and nightly attendance on the sick,\\nand thus accumulated a considerable experi-\\nence in the duties and labors of the hospital\\nward.\\nOn Miss Nightingale s return to England\\nshe continued her labors. The Hospital for\\nSick Governesses was about to fail for want\\nof proper management, and she undertook\\nits care. She denied herself the affection of\\nher home, and the fresh breath of the country\\nair, to devote herself to the dreary hospital\\nin Harley Street, where she gave her help,\\ntime and means to the nursing of her sick\\nsisters. Though the institution was saved,\\nher health began to fail under the heavy\\npressure, and she betook herself for a time\\nto the health-giving breezes of Hampshire.\\nBut a new cry arose for help. The\\nCrimean War was raging. There was a\\ngreat want of skilled nurses. The wounded\\nsoldiers were lying at the hospitals on the\\nBosphorus almost uncared for. She obeyed\\nher noble impulses, and at once went to\\ntheir help. She embarked in a ship bound\\nfor Scutari. It was at great risk at the risk\\nof life, hardships, dangers and perils of all\\nsorts. But who thinks of risk when duty\\nimpels the brave spirit Miss Nightingale\\nundertook everything that was asked of her.\\nShe went into the midst of human suffering,\\nnursed the wounded soldiers and sailors,\\norganized the system of nursing, and under-\\ntook the control of the whole.\\nKissed Her Very Shadow.\\nThe wounded were inexpressibly relieved\\nby the patient watching and care of the\\nEnglish lady. The soldiers blessed her as\\nthey saw her shadow falling over their pil-\\nlows at night. They did not know her\\nname; they merely called her The Lady\\nof the Lamp.\\nHe sleeps Who o er his placid slumber bends\\nHis foes are gone, and here he hath no friends.\\nIs it some seraph sent to grant him grace\\nNo Tis an earthly form with human face\\nThe soldiers worshipped the maiden lady.\\nThey forbore from the expression of any\\nrough language that might hurt her. When\\nan operation was necessary, they bore the\\nagony without flinching. They did all they\\ncould to follow her advice and example. She,\\non her part, took quite an affection for the\\ncommon soldiers. She not only looked\\nafter their personal comfort, but corre-\\nsponded with their friends in England, in\\nIreland and in the far-away straths of Scot-\\nland. She saved their money. She devoted\\nan afternoon every week to receive and for-\\nward their savings to their friends at home.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0457.jp2"}, "458": {"fulltext": "422\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nHow thankful the soldiers were And how\\nthoughtful and careful she was of them\\nThe simple courage, she says, the en-\\nduring patience, the good sense, the strength\\nto suffer in silence what nation shows more\\nof this in war than is shown by our com-\\nmonest soldiers? Say what men will, there\\nis something more truly Christian in the\\nman who gives his time, his strength, his\\nlife if need be, for something not himself\\nwhether it be his queen, his country or his\\ncolors than in all the asceticism, the fasts,\\nthe humiliations, the confessions, which have\\never been made; and this spirit of giving\\none s life, without calling it a sacrifice, is\\nfound nowhere so truly as in England.\\nThus we have much to learn from the life\\nand example even of the commonest soldier!\\nAnother Heroine.\\nMiss Stanley followed Miss Nightingale\\nto the Crimea. A second detachment of\\nfifty nurses and ladies were confided to her\\ncharge. She took them to Constantinople,\\nand she remained in Turkey for four months,\\nassisting in the naval hospital at Therapeia,\\nand afterward in establishing the military\\nhospital at Koulalee.\\nWhen she saw the wounded soldiers\\nbrought from Inkerman, she wrote to a\\nfriend at home I know not which sight is\\nthe most heart-rending to witness fine\\nstrong men worn down by exhaustion, and\\nsinking under it, or others coming in fear-\\nfully wounded. The whole of yesterday\\nwas spent in sewing mattresses together,\\nthen in washing and assisting the surgeon to\\ndress their wounds, and seeing the poor fel-\\nlows made as comfortable as the circum-\\nstances would admit of, after five days con-\\nfinement on board ship, during which their\\nwounds were not dressed. Out of the\\neleven wards committed to my charge.\\neleven men died in the night simply from\\nexhaustion, which, humanly speaking, might\\nhave been stopped, could I have laid my\\nhands upon such nourishment as I know\\nthey ought to have had.\\nOn Miss Stanley s return to England she\\ndevoted herself to befriending the soldiers\\nwives and widows. She purchased a house\\nand garden in York Street, Westminster,\\nwhere she founded a large industrial laun-\\ndry. She obtained a contract from the gov-\\nernment for the supply of army clothing,\\nand thus secured a large amount of employ-\\nment for the forlorn women. Miss Stanley\\nthrew herself with great energy into the\\nrelief and nursing of the women of the\\nLondon poor. She was only one where\\nthere ought to have been ten thousand, but\\nthe true woman finds and does the work\\nthat lies nearest her. She gave her life\\ndaily to the service of others. She was an\\nembodiment of self-sacrifice.\\nSublime Resignation.\\nIt did not matter whether she secured the\\napprobation of others or not. To some,\\nwho wished to tread the steps she had trod,\\nshe said Never forget Dr. Arnold. I\\nrepeat his last entry in his journal to myself\\ntwice every day: Let me labor to do God s\\nwill, yet not anxious that it should be done\\nby me rather than by others if God so wills,\\nit should be.\\nGood example always brings forth good\\nfruits. Other ladies followed faithfully in\\nthe same steps. Among these may be\\nmentioned Miss Florence Lees, who has not\\nonly nursed in the field, but taught to others\\nthe duties of scientific nursing. Strange\\nhow the first impulse to do a good thing\\nsprings up in the heart. It was the loss of a\\ndear brother in China that nerved her for the\\neffort. He had died in the naval hospital at", "height": "3481", "width": "2472", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0458.jp2"}, "459": {"fulltext": "HEROISM IN WELL-DOING.\\n423\\nShanghai, and, as she thought of him,\\ntended by strangers hands, she felt a great\\nlonging to do for others what others had\\ndone for him.\\nThis happened when she was a girl. The\\nlate Bishop of Winchester was consulted.\\nHe said that it was too early to devote her-\\nself to such a mission. Wait until your\\ngrief has passed away, wait till your mind\\nhas matured. But her mind was possessed\\nby resolution and hope. Miss Nightingale\\nwas her heroine. She consulted her, and ob-\\ntained from her the best advice and help as\\nto her training. At last, after three years\\nwaiting, she entered St. Thomas Hospital,\\nand began her training as a nurse. She\\nafterward went to King s College Hospital,\\nand acquired valuable practical experience.\\nTo complete her knowledge of nursing she\\nspent several years in Holland, Denmark,\\nGermany and France. At Kaiserworth, in\\nGermany, she passed through the usual prac-\\ntical training of a nursing deaconess, and\\nreceived a certificate as to her efficiency.\\nIn the Hospitals of Paris.\\nThrough the kindness of M. Hasson, the\\nDirector-General of civil hospitals in France,\\nshe obtained permission to work in the chief\\nhospitals of Paris, under the charge of\\nRoman Catholic Sisters. It was with great\\nsatisfaction to the Sisters, and with great\\nhappiness to herself, that she worked so\\nharmoniously with them, notwithstanding\\ntheir differences of religion and thought.\\nThe kindness of the Sisters to her, per-\\nsonally, was beyond words. She was, in-\\ndeed, treated by them more as a sister and\\nfriend than as one separated from them by\\ncreed, country and secular life. In addi-\\ntion to the practical knowledge thus gained,\\nshe learned from them many a lesson of\\nquiet cheerfulness under difiliculties, of hope\\nand trust in an overruling Providence, even\\nwhen all things seemed going wrong, and of\\nfirm self-denial and an utter giving up of\\nthemselves and all that they had to Him\\nwhose they were and whom they served.\\nHere, too, she learned what a virtue cheer-\\nfulness is for all those who would serve and\\nnurse the sick.\\nA French Official.\\nMiss Lees last and most valuable train-\\ning was obtained through the kind permis-\\nsion of General Leboeuf, then French Min-\\nister of War. Through his influence she\\nwas permitted to work in the French Mili-\\ntary Hospitals, a training which was doubly\\nvaluable through the interest taken in her\\nimprovement by the late Michel Levy, the\\nDirector-General. He had been what he\\ntermed a comrade of Miss Nightingale ip\\nthe Crimea, and for her sake he made Miss\\nLees pass through a severer course of dis-\\ncipline and training than, he admitted, would\\nhave been possible for any French Soeur or,\\nas a general rule, for many Englishwomen.\\nThe practical experience, however, which she\\nderived through the personal kindness of M.\\nMichel Levy, was so valuable that in the\\ncourse of her after life it was never forgotten.\\nShortly after her return to England after\\nthis long probation in nursing, war was de-\\nclared between France and Germany. The\\nnewspapers were full of the results of the\\nfirst sanguinary battles. The conquering\\narmy swept on and left the wounded to die.\\nThey lay in the open air by thousands, un-\\ntended and uncared for. The nurse s heart\\nwas roused by pity and by sympathy. She\\nat once set out for the Continent, accom-\\npanied by three German ladies, but they\\nwere soon detached in different directions.\\nShe went across Belgium to Cologne, where\\nshe saw the wounded soldiers lying in rows", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0459.jp2"}, "460": {"fulltext": "424\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nalong the station platform. Then to Cob-\\nlentz and Treves, and then to Metz, which\\nwas her station. It was a rough journey\\nwhen she left the steamer. In the midst of\\nthe confusion she had lost her baggage, but\\nshe was there herself alone.\\nMarshal Bazaine had taken refuge in\\nMetz, with a large body of French troops,\\nand Prince Frederick was investing the city\\nwith an army of Germans and Bavarians.\\nMiss Lees was appointed to a hospital at\\nMarangue, in the rear of the investing army.\\nShe reached the place. It was only an old\\nfarm-steading. The barn was the hospital.\\nIt was a very comfortless place. The accom-\\nmodation was miserable. The nurse slept\\non a bit of sacking filled with straw. There\\nwas little medicine and less food. The prin-\\ncipal disease to be encountered was typhus\\nfever, occasioned by the dampness of the\\ntrenches. The Lazaretto or hospital accom-\\nmodated twenty-two beds and these were\\nalways full.\\nIn the Fever Hospital.\\nThe nurse of a field-hospital has no light\\ntask before her. When the men came in\\nfever-stricken, they had first to be cleaned.\\nWhen they came from the trenches, their\\nfeet were so incrusted with dirt that it had to\\nbe scraped off before they could be washed.\\nWhen cleansed, they were put into their\\nbeds, and had medicine administered to\\nthem. There was the washing out of the\\nmen s blackened mouths, the attention to\\ntheir personal cleanliness, the wetting of\\ntheir heads by night to keep down delirium,\\nbathing their hands and faces, changing their\\ncouches to prevent bed-sores and all this\\nin the midst of the most depressing circum-\\nstances.\\nThe men sometimes became furiously de-\\nlirious. Miss Lees has herself told the story\\nof her life in the Fever Hospital before Metz,\\nOne night she was alone. She heard a\\nnoise in the room upstairs. She went up\\nand found a deHrious soldier trying to force\\nthe door. The poor fellow wished to go\\nhome to his liebe mutter. She called\\nanother patient to her help, and, telling him\\nhe would go home to-morrow, got him into\\nhis bed again.\\nAnother delirious soldier, down-stairs,\\nsearched for a knife under his bed-fellow s\\npillow. Miss Lees got hold of the knife,\\nwhich was really there, and hid it in some\\nobscure place. But, when the surgeon came\\nround, she entreated that she might not\\nagain be left alone in the hospital at night.\\nAppealed to the Crown Princess.\\nThe nurse worked there for many weeks\\nMany died, some were cured and invalided\\nhome, and a few returned to duty. At last\\nBazaine surrendered his prisoners were sent\\ninto Germany, and the Red Prince and his\\ntroops marched on to the siege of Paris,\\nMiss Lees had done her work at Metz, but\\nher self-imposed task was not over. She\\nwas taken, partly on a locomotive engine, to\\nHomburg, where she was put in charge of\\nan hospital of wounded soldiers, under the\\nsuperintendence of the Crown Princess of\\nPrussia. The principal difficulty she had to\\nencounter there was in securing proper ven-\\ntilation. German doctors hate draughts.\\nSo soon as the nurse opened a window the\\ndoctors, in her absence, ordered it to be\\nclosed. She then appealed to the Crown\\nPrincess, and at length obtained the proper\\nventilation.\\nIt is unnecessary to follow the history of\\nMiss Lees. After her return from Germany\\nshe prepared to make a voyage to Canada\\nand the United States, to inspect the hospi-\\ntals there. She accomplished her object in", "height": "3503", "width": "2461", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0460.jp2"}, "461": {"fulltext": "HEROISM IN WELL-DOING.\\n425\\nthe winter of 1873, and saw everything that\\nwas to be seen at Halifax, Quebec, Mont-\\nreal, Toronto, Cleveland, New York, Bos-\\nton, Philadelphia, Washington and Anna-\\npolis.\\nMany women, young and old, nobly de-\\nvote themselves to work such as this. They\\ngo into the courts and alleys of our towns\\nand cities and nurse those who might lie and\\ndie but for their services. Neither hands\\nnor their minds are stained by performing\\nthe humblest and most repeUing offices for\\ntheir suffering fellow-creatures. Look at\\nthe noble examples of brave self-sacrificing\\nwomen who, in our civil war, devoted them-\\nselves on the battle-field to the care of the\\nwounded and the dying. All the annals of\\nheroism furnish no deeds more illustrious or\\nmore noble. The names of these devoted\\nheroines are among the brightest in our\\ncountry s history.\\nThe Profession of Nurse.\\nLook also in our great hospitals and see\\nthe self-denying young women who are\\nschooling themselves in the great art of\\nnursing the sick. This is fast becoming a\\nprofession, and it illustrates the noblest and\\ngrandest qualities of womanhood.\\nThere is a great deal of heroism in com-\\nmon life that is never known. There is,\\nperhaps, more heroism among the poor than\\namong the rich. The former have greater\\nsympathy with their neighbors. A street\\nbeggar said that he always got more cop-\\npers from the poor street girls than from\\nanybody else. Virtue commands respect\\neven in a beggar s garb.\\nMen talk about heroes and the heroic\\nelement, says Mr. Binney there is abund-\\nance of room for the display of the latter in\\nmany positions of obscure city life, and many\\nof the former have lived and worked nobly.\\nthough unknown. The noblest biographies\\nhave not always been written. There have\\nbeen great, heroic men, who have toiled on\\nin their daily duties, and suffered, and sacri-\\nficed, and kept their integrity; who served\\nGod, and helped their connections, and got\\non themselves who have displayed, in all\\nthis, qualities of character, of mind, cour-\\nage, goodness, that would have honored a\\nbishop, a general, or a judge.\\nThe Rescue.\\nStriking examples may be given of men\\nand women devoting themselves to rescue\\nthe lives of shipwrecked mariners at sea. A\\nstory comes to us from Western Australia\\ntelling us of the brave deeds of a young\\ngentlewoman Grace Vernon Bussell. The\\nsteamer Georgette had stranded on the shore\\nnear Perth. A boat was got out with the\\nwomen and children on board, but it was\\nswamped by the surf, which was running\\nvery high. The poor creatures were all\\nstruggling in the water, clinging to the boat,\\nand in imminent peril of their lives, when,\\non the top of a steep cliff, appeared a young\\nlady on horseback.\\nHer first thought was how to save these\\ndrowning women and children. She gal-\\nloped down the cHff how, it is impossible\\nto say urged her horse into the surf, and,\\nbeyond the second line of the breakers, she\\nreached the boat. She succeeded in bring-\\ning the women and children on shore.\\nThere was still a man left, and she plunged\\ninto the sea again, and rescued him. So\\nfierce was the surf that four hours were\\noccupied in landing fifty persons.\\nAs soon as they were on shore the\\nheroic lady, drenched with sea-foam, and\\nhalf fainting with fatigue, galloped off to her\\nhome, twelve miles distant, to send help and\\nrelief to the rescued people on the sea-beach.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0461.jp2"}, "462": {"fulltext": "il\\nni\\nThe Bivouac of the Dead.\\nHE muiBed drum s sad roll has beat\\nThe soldier s last tattoo\\nNo more on life s parade shall meet\\nThe brave and fallen few.\\nOn fame s eternal camping-ground\\nTheir silent tents are spread,\\nAnd glory guards with solemn round\\nThe bivouac of the dead.\\nThus neath their parent turf they rest,\\nFar from the gory field.\\nBorne to a Spartan mother s breast\\nOn many a bloody shield.\\nThe sunshine of their native sky\\nShines sadly on them here,\\nAnd kindred eyes and hearts watch by\\nThe heroes sepulchre.\\nYon marble minstrel s voiceless stone\\nIn deathless song shall tell.\\nWhen many a vanished year hath flown,\\nThe story how ye fell\\nNor wreck, nor change, nor winter s blight.\\nNor time s remorseless doom,\\nCan dim one ray of holy light\\nThat gilds your glorious tomb.\\nTheodore O Hara.", "height": "3503", "width": "2757", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0462.jp2"}, "463": {"fulltext": "HEROISM IN WELL-DOING.\\n427\\nHer sister now took up the work. She\\nwent back through the woods to the shore,\\ntaking with her a provision of tea, milk,\\nsugar and flour. Next day the rescued\\nwere brought to her house, and cared for\\nuntil they were sufficiently recovered to\\ndepart on their solitary ways. It is melan-\\ncholy to have to record that Mrs. Brook-\\nman, the heroine s sister, took cold in the\\nmidst of her exertions, and died of brain\\nfever.\\nThe Last Boat.\\nNot less brave was the conduct of a young\\nwoman in the Shetlands, who went to sea to\\nsave the lives of some fishermen, when no\\none else would volunteer to go. A violent\\nstorm had broken over the remote island of\\nUnst, when the fishing fleet the chief stay\\nof the inhabitants was at sea. One by one\\nthe boats reached the haven in safety but\\nthe last boat was still out, and it was\\nobserved by those ashore that she was in\\ngreat difficulties. She capsized, and the\\nsailors were seen struggling in the water.\\nAt this juncture Helen Petrie, a slender lass,\\nstepped forward and urged that an attempt\\nto rescue them should be made at all\\nhazards. The men said it was certain death to\\nthose who wished to put off in such a storm.\\nNevertheless, Helen Petrie was willing to\\nbrave death. She hastily stepped into a\\nsmall boat. Her sister-in-law joined her;\\nand her father, lame of one hand, went in to\\ntake charge of the rudder. Two of the\\ncrew of the fishing-boat had already disap-\\npeared, but two remained, clinging to the\\nupturned keel of their craft. It was these\\nthe women went to save.\\nAfter great exertions, they reached the\\nwreck. Just as they approached it one of\\nthe men was washed off, and he would cer-\\ntainly have been drowned had not Helen\\ncaught him by his hair and dragged him\\ninto the boat. The other man was also res-\\ncued, and the whole returned to the haven\\nin safety. Helen Petrie afterward earned\\nher bread in obscurity as a domestic servant,\\nuntil her death some time later reminded\\npeople who knew her story of her existence.\\nHeroines must, one would suppose, be\\nabundant in a country where such a thing\\ncould happen.\\nAnd Grace Darling Who can forget her\\nthe heroic woman of the Longstone\\nLighthouse The desolate Fern Islands lie\\noff the northeast coast of Northumberland\\na group of stern basaltic rocks, black and\\nbare, with a dangerous sea roaring about\\nthem. In stormy weather they are inaccessi-\\nble for day.3 and weeks together. They\\nhave no other inhabitants but the gulls and\\npuffins that scream about the rocks. But on\\nthe farthest point, the Longstone Rock, a\\nlighthouse had been erected to warn off the\\nships passing between England and Scot-\\nland. Two old persons a man and his\\nwife and a young woman, their daughter,\\nwere the keepers of the lighthouse, on a\\nwild night in September, 1838.\\nOn the Rocks.\\nThe steamer Forfarshire was on its voyage\\nfrom Hull to Dundee. The ship was in bad\\ncondition. The boilers were so defective\\nthat the fires had to be extinguished shortly\\nafter she left Hull. Nevertheless, she toiled\\non until she reached St. Abb s Head, when\\na terrible storm drove her back. She drifted\\nthrough the night before the wind, until, in\\nthe early morning, she struck with tremen-\\ndous force on the Hawkers rocks.\\nThe ship broke her back, and snapped in\\ntwo. Nine of the crew took possession of\\na boat, and drifted through the only outlet\\nby which it could have escaped they were", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0463.jp2"}, "464": {"fulltext": "428\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\npicked up at sea and taken into Shields.\\nMost of the passengers and crew were swept\\ninto the sea and drowned. The fore part of\\nthe vessel remained stuck on the rock it\\nwas occupied by nine persons, crying for\\nhelp.\\nTheir cries were heard by Grace Darling\\nat the lighthouse, half a mile off. It was the\\nlast watch before extinguishing the light at\\nsunrise, and Grace was keeping it. Although\\nthe fog was still prevailing, and the sea was\\nstill boisterous, she saw the wrecked passen-\\ngers clinging to the windlass in the fore part\\nof the vessel. She entreated her father to\\nlet down the boat and go to sea to rescue\\nthe drowning people. William Darling de-\\nclared that it would be rushing upon certain\\ndeath. Yet he let down the boat, and Grace\\nDarling was the first to enter it. The old\\nman followed. Why speak of danger The\\nchances of rescue, of self-preservation, were\\ninfinitesimal. But God strengthened the\\nwoman s arm, as He had visited her heart\\nand away the two went, in dread and awe.\\nThe Nine Survivors.\\nBy dint of great care and vigilance the\\nfather succeeded in landing on the rock and\\nmaking his way to the wreck, while Grace\\nrowed off and on among the breakers, keep-\\ning her boat from being dashed to pieces.\\nOne by one the nine survivors were placed\\nin the boat and carried to the lighthouse.\\nThere the mother was ready to receive them,\\nto nurse them, to feed them, and to restore\\nthem to health and strength. They re-\\nmained there for three days, until the storm\\nabated, and they could be carried to the\\nmainland.\\nThe spirit of the nation was stirred by the\\nheroic act. Gifts innumerable were sent to\\nGrace Darling. Artists came from a dis-\\ntance to paint her portrait. Wordsworth\\nwrote a poem about her. She was offered\\none hundred dollars a night to sit in a boat\\nat the Adelphi Theatre during a shipwreck\\nscene. But she would not leave her sea-girt\\nrock. Why should she leave the light-\\nhouse What place so fitting to hold this\\nqueen One who visited her speaks of her\\ngenuine simplicity, her quiet manner, her\\ngenuine goodness.\\nVisit from a Duchess.\\nThree years after the rescue symptoms of\\nconsumption appeared. In a few months\\nshe died, quietly, happily, religiously. Short-\\nly before her death, she received a farewell\\nvisit from one of her own sex, who came in\\nhumble attire to bid her Godspeed on her\\nlast journey. The good sister was the Duch-\\ness of Northumberland, and her coronet will\\nshine the brighter for all time because of that\\naffectionate and womanly leave-taking. Joan\\nof Arc has her monument. Let Grace of\\nNorthumbria have none. The deed is regis-\\ntered\\nIn the rolls of Heaven, where it will live,\\nA theme for angels when they celebrate\\nThe high-souled virtues which forgetful earth\\nHas witnessed.\\nOn the mainland of Northumberland,\\nnearly opposite the Fern Islands, stands the\\nCastle of Bamborough, on a high triangular\\nrock. In olden times it was a strong defence\\nagainst the incursions of the Scots, as well as\\nan important fortress during the civil wars of\\nEngland. Of late years it has been used as\\na refuge for shipwrecked mariners, chiefly\\nthrough the instrumentality of Lord Crewe,\\nBishop of Durham, and Archdeacon Sharpe.\\nLord Crewe s noble appropriation of this\\ncastle has been productive of more good\\nthan any private benefaction in this country.\\nShipwrecks frequently occur along the coast,\\nand every possible aid is given to the suffer-", "height": "3481", "width": "2470", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0464.jp2"}, "465": {"fulltext": "HEROIS^I IN WELL-DOING.\\n429\\ners. *._partinents are fitted up for thirty\\nmariners. A constant patrol is kept every\\nstormy night along the eight miles of coast,\\nand if a ship appears in danger the life -boat\\nis launched. During fogs bells are rung to\\nkeep off the vessels.\\nWhen a ship is observed in distress a gun\\nis fired, and a second time if the vessel is\\nstranded or wrecked upon the rocks. At\\nthe same time a large flag is hoisted, so that\\nthe sufferers may know that their distress is\\nobserved from the shore. There are also\\nsignals to the Holy Islands fishermen, who\\ncan put off from the islands at times when no\\nboat from the mainland can get over the\\nbreakers. Every help is given to those on\\nland as well as at sea by this Samaritan\\nCastle on the cliffs.\\nBrave Ida Lewis.\\nThus, like a mighty guardian angel,\\nsays WiUiam Howitt, stands aloft this noble\\ncastle, the watching spirit over those stormy\\nand perilous seas, and this godlike charity\\nlives, a glorious example of what good a\\nman may continue to do upon earth for ages\\nafter he has quitted it. When any one sees\\nat a distance the soaring turrets of this truly\\nsacred fabric, majestic in its aspect as it is\\ndivine in its office, dispensing daily benefits\\nover both land and sea, let him bless the\\nmemory of Lord Crewe, as thousands and\\ntens of thousands, in the depths of poverty,\\nand in the horrors of midnight darkness,\\nhave had occasion to do, and as they shall do\\nwhen we, like him, sleep in the dust.\\nWorthy to rank with the immortal name of\\nGrace Darling is that of our own Ida Lewis,\\nwhose courage often braved the storm and\\nwhose strong arm often pulled the oar, that\\nmeant rescue to the shipwrecked sailor.\\nDaughter of the sea, she exhibited the\\nnoblest heroism in facing danger to save im-\\nperilled Hves. No lines are fine enough in\\nwhich to write herthrilling story. Thesimple-\\nhearted girl was none the less womanly\\nbecause made of iron fabric. She puts to\\nshame the empty lives of multitudes of women\\nwho do nothing but eat, dress and die, with-\\nout the record of one noble deed.\\nPatience is the exercise\\nOf saints, the trial of their fortitude\\nMaking them each his own deliverer,\\nAnd victor over all\\nThat tyranny or fortune can inflict.\\nJohn Mii,ton.\\nFor still we hope\\nThat in a world of larger scope,\\nWhat here is faithfully begun\\nWill be completed, not undone.\\nA. H. Clottgh.\\nBut all through life I see a cross\\nWhere sons of God yield up their breath\\nThere is no gain except by loss,\\nThere is no life except by death,\\nThere is no vision but by faith,\\nNor glory but by bearing shame.\\nNor justice but by taking blame\\nAnd that Eternal Passion saith,\\nBe emptied of glory and right and name.\\nOi,RiG Grange.\\nIt is related of the Duke of Wellington\\nthat when a certain chaplain asked him\\nwhether he thought it wofth while to preach\\nthe Gospel to the Hindoos, the man of dis-\\ncipline asked, What are your marching\\norders? The chaplain replied: Go ye\\ninto all the world, and preach the Gospel to\\nevery creature. Then follow your orders,\\nsaid the Duke; your only duty is to\\nobey.\\nThough an unwelcome, an unpopular and\\na perilous duty, there have been found men\\nin all ages who have followed the directions\\nof their Saviour. Christ preached to the\\nJews and the Gentiles. St. Paul was the\\nfirst missionary apostle. He founded churches", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0465.jp2"}, "466": {"fulltext": "430\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nin the East, at Corinth, at Ephesus, at Thes-\\nsalonica, and elsewhere, and left his bones at\\nRome, where he had gone to preach the\\nGospel.\\nThe career of a missionary is the most\\ndutiful and heroic of all. He carries his\\nlife in his hand. He braves danger and\\ndeath. He lives among savages, sometimes\\namong cannibals. Money could not buy\\nthe devotion with which he encounters peril\\nand misery. He is only upheld by the mis-\\nsion of mercy with which he is charged.\\nWhat are called advanced thinkers have\\nnothing to offer us for the self-imposed work\\nof missionaries at home and abroad. Mere\\nnegation teaches nothing. It may pull\\ndown, but it cannot build up. It may shake\\nthe pillars of faith and leave nothing to hold\\nby, nothing to sanctify, to elevate, or to\\nstrengthen our natures.\\nReady to Perish.\\nBut savage human nature is vile.\\nHow can they be vile to us, said Bishop\\nSelwyn, who have been taught by God not\\nto call any man common or unclean? I\\nquarrel not with the current phrases of\\npoor heathen and the perishing savages.\\nFar poorer and more ready to perish may\\nbe those men of Christian countries who\\nhave received so much and can account for\\nso little. Poorest of all may we be our-\\nselves, who, as stewards and ministers of the\\ngrace of God, are found so unfaithful in our\\nstewardship. To go among the heathen as\\nan equal and a brother is far more profitable\\nthan to risk that subtle kind of self-righteous-\\nness which creeps into the mission work akin\\nto the thanking God that we are not as\\nother men are.\\nHow much are we indebted to St. Augus-\\ntine, the first missionary into England, for\\nour Anglo-Saxon liberty, our integrity, our\\nlearning, and even our missionary enterprise I\\nAt the end of the sixth century Augustine,\\nor Austin, was consecrated by Pope Gre-\\ngory, and entitled beforehand Bishop of\\nEngland. He proceeded on his mission,\\nand, after pjissing through France, he landed\\nat Thanet, accompanied by a number of\\nmonks. He was received by Ethelbert,\\nKing of Kent, at Canterbury. The king\\nhad married a Christian wife, and, partly-\\nthrough her influence, he became baptized,\\nand was afterward admitted to the Church.\\nThe missionary labors of Augustine extended\\nthroughout the country until, at his death\\nin 605, the greater part of England was re-\\ndeemed from paganism.\\nA Famous Missionary.\\nMissionaries entered the south of Africa\\nand made their way to the north amid\\ndifficulties innumerable. They lived among\\nthe natives, and gave their minds and\\nhearts and souls to them, endeavoring to\\nbring them to a belief in the loving doctrines\\nof Christianity. Men of education, accus-\\ntomed to the comforts and conveniences of\\ncivilized life, endured privations of the most\\nsevere kind, which were all the harder to\\nbear as they fell upon their wives and chil-\\ndren. No motives of gain could support\\nthem in such a position. Dr. Moffat crossed\\nthe Orange River, in 1820, as a missionary\\nto the Bechuana tribes.\\nWhen Moffat went among these tribes he\\ndid not know their language, and he had\\nnone to teach him. Unmindful of their\\nabominations, and fearless of their ferocity,\\nhe lived entirely among the natives. He\\nwalked, he slept, he wandered, he hunted,\\nhe rested, he ate, he drank with them, till he\\nthoroughly mastered their language, and\\nthen he began to preach to them the Gospel.\\nHe labored on among difficulties and afflic-", "height": "3496", "width": "2470", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0466.jp2"}, "467": {"fulltext": "HEROISM IN WELL-DOING.\\n431\\ntions of all kinds, occasionally attended\\nby threats of murder, without any apparent\\ntokens of success.\\nAt length they believed in him and in the\\nhealing words he taught. The once naked,\\nfilthy savages became clothed and cleanly.\\nIdleness gave place to industry-. They built\\nhouses and cultivated gardens. Provisions\\nfor the wants of the mind kept pace with\\nthose of the body they reared schools for\\nthe young, and chapels for the old. And\\nthus the work of education and religion\\nrapidly advanced.\\nMoffat was followed by Livingstone, his\\nson-in-law, who gave his life to the same\\nwork. Livingstone opened up the heart of\\nAfrica, and trod the lands of savage tribes\\nwhere the foot of the white man had never\\ntrod before. He travelled thousands of\\nmiles among savage beasts, and still more\\nsavage men, and was often delivered from\\ndanger almost by the skin of his teeth\\nbut he never doubted in the success of the\\nGospel, even among the degraded. He did\\nnot live to see the outbreak of war in South\\nAfrica, and to hear of the thousands of men\\nwho were slain in resisting the attempt to\\nannex their territories a most deplorable\\nsacrifice of innocent lives.\\nMen, even savage men, judge each other\\nby their deeds, not by their words. Profess-\\ning Christians, like venders of bad coinage,,\\noften expose genuine religion to suspicion.\\nIn true kindness of heart, said Dr.\\nGuthrie, sweetness of temper, open-handed\\ngenerosity, the common charities of life,\\nmany mere men of the world lose nothing\\nby comparison with such professors and\\nhow are you to keep the world from saying,\\nAh your man of religion is no better than\\nothers nay, he is sometimes worse\\nWith what frightful prominence does this\\nstand out in the never-to-be-forgotten answer\\nof an Indian chief to the missionary who\\nurged him to become a Christian. The\\nplumed and painted savage drew himself up\\nin the consciousness of superior rectitude,\\nand with indignation quivering on his lip\\nand flashing in his eye, he replied, Christian\\nlie Christian cheat Christian steal, drink,\\nmurder Christian has robbed me of my\\nlands and slain my tribe Adding, as he\\nhaughtily turned away, The Devil, Christian I\\nI will be no Christian May such reflec-\\ntions teach us to be careful how we make a\\nreligious profession And having made the\\nprofession, cost what it may, by the grace ot\\nGod let us live up to it, and act it out.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0467.jp2"}, "468": {"fulltext": "i\\n1\\nNATURE S BEVERAGF,\\n432", "height": "3476", "width": "2754", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0468.jp2"}, "469": {"fulltext": "CHAPTE^R XXVIII.\\nTEMPERANCE.\\nNTEMPERANCE, like other\\nvices, is deceitful and seductive.\\nIt frequently presents a beau-\\ntiful exterior, while within it is\\nall corruption, and as loath-\\nsome as a sepulchre, full of\\ndead men s bones. Youth is\\ncharmed and cheated by it, and old age, it\\noften covers with shame and disgrace.\\nYou have seen a calm cloud appear in the\\nheavens in a clear day in summer. At a\\ndistance it looked beautiful. Its shining\\nedges glittered with delusive splendor, and\\nit moved up the sky as majestically as the\\nchariot of Jehovah. As it approached, the\\nbeauty disappeared on man below, it cast\\ndark, threatening glances the golden fringes\\nvomited forth forked lightning and what\\nafar, seemed mellow music, was soon found\\nto be harsh and terrific thunder. Soon the\\ntempest was abroad on earth. The beasts\\nof the field fled for shelter to the shadow of\\nthe high rock the yellow harvest of the\\nhusbandman was swept away, and man him-\\nself fled, a fugitive before the storm.\\nIntemperance is like that cloud It\\npromises shelter and shade to the thirsty\\nspirit, but soon bursts upon human life with\\nall the fury of the tempest. It sends its\\nblast and sweeps its tide, into the domestic\\nretreat, across tribunals of justice, and up to\\nthe very altars of the church of God.\\nYou have seen a serpent winding himself\\nnoiselessly through a bed of flowers, and\\nanon lifting his crested head above the\\nfoliage, and sporting himself with many a\\ngambol. You have admired his beauty,\\nagility, and strength, and watched his move-\\nments with intense delight. Even the wild\\nflowers which bloomed in his path, seemed\\nto bend forward to kiss his beautiful form,\\nand he in return moved aside, lest he should\\ncrush the fragile things, and scatter their tiny\\nleaves.\\nAs you gazed, a mother and her child\\ncame on, and stooped to pluck those flowers.\\nThen was the ferocious nature of the monster\\ndeveloped. Around those shrinking forms\\nhe coiled himself, and with a hissing sound\\nstruck them with his fangs. Crushed and\\nwounded, the child and mother were left to\\ndie, while the splendid monster moved away,\\nand was soon lost from view in the dense\\nforest.\\nAn Inward Fire.\\nIntemperance is such a serpent To youth\\nit presents a beautiful exterior. The wine\\nsparkles in the cup, and the gay festival\\nattracts the unthinking throng. At last it\\nbiteth like a serpent, and stingeth like an\\nadder. Within its coil the victim groans\\nand writhes in agony, until the poison, like\\nboiling blood, flows through all his veins,\\nreaching his brain and setting his soul on fire.\\nYou have seen the ocean calm and tran-\\nquil. As far as the eye could reach not a\\nruffle disturbed the surface of the waters.\\nLike a sea of glass, it reflected the form of\\nevery bird which took passage over it, and\\ngave back from its clear bosom, the polished\\nbeauty of the heavens above. Invited by\\n433", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0469.jp2"}, "470": {"fulltext": "434\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nthe serenity of ocean and sky, the mariner\\nlaunched his vessel, and spread his canvas to\\ncatch the gentle breeze.\\nSoon a change came on. The wind blew\\nlike the hurricane. The waves tumbled and\\nfoamed upon each other. The ship plunged\\nand quivered, and strained in the trough of\\nthe sea. Sunken rocks now lifted their huge\\nforms and sharp peaks high above the water,\\nand anon were buried deep, by the mountain\\nbillow. Morning came and a vessel, with-\\nout mast, or rudder, or sail, or chart, or\\ncompass, or crew, floated upon the bosom of\\nthe surge.\\nA Baseless Dream.\\nIntemperance is like that ocean To the\\nyouthful voyager it seems as calm and placid\\nas a sea of glass. But as he ventures out;\\nas the green hills of sobriety disappear, the\\nwaves of destruction begin to dash around\\nhim the whistling blasts of poverty make\\nfrightful music the moaning of the pitiless\\nstorm disturbs his dream of pleasure, and\\nere long he is tossing, an unmanageable\\nwreck, upon the sea of temporal and eternal\\nruin. To point out the dangers of the sea\\nof intemperance, and utter a solemn warning\\nto the young, will be the object of the\\npresent chapter, and while I do this, I\\nrequest your serious and candid attention.\\nI need not stop to prove that our young\\nmen need caution upon this point. Although\\nthe temperance reformation has laid its heavy\\nblows upon the shivering sides of the domin-\\nion of king Alcohol, his throne is not yet\\noverturned. His dark, infernal empire still\\nstands. The frowning fortress from which\\nhe hurls firebrands, arrows, and death, still\\nlifts its front in the midst of the Christian\\ncommunity, and on every side, are monu-\\nments of his dreadful conquests.\\nTrue it is, that intemperance has been\\ndriven from the marriage festival, and the\\nchamber of mourning from the pulpit of\\nthe minister, and the bench of the judge\\nbut unabashed, it has sought out other\\nhomes, and laid its snare for new victims.\\nWhat then, we ask, are the solemn warnings\\nwhich intemperance gives to young men\\nThe drunkard shall come to poverty.\\nPoverty in itself, is not a crime. No dis-\\ngrace belongs to the man, who by reverses\\nin business, is led down from affluence to\\ndestitution. The poorest man who walks\\nthis earth of sorrow, or who toils in vain to\\nclothe and feed his children, can stand in the\\npresence of the man of millions, with no con-\\nsciousness of inferiority. But when poverty\\nis the result of crime, it becomes at once\\nsinful and disgraceful when it is the result\\nof gambling, or drinking, or lying, it covers\\nits victim with a robe of shame. Under any\\ncircumstances it is exceedingly unpleasant\\nand inconvenient to be very poor, and by\\nmost men, poverty is dreaded as one of the\\nworst of evils.\\nPoverty and Misery.\\nNow poverty is as sure to follow a course\\nof intemperance, as light and heat to follow\\nthe rising of the sun. God has so ordained.\\nIn His word He has declared that the\\ndrunkard shall come to poverty, and wher-\\never we behold drunkenness, we also gaze\\nupon squalid misery. Go into any commu-\\nnity and you will find affluence to be the\\nresult of sobriety, and destitution the sure\\nattendant of dissipation. You will expect\\nto find in the neat, vine-covered cottage, a\\nfrugal, temperate man and in the hovel,\\nunpainted and desolate, the windows shat-\\ntered, the doors unhinged, an intemperate\\nand dissipated man.\\nSo universal is this fact, that we expect a\\nyoung man to ruin himself, squander his", "height": "3481", "width": "2470", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0470.jp2"}, "471": {"fulltext": "TEMPERANCE.\\n435\\nproperty, become idle and worthless, when\\nhe commences a course of intemperance.\\nWe predict with almost unerring certainty,\\nthat a few years will make him a pauper or\\na criminal, and leave him in a mad-house or\\nprison, the victim of his crimes. The\\nwretched beings, who sometimes reel along\\nour streets, the sport of boyhood and the\\nshame of manhood the miserable creatures,\\nwho hide in cellars, and barrooms, and\\ntaverns, were once as respectable as those\\nwho now walk the earth, with proud step\\nand lofty look.\\nWarnings Not Heeded.\\nBut forgetting the declaration of the Al-\\nmighty, the drunkard shall come to pov-\\nerty, they took the social glass, and drank\\nits contents. The pledge was disregarded,\\nand the warnings of temperate men, un-\\nheeded. Step by step, they descended from\\nrespectability and affluence to wretchedness\\nand woe. Property was wasted, and char-\\nacter sacrificed. Self-respect took its flight,\\nand those who were once the enterprising,\\nindustrious, hopeful young men of our\\ncountry, are now the reeling, staggering in-\\nhabitants of dens and caves of infamy.\\nOne such case came under my own ob-\\nservation. A young man, with whom I was\\nintimate in childhood, became intemperate.\\nWhen a boy, he had a generous heart and a\\nnoble disposition. We all loved him, and of\\nour circle, he was the pride and ornament.\\nFriends looked to him with the highest an-\\nticipations of his future usefulness. When\\nat a proper age he commenced business, and\\nfor awhile was exceedingly prosperous. The\\nlittle property, which he had at first, in-\\ncreased, and he was looking forward to\\nwealth and affluence.\\nIn an unfortunate hour, he learned to\\ndrink the social glass, and drain the madden-\\ning bowl. Kind friends hung around him,\\nand presented their remonstrances the\\nchurch of which he was a member, uttered\\nits kindest warnings; an aged mother hung\\nupon his steps with prayers and tears.\\nHeedless of them all, he clung to his boon\\ncompanions and his cups. I shall never\\nbecome a drunkard, he said; I can con-\\ntrol my appetite your fears are vain.\\nSoon business was neglected. The little\\nfortune which he had accumulated was scat-\\ntered to the blast, and discouraged and dis-\\nheartened, he became a drunkard. The\\nassociates of his early days stood aloof; the\\nchurch, with many tears, and after many\\nfruitless efforts to reform him, withdrew the\\nhand of fellowship his mother died of a\\nbroken heart, and the young man himself,\\nmortified and ashamed, fled from the scenes\\nof his youth and the companions of his child-\\nhood.\\nOn a Bed of Straw.\\nOne morning a messenger called at my\\ndoor, and asked me to visit a young man in\\ndistress. Amid the peltings of the pitiless\\nstorm, I hastened to the place where he was,\\nI found the street, the house if house, the\\nwretched tenement could be called. Up into\\nthe third story, I traveled, amid dirt and\\nfilth, and entered the chamber to which I\\nwas directed. In a cold room, on a bed of\\nstraw, covered with a single moth-eaten\\nblanket, burning with fever, tortured with\\nrheumatism and delirious with drink, was\\nstretched a young man. I could not recog-\\nnize his countenance or recall a single feat-\\nure.\\nI do not know you, I said to him. He\\ncast on me a look of agony, and replied\\nGood God, has intemperance blotted out\\nmy manHness and made me so much a\\ndemon that my early associates do not", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0471.jp2"}, "472": {"fulltext": "436\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nknow me? Then he covered his face, and\\nwept aloud.\\nHis story is soon told. He was the\\nyoung man, who in early life had given such\\npromise of usefulness. To one degree after\\nanother in his fatal habit he had advanced,\\nuntil his money was gone, and he was a\\npauper. To the city he had wandered in\\nsearch of employment, and here I found\\nhim, in the condition which I have described,\\nwith both feet frozen, and none to minister\\nto his wants. In the wretched dwelling and\\namong the more wretched occupants, he\\nfound no sympathy. He learned in all the\\nbitterness of his spirit that the drunkard will\\ncome to poverty.\\nThe End Sure to Come.\\nI would not affirm that every case of in-\\ntemperance will end like this, or that the\\ndestruction of every intemperate young man\\nwill be as speedy and as awful. But sooner\\nor later poverty will crush the spirits of\\nevery man who looketh upon the wine\\nwhen it is red, or who goeth after strong\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0drink. He may bear up against it for\\nawhile, but it will ultimately overthrow him.\\nIt will perplex and disturb his business it\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2will mortgage his house and his farm it\\nwill place an attachment upon his stocks it\\nwill ruin all his prospects for this life and the\\nlife to come.\\nIntemperance ruins the physical constitu-\\ntion. In the creation of the body, God has\\ndisplayed infinite wisdom. More wonderful\\nthan any complicated work of human hands,\\nit bears the impress of divinity. It is fear-\\nfully and wonderfully made, and is*a speci-\\nmen of workmanship, unrivaled in the arts.\\nThe Maker of man did not form him thus\\nfearfully, in order that he might be broken\\nby disease, and crushed by vice. He made\\nhim upright. He stamped the blush of\\nhealth upon his cheek, and sent him forth to\\nlook upon the earth beneath his feet, and the\\nheavens above his head.\\nYou have seen a beautiful machine, fulfill-\\ning the purpose of its maker, and working\\nwith order, regularity and harmony. You\\nhave examined it closely, and admired the\\nperfection of all its parts. You have com-\\nplimented the skill of the artisan, and\\ndeemed his work, one of extraordinary inge-\\nnuity. You have also seen that machine dis-\\narranged the order and harmony of its\\nmovements gone, and entirely incapable of\\nperforming the work for which the maker de-\\nsigned it.\\nThe human body under the influence of\\nintemperance, is like that disarranged and\\nbroken instrument. The purpose of its\\ncreation is defeated, and it becomes the seat\\nof numberless diseases, aches and pains,\\nsorrows and woes, for which God never has\\nintended it.\\nOld Before His Time.\\nThe drunkard presents a fearful specimen\\nof a broken-down man. From the head to\\nthe feet, he is covered with disease. He\\nmoves along the street, with downcast eyes,\\nor staggers to and fro, with heavy tread\\nhis nerves are all unstrung, or braced beyond\\nendurance his head aches and throbs his\\nbloated face spoils the beauty of a human\\nbeing his knees totter and smite against\\neach other his livid lips are closed over\\nteeth decayed his swollen tongue prevents\\nhis ready utterance his idiotic look, be-\\ntokens speedy death his eye glares at one\\ntime, and is languid and bloodshot at an-\\nother and his brain is racked with a thou-\\nsand fancies, and agonized by a thousand\\nfears.\\nGo search earth s darkest caves, and bring\\nup to the blaze of day, the inmates of your", "height": "3504", "width": "2457", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0472.jp2"}, "473": {"fulltext": "THANKSGIVING\\n(437)", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0473.jp2"}, "474": {"fulltext": "438\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nprisons and dungeons your insane asylums\\nand mad-houses, and none will you find so\\nmiserable and degraded, so lost to all that\\nmakes up a perfect man, as the victim of in-\\ntemperance. Take some case within the\\nlimits of your own observation some friend\\nwho tampered with the terrible destroyer,\\nand has been ruined.\\nYou knew him perhaps, when no shade of\\ncrime had passed over his manly counte-\\nnance when he walked with his head erect,\\nand his bosom bared to the storms of life\\nwhen life flashed from his eye, and vigor was\\nin his step when the stranger noted his\\nmanly form, and correct deportment. You\\nhave seen that form bend, not with age you\\nhave seen that step falter, not from fear, and\\nthat once noble form reeling from the drunk-\\nard s purgatory, to lie besotted and beast-like\\nby the wayside. You have seen everything\\nnoble and beautiful in this God-made body,\\nutterly spoiled the divinity in man crushed\\nout of him, and the temple of the immortal\\n50ul laid in ruins.\\nAn Empty Boast.\\nNor will young men avoid this terrible de-\\nstruction of the human system, if they enter\\nthe fatal avenues which lead to the drunk-\\nard s fate. They may suppose that they\\nhave power to drink, or refrain from drink-\\ning. They may boast how strong they are,\\nand how easily they can dash the inebriating\\ncup to the earth. But their boasts are idle\\nas the wind. The great army of drunkards\\nwith crippled limb, limping form, bleeding\\nheart, and maddened brain, thousands of\\nwhom die every year, utter their notes of\\nwarning. The broken, diseased, death-\\nstruck forms of prostrate men, as they lie\\nalong the path of life, give fearful admoni-\\ntion.\\nThe opening graves, into which the re-\\nmains of men are tumbled after they have\\ncursed themselves and all around them\\ngraves on which the flowers seem unwilling\\nto bloom, and over which the birds appear\\nto sing in sadness, graves wet by no widow s\\ntears, consecrated by no orphan s lament\\ngraves which angels shun, or by which they\\nweep in sorrow, as on their mission of mercy,\\nthey pass through the city of the dead, all\\nsound the alarm, and by the dumb eloquence\\nof their speechless harmony, bid the living\\nthrong beware of the drunkard s hopeless\\ndoom.\\nWhat the Demons Wrote.\\nYou remember the famous dream or vision\\nof a distinguished clergyman. Dr. George\\nB. Cheener, of Salem, Mass., for the publica-\\ntion of which, he was beaten in the street\\nand imprisoned. The scene was said to be\\nin Deacon Giles Distillery. The dreamer\\nsaw the demon-workmen at their unhallowed\\nemployment, manufacturing with great zeal\\nthe elixir of death. He heard their fero-\\ncious and blasphemous expressions. While\\nhe gazed on, barrel after barrel of the\\naccursed poison was drawn from the cistern\\nand prepared for sale.\\nThe employment of one or more of the\\nfiends was, to mark and label these barrels\\nand hogsheads of rum and gin, which had\\nbeen put up. Quenching a coal of fire in\\nthe liquid which he had made, the infernal\\nmonster went to work. On all the barrels,\\nin letters which would remain invisible until\\nthe first glass was drawn, and then burn\\nforth like fire, he wrote, consumption,\\npalsy, fever, plague, insanity,\\nmadness, redness of eyes, sorrow of\\nheart, death, damnation, and the like\\nexpressions, which, when the liquid death\\nhad been sold, and the buyers drew from it\\nfor the first time, flashed out in the faces of", "height": "3504", "width": "2467", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0474.jp2"}, "475": {"fulltext": "TEMPERANCE.\\n439\\nthe thirsty customers, who stood waiting\\naround the bar.\\nWith fearful consternation they saw\\nwritten in words of flame, the diseases which\\nthey knew were preying upon their systems,\\nand fled from the place in terror.\\nWhat that dreamer saw in vision, we\\nbehold an existing fact. Though on the\\nbarrels in the rumshops, we do not find the\\nwords of fire written there by demon hands,\\nyet we behold more fearful inscriptions on the\\nliving, dying countenances of men who walk\\nour streets. Gleaming forth from fiery eyes;\\nseen on the wan and haggard cheek read\\nin the stooping forms and staggering tread\\nheard in the hollow cough; felt in the aching\\nhead, and beating heart, proving to us that\\nintemperance\\nIs palsy, plague, and fever,\\nAnd madness all combined,\\nare the fearful inscriptions of death and dam-\\nnation.\\nThe Curse of Home.\\nIntemperance poisons domestic felicity.\\nThe sacredness of home has often been\\nmade the subject of discourse. Scarcely a\\nperson reads this, whose heart has not\\nbeat quickly, at the mention of the endear-\\ning word. Home it is associated with all\\nthe pleasant scenes of childhood and youth\\nwith the names of companions, whose coun-\\ntenances are now forgotten with the prayers\\nof parents and the love and kindness of\\nbrothers and sisters, who are now sleeping\\nin the grave. Nor, until human nature be\\nchanged, will this love of home be entirely\\ndestroyed.\\nMen who wander far away, over ocean\\nand land, who journey from cHme to clime\\nas fugitives and wanderers, look back with\\npleasant emotions to a spot which they call\\ntheir home. But intemperance, like\\ngambling, is calculated to corrupt home,\\npoison its joys and wither its flowers. Many\\na family has been made wretched and miser-\\nable by intemperance. The fire on many a\\nhearth has been put out by the drink of\\ndeath. Indeed, intemperance so transforms\\na man s character that he is not prepared to\\nfulfill the relations which exist between him\\nand his family.\\nChanged Into a Tyrant.\\nHowever kind he may be when sober,\\nhov/ever he may provide for the wants of his\\nfamily, if he is an intemperate man, he can-\\nnot be a good husband or a good father.\\nThe thing is impossible. Drink transforms\\nthe kind and indulgent sire into the harsh,\\nunjust and crael tyrant. Men, who when\\nsober are affectionate and pleasant, become,\\nunder the influence of inebriation, fierce and\\nwicked.\\nAwhile since I became acquainted with a\\nfamily, the head of which was a kind, inof-\\nfensive man, who loved his wife and his chil-\\ndren with a pure affection. He was one of\\nthose peculiar men whose hearts are full of\\nkindness for all around. He was, to some\\nextent, an intemperate man, and when\\ndrunken was the very reverse of what he\\nwas in his sober moments. On one occa-\\nsion he returned to his home in a state of\\nintoxication, and for awhile sat brooding by\\nthe fire, silent and stupid.\\nSoon his son came in, a little, bright, in-\\ntelligent boy of six years. The child at\\nschool had received the commendation of\\nhis teacher, and in his joy had hastened\\nhome to repeat the words of kindness to his\\nparent. Somewhat boisteriously he rushed\\ninto the room, and, with eyes glistening with\\ndelight, threw himself into the father s arms.\\nThat brutal sire, changed from friend to", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0475.jp2"}, "476": {"fulltext": "410\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nfiend, uttered a fearful oath, threw the child\\nfrom him, struck lym in the face, and dashed\\nhim to the earth. What other acts of\\nviolence he would have committed we know\\nnot.\\nThe mother seized her child, the blood\\ngushing from his nose and mouth, two of\\nhis teeth gone, and fled with him to the\\nhouse of a neighbor. When reason re-\\nturned, had that father committed murder,\\nhe could not have been more penitent. He\\ncursed his cups, and yet clung to them. He\\ncursed the man who sold him drink, and\\nstill hung about his workshop of death. He\\nwept and prayed over his child, and still\\ncontinued in the habit which caused the\\ninjury.\\nNot long ago the papers gave an account\\nof a frightful murder. A husband, who in\\nhis sober moments was kind to his compan-\\nion, in a fit of intemperance, had destroyed\\nher life, and sent her spirit to the bar of\\nGod. Notwithstanding his vow to be her\\nsupport and protection, he caused her death.\\nWith his own hands he beat and mangled\\nher form, until the vital principle was gone,\\nand then retired to bed to sleep the drunk-\\nard s sleep and dream the drunkard s dream.\\nA Source of Endless Trouble.\\nIs man bad enough, with all his depraved\\npowers and passions, to accomplish deeds\\nlike this, without the aid of reason-robbing\\ndrink No crushed as human nature is\\nby sin, it needs some artificial stimulant to\\nbring it up to a point, where it can sever so\\nrecklessly the dearest ties of nature, and\\ncommit crimes, at which cruelty itself revolts.\\nAnd we find intoxicating drink furnishing\\njust the excitement which is required to\\ninduced husbands to imbrue their hands in\\nthe blood of their wives, and fathers to de-\\nstroy the lives of their children. We find\\nintemperance leading to family disturbances\\nand social discord. We find it to be the\\ncause of sorrow in households, and divisions\\nbetween companions who have lived plea-\\nsantly for years.\\nIntemperance impairs the intellect, and\\nproduces idiocy and madness. There is a\\nstrong sympathy between the physical and\\nmental parts of man. One acts upon the\\nother. If the body is diseased, the mind is\\nalso found to be in an unhealthy condition.\\nIf the mind is unhinged or thrown from its\\nbalance, the body suffers accordingly. The\\nintellectual is more valuable than the physical.\\nIt will endure when the body has decayed,\\nand will continue to be, after the material\\nstructure has disappeared.\\nShining Talents Dimmed.\\nNow intemperance acts directly upon the\\nmind itself, and indirectly through the\\nmedium of the physical constitution. The\\ninjury done to mind by this vice, is beyond\\nall calculation. Men of strong and vigorous\\nintellect have been bowed by it shining\\ntalents have been dimmed and tarnished,\\nand the fairest prospects of intellectual great-\\nness blasted by its fatal influence. The\\nlegal and medical professions, and even the\\nministry, have lost some of their brightest\\nornaments, and been robbed of some of their\\nchoicest jewels, to gratify the lust of this\\naccursed Moloch.\\nMemory now recalls the form and coun-\\ntenance of one, who a few years since, bid\\nfair to stand among the first orators at the\\nbar. His professional, services were held in\\nhigh estimation; as an orator he was enthu-\\nsiastically applauded as a profound scholar,\\nan able statesman, a clear and vivid writer,\\nhe had but few superiors. The political\\nparty of which he was a member, nominated\\nhim for a seat in Congress, and but for the", "height": "3481", "width": "2461", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0476.jp2"}, "477": {"fulltext": "TEMPERANCE.\\n441\\nfatal habit of intemperance, he would have\\nbeen elected.\\nBut all the hopes of his youth were to be\\ndisappointed. The love of strong drink\\ngrew upon him he was seen in a state of\\nintoxication in the court-room confidence\\nin him was soon lost, and now if you will\\nvisit the city of his birth, you will find the\\nwreck of the once polished lawyer and\\naccomplished statesman. His once powerful\\nintellect is shattered, and although he was,\\nbut a few years since, the pride and admira-\\ntion of the bar, he dares not now attempt an\\nargument in open court.\\nAn Appalling Record.\\nA hundred other cases equally plain and\\npitiable might be produced. The history of\\nintemperance is full of them, and on every\\npage of its fearful record can be found the\\nnames of men, who have fallen from the\\nhighest summit of intellectual greatness, to\\nthe lowest depths of degradation and infamy.\\nThe ravages of intemperance in its last stages\\nare fearful indeed. The mind becomes en-\\ntirely overthrown, and loses all power of\\nself-control. Like a ship without rudder,\\nor chart, or compass, it plunges on the ter-\\nrible waters of a deep, dark sea.\\nHe who would see the intellect entirely\\ndethroned, and hell begun on earth, must\\nvisit the bed of a man suffering with the tor-\\nment of delirium trenieiis. The poor sufferer\\nis haunted by every image of terror, he sees\\nhorrid shapes, he hears horrid sounds.\\nImages, which no mortal man ever conceived\\nof before, start up, and throng around him.\\nSatan with all his legions come racing up\\nfrom pandemonium to hold their infernal\\nconclave in his chamber, beside his dying\\nbed. Ghosts of murdered men drag their\\nbleeding bodies from the grave and lay them\\nat his feet.\\nHe sees he hears he feels everything\\ndreadful. Each figure on the wall becomes\\na fiend, which looks upon him with glaring\\neye the friends who move about the room\\nin tearful silence, are to his disordered fancy,\\npale spectres, who cry avaunt, and shake at\\nhim their long, bony fingers the blanket\\nwhich covers him, he imagines to be a huge\\nsnarl of snakes and reptiles woven together,,\\nand feasting on each other. Inconceivable\\nterror takes possession of him he starts\\nfrom his bed in anguish he bids the fiends\\nbegone, and hears only their mockery. He\\nutters heart-rending cries, which echo far\\ndown the street at midnight he pleads with\\nhis physician to tear the strangling serpents\\nfrom his throat, to drive away the demons,\\nwho have come to torment him before his\\ntime.\\nThe Madness of Drink.\\nIn what prison or mad-house can you find\\ninsanity like this In what lone cell, or\\ndark chamber, can you find madness which\\nequals that of the dying drunkard In the\\ndarkest secrets of human misery the delirium\\ntremens has no counterpart, and as a source\\nof unspeakable anguish and unmitigated\\nmisery, it stands alone, unrivalled by any-\\nthing this side of perdition.\\nSuppose you, a man should build houses\\non the corners of every street, that from\\ntheir doors and windows he might let loose\\nupon the unthinking populace, mad dogs of\\nevery size and tribe, to bite the people, and\\nspread the poison of disease throughout the\\nwhole community what would be thought\\nof him Why, the law would lay its heavy\\nhand upon his murderous vocation, close\\nhis doors, and drag him to some place of\\nconfinement.\\nAnd here are men found on almost every\\n-Street whose sole business is to let loose", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0477.jp2"}, "478": {"fulltext": "442\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nupon society insanity and madness in their\\nworst forms, who send their rum dogs, mad\\nas Satan, to bite with venomed tooth the\\nloveliest members of our families, whose\\ntrade is to spread among men, the worst\\nkind of hydrophobia, and make war alike\\nupon the bodies and the souls of our fellow-\\ncreatures.\\nPitfalls and Snares.\\nIn all villages and cities, young men are\\nexposed to numberless temptations. On\\nevery side are the snares of the enemy, and\\nfrom the gay saloon with its glittering orna-\\nments, to the low hovel of wretched inebria-\\ntion, are found the sources of intemperance\\nand vice. Beside the open and known\\nresorts of infamy, are secret dens and caves\\nin which the wicked hide themselves, and\\ninto which the young are decoyed and\\nruined.\\nA friend entered one of the most public\\nbuildings in one of our cities, and came to\\nthe door of a room which refused him\\nentrance. He discovered a secret spring,\\nand touched it. The door flew open, and he\\nsaw in full operation the bar, and the gaming-\\ntable. Congregated there in the broad day,\\nand yet concealed from human view, were\\nthe wretched beings who make crime a\\npastime and sin a recreation. And other\\nsuch places there are in all our large cities,\\nwhose sole object is the destruction of the\\nyoung. To these facts it is worse than mad-\\nness to blind our eyes. They meet us on\\nevery hand they stare us in the face at\\nevery turn we take.\\nYoung men, it devolves on you to say\\nwhat shall be the future history of the tem-\\nperance reformation. It devolves on you to\\nsay how far the burning waves of intemper-\\nance shall sweep on, and where they shall be\\nstayed. I therefore call upon you, in the\\nname of common humanity, to arise in all\\nthe vigor of youth, and manliness, and arrest,\\nif possible, the tide of ruin which is sweep-\\ning over the beauty of our land. We need\\nwarm hearts and willing hands. The mon-\\nster with whom we have to contend, is more\\npowerful than kings and emperors, and will\\nnot be defeated without a struggle.\\nCome then to the work of humanity the\\nwork of God. It will ultimately triumph,\\nand intemperacce will be driven from the\\nworld. We may toil long against the evil,\\nbut victory will eventually crown our labors.\\nIt is the cause of human happiness, and\\nwould reflect glory upon the angels of God,\\nwere they permitted to engage in it. Be not\\ndiscouraged, though little may seem to be\\neffected.\\nGo Ahead.\\nNever doubt a righteous cause\\nGo ahead\\nThrow yourself completely in\\nConscience shaping all your laws,\\nManfully through thick and thin.\\nGo ahead\\nDo not ask who ll go with you\\nGo ahead\\nNumbers? spurn the coward s plea\\nIf there be but one or two,\\nSingle handed though it be,\\nGo ahead\\nThough before you mountains rise.\\nGo ahead\\nScale them certainly you can\\nLet them proudly dare the skies\\nWhat are mountains to a man\\nGo ahead\\nThough fierce waters round you dash.\\nGo ahead\\nLet no hardship baffle you\\nThough the heavens roar and flash,\\nStill undaunted, firm, and true.\\nGo ahead\\nGeorge A. Light.\\nInvoke the assistance of God o erhead,", "height": "3481", "width": "2470", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0478.jp2"}, "479": {"fulltext": "THE MAN WHO BLOWS HIS OWN TRUMPET.\\n443", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0479.jp2"}, "480": {"fulltext": "444\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nand do your duty well, and when the course\\nof life is run, and the last hour of human\\nprobation arrives, you will look back upon\\nyour efforts to stay the tide of crime, and\\nsave the drunkard from temporal and eternal\\ndestruction, with high and holy satisfaction.\\nAngels will whisper in your ear of men\\nredeemed from vice and crime, and by your\\nhand plucked as brands from the burning.\\nSuch tidings will be sweeter music to your\\nworn spirit, then all the anthems of the\\nearth, and though borne upon the blast, or\\nwafted on the gentle breeze, the flourish of\\ntrumpets, or the melody of the organ, may\\ndisturb the silence of your death-chamber,\\nthe memory of your good act, will kneel by\\nyour dying couch, and do its homage there,\\nand breathe upon you a sweeter strain than\\ncan be purchased by the wealth, the honors,\\nthe noisy pomp and parade of empires.\\nThe Coming Man.\\nThe coming man will bravely stand.\\nWithout the wine-glass in his hand,\\nA sun-crowned chieftain of the land\\nA landmark, like the lofty pine,\\nWhich lifts on high its plumes of fir,\\nWhose root no fickle winds can stir\\nHe, like an upright worshipper,\\nWill never stoop to taste of win\u00e2\u0082\u00ac\\nStrong of body, strong of soul,\\nFirm of purpose to control,\\nHe will spurn the tempting bowl\\nIn the shadow of the vine.\\nNo taint of wine in his full brains.\\nNo trembling hand will hold the reins\\nWhen he who rules shall drink no wine.\\nGeorge W. Bungay.\\nNot many years since, a young married\\ncouple from the far fast-anchored isle\\nsought our shores, with the most sanguine\\nanticipations of prosperity and happiness.\\nThey had begun to realize more than they\\nhad seen in the visions of hope, when, in an\\nevil hour, the husband was tempted to\\nlook upon the wine when it was red, andtO\\ntaste of it when it gives color in the cup.\\nThe charmer fastened around his victim\\nall the serpent spells of its sorcery, and he\\nfell and at every step of his rapid degrada-\\ntion from the man to the brute, and down-\\nward, a heart-string broke in the bosom of\\nhis companion. Finally, with the last spark\\nof hope flickering on the altar of her heart,\\nshe threaded her way into one of these\\nshambles where man is made such a thing\\nas beasts of the field would bellow at. She\\npressed her way through the bacchanalian\\ncrowd who were revelling there in their owa\\nruin.\\nThat My Husband\\nWith her bosom full of that perilous\\nstuff that preys upon the heart, she stood\\nbefore the plunderer of her husband s des-\\ntiny, and exclaimed in tones of startling\\nanguish, Give me back my husband\\nThere s your husband, said the man.\\nThat my husband What have you done\\nto him That my husband What have\\nyou done to that noble form that once, like\\na giant oak, held its protecting shade over\\nthe fragile vine that clung to it for support\\nand shelter That my husband With\\nwhat torpedo chill have you touched the-\\nsinews of that manly arm That my hus-\\nband\\nWhat have you done to that noble brow,\\nwhich he once wore high among his fellows,,\\nas if it bore the superscription of the God-\\nhead That my husband What have\\nyou done to that eye, with which he was\\nwont to look erect on heaven, and see in its\\nmirror the image of his God What\\nEgyptian drug have you poured into his\\nveins, and turned the fountains of his heart\\ninto black and burning pitch Give me\\nback my husband! Undo your basilisk", "height": "3497", "width": "2472", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0480.jp2"}, "481": {"fulltext": "TEMPERANCE.\\nUt\\nspells, and give me back the man that stood\\nAvith me beside the altar\\nSomewhere lives a small farmer of such\\nsocial habits that his coming home intoxi-\\ncated was once no unusual thing. His wife\\nurged him in vain to reform. Why, you\\nsee, he would say, I don t like to break\\noff at once it ain t wholesome. The best\\nway is always to get used to a thing by\\ndegrees, you know. Very well, old man,\\nhis helpmate would rejoin, see now if you\\ndon t fall into a hole one of these days, while\\nyou can t take care of yourself, and nobody\\nnear to take you out.\\nNot Too Suddenly.\\nSure enough, as if to verify the prophecy,\\na couple of days after, returning from a\\nglorious frolic, the old fellow reeled into his\\nown well, and, after a deal of useless scram-\\nbling, shouted for the light of his eyes to\\ncome and help him out. Didn t I tell you\\nso? said the good soul, showing her cap\\nfrill over the edge of the parapet you ve\\ngot into a hole at last, and it s only lucky\\nI m in hearing, or you might have drowned\\nWell, she continued, after a pause, letting\\ndown the bucket, take hold.\\nAnd up he came higher at every turn of\\nthe windlass, until the old lady s grasp\\nslipping from the handle, down he went to\\nthe bottom again. This occurring more\\nthan once, made the temporary occupant of\\nthe well suspicious. Look here, he\\nscreamed, in a fury at the last splash,\\nyou re doing that on purpose I ^Jtow\\nyou are\\nWell, now, I a7/z, responded his old\\nwoman, tranquilly, while winding him up\\nonce more, didn t you tell me it s best to\\nget used to a thing by degrees I m afraid\\nif I was to bring you right up on a sudden,\\nyou wouldn t find it wholesome. The old\\nfellow could not help chuckling at her\\nappHcation of his principle, and protested he\\nwould sign the pledge on the instant if she\\nwould lift him fairly out. This she did, and\\npacked him off to swear in, wet as he was.\\nA great drunkard in the Highlands of In-\\nverness-shire was led to attend a lecture on\\nTemperance, and was induced to become a\\nmember of a temperance society. For\\nmonths the craving of his appetite for strong\\ndrink was e.xcessive; but, true to his resolu-\\ntion, he set his face like a flint against every\\ntemptation. The marsh of his heart being\\nthus drained of one poison, he next received\\nthe seed of the Word into its soil. It was\\nhid there until quickened by the sun of\\nrighteousness, and nourished by the rains\\nand dews of the Spirit, when it brought\\nforth fruit in Christian life and character.\\nQueen Victoria and Donald.\\nHaving no settled occupation, he yet\\ncould not be idle and having by the help of\\na few friends managed to stock a little box\\nwith trinkets and other cheap ware, he set\\nout as a pedlar. In the course of his pere-\\ngrinations, he found himself at Balmoral,\\nand thinking that if he could get the pat-\\nronage of the Queen, it would help him\\ngreatly, he resolved to make the attempt.\\nThere was something in his look and man-\\nner, which at once commended him to the\\nfavor of some of the household officials,\\nwho had it in their power to put him under\\nthe notice of the Earl of Carlisle, then\\nattending the court as a Minister of State.\\nThe noble earl, with his usual frankness and\\ngoodness of heart, sympathized with Donald,\\nand promised to recommend his case to the\\nQueen. When Her Majesty came to know\\nit, Donald was commanded to appear in the\\nroyal presence, and met with a most graci-\\nous reception. Not only did the Queen", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0481.jp2"}, "482": {"fulltext": "446\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\npurchase his wares, but gave him permission\\nto wear the royal arms as the Queen s ped-\\nlar, and sent Donald away with a lighter\\nheart and a heavier purse than he had when\\nhe entered the royal chamber.\\nOn leaving, the Earl of Carlisle took him\\nto his room, and there Donald was presented\\nwith a glass of wine with which to drink the\\nQueen s health. Looking at it, he felt at\\nfirst a kind of trembling, but then, lifting his\\nheart in prayer for Divine aid, he said\\nYour lordship will excuse me; I cannot\\ndrink the Queen s health in wine, but I will\\ndrink it in water. The noble earl asked his\\nreasons.\\nMy lord, said Donald, I was a drunk-\\nard I became an abstainer, and I trust by\\nGod s grace I have become a Christian but\\nI know that if I were to taste intoxicating\\ndrink, it would at once revive an appetite\\nwhich is not dead but dying, and I should\\nmost likely go the whole length of the\\ndrunkard again. God has only promised to\\nsupport me in the path of duty, and that\\npath, in my case, is plainly to abstain.\\nThe noble earl at once commended Donald\\nfor his frankness and honesty, and in taking\\nleave assured him that it would afford Her\\nMajesty the highest satisfaction to know that\\nshe had amongst her loyal and devoted sub-\\njects one who, in the midst of such strong\\ntemptations, could maintain his principles\\nwith integrity and honor. Donald left re-\\njoicing to think that he had been enabled to\\ndrink to the glory of God.\\nWork of Temperance.\\nIt s a work of prevention and cure\\nA work for the rich and the poor\\nA work that is slow and yet sure\\nA work whose effects will endure.\\nThen shout for it, hearer and preacher\\nShout for it, master and man\\nShout for it, scholar and teacher\\nPraise it wherever you can.\\nThat intemperance is a vice of the most\\ndeplorable kind, and that it is productive of\\nfearful consequences, not only to the victims\\nthemselves, but to their friends and families,\\nis a fact that no intelligent individual will\\ndeny. The life of the habitual drunkard is\\none of misery, remorse, agony and shame.\\nHe is, in some sense, the mere sport of a\\ndemon. However kind, gentle and generous\\nhe may be in his rational, thoughtful and\\ntemperate moments, the chances are as a\\nthousand to one that when laboring under\\nthe influence of the intoxicating draught, he\\nwill either become an idiot, a brute or a\\nfiend.\\nAll sense of propriety will be forgotten,\\nall dignity of character will be thrown aside,\\nand the wretched sot or madman will play\\nsuch fantastic tricks as to make him a buf-\\nfoon and the sport of the heartless, or\\ngrovel so low as to render it necessary for\\nhim to be concealed from the public gaze\\nand the popular scorn.\\nWanderers and Vagabonds.\\nHow many hearts have been lacera.ted,\\nhow many hearths have been made desolate,\\nhow many families have been impoverished,\\nhow many beings have been hurried into un-\\ntimely graves through the agency of intem-\\nperance The catalogue, if it could be ob-\\ntained, would present a terrible array, indeed.\\nFond and favorite sons have become out-\\ncasts, wanderers and vagabonds, and doting\\nparents have wept tears of blood over the\\nprostrate, the fallen and the degraded. Char-\\nacter has been destroyed, health has been\\nimpaired, and even murder has been\\nprompted and perpetrated through the\\nagency of this terrible infirmity.\\nCan we wonder, then, that ever and anon\\nthe good and the wise throughout the land,\\nseeing- the wreck and the havoc that are", "height": "3502", "width": "2464", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0482.jp2"}, "483": {"fulltext": "TEMPERANCE.\\n447\\nproduced by the wine-cup, should rouse\\nthemselves to an intense appreciation of the\\nevils and the terrors of intoxication, and\\nshould make an extraordinary effort to era-\\ndicate, or, at least, .to modify, so desolating\\nand destructive a vice And yet the poor\\ndrunkard is often to be pitied. He is, him-\\nself, the keenest sufferer, and whenever per-\\nmitted to pause in his downward career, and\\nto contemplate the ignominy of his position,\\nhe must feel all the tortures of the\\ndamned.\\nIn many cases, too, he would repent, ab-\\nstain and retrace his footsteps, if a fitting\\nopportunity were afforded, and he could\\nexercise the moral power. It should be\\nremembered that some of our most enlight-\\nened physicians regard intemperance as a\\ndisease, and urge that it should be treated\\naccordingly. That it is so in many cases,\\nwe have not a doubt. Who, indeed, has\\nnot known of individuals, with the brightest\\nprospect before them, surrounded with\\nevery comfort and luxury, accomplished,\\ntalented and powerful, and yet so wedded to\\nthis one infirmity, so overcome and con-\\nquered by this subtle demon, as to have gone\\non step by step, plunging deeper and more\\ndownward into the fatal abyss, until reputa-\\ntion was sullied, fortune was impaired, and\\nlife itself was sacrificed.\\nThere are again, not a few of the erring,\\nthe struggling and the indigent, who are\\nscarcely masters of themselves. They give\\nway before the first blow of misfortune, and\\nin the excitement of the moment, they fly\\nto the maddening yet Lethean draught, as\\nto their last and only solace. And when\\nonce the fatal step is taken, when once the\\nreason trembles and totters, when the brain\\nbecomes inflamed, and the eye illumined by\\nan unnatural glare who may tell the con-\\nsequences\\nAnd is there no remedy? Can none of\\nthese unfortunates, these guilty, these reck-\\nless and despairing victims of a vile habit,\\nbe rescued from such a fearful career, and\\nrestored to the ways of well-doing Is the\\nsystem that has heretofore been pursued the\\nright one Should the poor drunkard be\\nsent to the prison or the almshouse, and\\nthus at once degraded and punished or\\nshould an effort be made to admonish, per-\\nsuade, reform and cure him There cannot\\nbe a doubt as to the proper policy under the\\ncircumstances.\\nWhile we denounce the vice, let us\\nendeavor to do something for the victims.\\nWhile we regard inebriety as a great mis-\\nfortune and a great sin, let us remember\\nthat we are all erring, human, finite and falli-\\nble beings, and that we owe it to society and\\nhumanity, to step aside from the ordinary\\npaths of life, to penetrate the hovels, the\\nalleys and the by-ways, if thereby we can\\nrescue and relieve a fallen brother. None\\nare all evil, and even the poor drunkard,\\ndespised, contemned and derided, as he, too,\\ngenerally is, may yet have, within his mind\\nand his heart, a lingering spark of generosity\\nand virtue, that only requires to be fanned\\nby kindness, sympathy and benevolence, to\\nkindle it into a bright and regenerating\\nflame.\\nAnd let an outraged public sentiment rise\\nup and declare that the infamous traffic shall\\nbe forever suppressed and driven from this\\nfair land of ours.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0483.jp2"}, "484": {"fulltext": "m\\n448", "height": "3481", "width": "2545", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0484.jp2"}, "485": {"fulltext": "CHAPTPKR XXIX.\\nGOOD HEALTH.\\nHE preceeding pages have been\\ndescribing and recommending\\nthe cardinal virtues. Do not\\nconsider it out of place to\\ninclude with these the duty\\nof good health. Can it be,\\nthen, that good health, which\\nis always considered a gift, is after all a duty,\\nor rather, can it be that it is your duty to\\nhave good health and to preserve it\\nMost emphatically do we say that the care\\nand preservation of health is a moral duty,\\nand must be ranked among the cardinal vir-\\ntues that is, among the virtues which are\\nthe most important and essential to our well-\\nbeing. Be prepared, therefore, for some\\nplain words upon this subject.\\nYou have no right to neglect your health,\\nor to do the least thing that shall injure it,\\nor to trespass on it one hair s breadth, or\\nignore those plain and simple rules by\\nwhich alone you can have a sound body.\\nAnd depend upon it, without a sound body\\nyou cannot have a sound mind or a sound\\nrehgion. I believe that half the doubts in\\nthe Christian life are due to dyspepsia. Your\\nwhole sky grows dark and cloudy, because\\nyou had something for breakfast you could\\nnot digest. Do you think this is an extrava-\\ngant statement? If it is not true, you will\\nhav.- to look a long time for anything that is\\ntrue.\\nEmerson says The first wealth is\\nhealth. Sickness is poor-spirited and cannot\\nserve anyone.\\nDio Lewis says: The building of a\\n29\\nperfect body, crowned by a perfect brain, is\\nat once the greatest earthly problem and\\ngrandest hope of the race.\\nSays Longtellow If the mind that rules\\nthe body ever so far forgets itself as to\\ntrample on its slave, the slave is never gen-\\nerous enough to forgive the injury, but will\\nrise and smite the oppressor.\\nBulvver says very pithily There are\\ntwo things in life that a sage must preserve\\nat every sacrifice, the coats of his stomach\\nand the enamel of his teeth. Some evils\\nadmit of consolations, but there are no com-\\nforters for dyspepsia and the toothache.\\nHealth and Hope.\\nThere is an old Arabian proverb that\\nsays He who has health has hope and\\nhe who has hope has everything.\\nIt is said by one of our best known\\nauthors upon practical subjects Few things\\nare more important to a community than the\\nhealth of its women. If strong is the frame\\nof the mother, says a proverb, the son will\\ngive laws to the people. And in nations\\nv. here all men give laws, all men need\\nmothers of strong frames.\\nSays Bickerstaff Health is the greatest\\nof all possessions a pale cobbler is better\\nthan a sick king.\\nDoctor Johnson says Health is so\\nnecessary to all the duties as well as pleas-\\nures of life, that the crime of squandering it\\nis equal to the folly.\\nCrime, does Doctor Johnson say?\\nYou thought crime was something com-\\n449", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0485.jp2"}, "486": {"fulltext": "450\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nmitted against the laws of the land. Crime\\nis forgery, or theft, or perjury, or murder.\\nFor crime men are arrested, tried in court,\\nsentenced to prison, perhaps hung by the\\nneck until they re dead. But there is\\nanother crime for which men are not\\narrested, but perhaps will be in the year\\n2000. It is the crime of violating the laws of\\nhealth. It is crime committed against your\\nown physical strength, against your rest,\\nagainst your brain, against your nerves, in\\nshort, against yourself that self which\\ncomes from God, which was meant for\\nhappiness, which feels every abuse and which\\nshould be cared for, developed, urged on to\\nthe highest perfection and become the\\nnoblest specimen of manhood or woman-\\nhood.\\nToo Much Head Knowledge.\\nIt is strange that so much needs to be\\nsaid and written upon a subject that so\\ndeeply affects us all. One reason of it is\\nignorance ignorance dense and dark as\\nmidnight. The great majority of people\\nhave never been taught as they ought to\\nhave been how to take care of the body.\\nWe take the young, and as turkeys are\\nstuffed before Thanksgiving, so we cram\\nthem with verbs and fractions and geography\\nand all the ologies some things that they\\nwill need, and a thousand others that will\\nnever do them any good yet we neglect to\\ntell them what to eat and how to eat it, what\\nis the advantage of work and exercise, what\\ntime to go to bed and how long to sleep,\\nwhat to do in order to be healthy and strong,\\nand so they grow up knowing everything,\\nyet knowing nothing. At least, they know\\nvery little of what is of the very first import-\\nance and value.\\nTo be sure, we hear and read a great deal\\nabout athletics. The colleges have their\\ncontests which often endanger life itself.\\nThis overdoing the thing is quite American.\\nWe rush to the extreme in almost everj^-\\nthing. We want to get rich in a day. We\\nwish to mount to the top of the ladder at a\\nsingle bound. We take our seat in a railway\\ncar, pull out a watch and wonder why we are\\nnot there. We are waiting for the time to\\ncome when we can sail from New York to\\nQueenstown in three days. If that time\\never comes, we shall talk about this slow\\ntravelling and curse the steamship com-\\npanies because they cannot make that little\\ndistance in two days.\\nRobust Women Wanted.\\nBut instead of overdoing athletics, let the\\nathletics have their proper place, not only in\\nour schools and colleges, but also among\\nthe people at large. Don t let woman be the\\nfrail, pale, dehcate creature she always is in\\npoetry and pictures. It is nothing against\\nher to have an arm which would put to\\nshame that of a washerwoman. It would\\nbe nothing against her dignity to have a\\nmuscle like that of an athlete. She would\\nbe more of a woman if she could walk\\ntwenty miles a day, row a boat five miles on\\na stretch, ride a horse equal to the best\\ncavalryman, sit gracefully on a bicvcle, and\\nwithout unduly straining her muscles, keep\\npace with the smart trotter whose owner\\nproudly remarks that he never takes any-\\nbody s dust. Do you think there is any-\\nthing indelicate about all this Better a\\nthousand times such indelicacy than that\\nnarrow-chested, pale, thin, headachy, dys-\\npeptic, whining, good-for-nothing woman-\\nhood which is a disgrace to the sex and an\\ninsult to the God whose sweetest blessing is\\nhealth and happiness.\\nYet there is something to be thankful for.\\nThere is a tremendous waking-up of public", "height": "3481", "width": "2476", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0486.jp2"}, "487": {"fulltext": "HEALTH AND BEAUTY", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0487.jp2"}, "488": {"fulltext": "452\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nsentiment upon this matter, and let all the\\nworld say amen. It is no longer considered\\na waste of time for boys to run and romp,\\nand play ball, learn to swim, and pride them-\\nselves on being pedestrians. Keep to your\\nbooks and your business, used to be said.\\nWe say so too, for books and business are\\namong the main objects of life. But we do\\nsay, and we expect you to have sense\\nenough to say, take exercise, breathe God s\\nfresh air, open your lungs to the winds that\\nblow, call on every muscle of j^our body and\\ntell it to wake up and do this for the sake\\nof books and business as well as for the sake\\nof a long life and the enjoyment that life\\nwas intended to give.\\nAvoid the Abuse.\\nIn truth it must be said that to overdo\\nathletics is just as pernicious as not to do\\nathletics at all. The doing no fault can be\\nfound with that the overdoing there is\\nthe source of all the trouble. It is nothing\\nagainst the benefits of proper exercise that\\nsome lazy youth, who could not keep on his\\ncapacious feet, got his skull cracked in a\\ngame of foot-ball. It is nothing against\\ngood sports that two young athletes came\\ninto collision and had to send for a doctor.\\nIt is nothing against eating a good meal that\\nsome stuffed glutton cares for nothing but\\neating, and wastes all his physical energy in\\ndigesting turkey and plum-pudding. We\\nare too apt to see the abuse of a thing the\\nabuse is nothing against the proper use. The\\ntruth is, young people are active, fond of life,\\nalways are in motion, in short, act out the\\nimpulses of nature. If it had been intended\\nthat they should be tied down and have no\\nliberty, they would have been born with a\\ntether to tie them up with.\\nWhile, therefore, no good can come from\\na mad wild pursuit of athletic sports, the\\nexercise of all the bodily functions within\\nproper limits is not only desirable, but is;\\nreally a moral duty it is one of the cardi-\\nnal virtues.\\nIt is a happy thing that public interest has.\\nbeen awakened on this subject. We are\\nbeginning to see that it is a hollow mockery\\nfor a man to pray and yet violate the laws of\\nhealth. We cannot serve God by prayers,\\nand praises while we are sinning against our-\\nselves. What is the harm in seeing a minis-\\nter or deacon who is robust and hearty\\none who has a most ungenteel appetite, who-\\nis broad in the chest and ruddy in the face,,\\nand impolite enough to eat ail that is placed\\nbefore him What is the harm in his being\\na picture of health\\nNo Piety in Rheumatism.\\nIt used to be thought that pale people\\nwith indigestion and headaches came nearest\\nto being sanctified. It was supposed there-\\nwas something very heavenly about them.\\nThey looked as if they were going into a\\ndecline and getting ready to bid the world\\nfarewell. Now, understand that pale religion\\nis not one wit better than healthy religion.\\nIn fact it is worse. No man can pray so\\nwell as the one with a good digestion, and\\nno woman can sing hymns so well as the one-\\nwho is not afflicted with catarrh. There is\\nno piety in rheumatism. To enjoy your\\nblessings to the fullest extent you must be\\nwell and hearty. Whatever people may\\nthink, there is no real affinity between pills,\\nand piety.\\nBut some people do not deserve to have\\ngood health. They have all sorts of aches,\\nand infirmities, and they ought to have.\\nThey are careless to the verge of rashness.\\nThey expose themselves to wind and:\\nweather they run constant risks they dose-\\nthemselves with patent medicines that are", "height": "3479", "width": "2483", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0488.jp2"}, "489": {"fulltext": "GOOD HEALTH.\\n453\\nenough to wreck any constitution, and then\\nwonder why they feel so miserably. They\\nhave a pain in the side they have headaches\\nespecially on Sunday they are always down\\nin the dumps and complaining of their bad\\nfeelings, which can be accounted for easily\\nenough. If they would take care of them-\\nselves and obsei-ve the simplest rules of\\nhealth, they would not always be whining\\nabout their bad feelings. Persons who\\nabuse themselves must expect to suffer from\\nthat abuse.\\nThe Rules of Health.\\nWhat, now, are some of the simple and\\nmost important rules of health\\nThe cavity of the Mouth should be\\ncleaned frequently and thoroughly, in order\\nthat taste and digestion may not be inter-\\nfered with by accretions upon its membrane.\\nIt should be protected, besides from injury\\nby bones, by too hot food and by other\\nharmful agencies, for these might cause in-\\nflammation and ulceration of the mucous\\nmembrane, and chewing as v/ell as swallow-\\ning would then be interfered with.\\nThe Teeth are frequently attacked by dis-\\nease. Hollow teeth and the bad odor caused\\nby them could easily be avoided by proper\\ncleansing of the mouth. The teeth should\\nbe protected from vegetable parasites as well\\nas from the accumulation of tartar these\\nshould be removed as quickly as possible, or\\ntheir bad effects counteracted. After each\\nmeal the teeth should be brushed with\\nalcohol or cologne, to prevent the particles\\nof food remaining in the mouth from decom-\\nposing, for these decomposing remains of\\nfood form a hot-bed for the growth of para-\\nsites, which, however, the alcohol will\\ndestroy. After this some innocuous powder,\\nsuch as chalk, egg-shells, bi-carbonate of\\nsoda or other alkali, may be used with the\\nbrush, in order to prevent the formation in\\nthe mouth of acids, which will attack the\\nteeth.\\nThe use of charcoal in cleaning the teeth\\nis less agreeable, and should be advised with\\nhesitation while ashes must be used under\\nno consideration, in spite of their property\\nof rendering the teeth white, for they de-\\nstroy the enamel, and so facilitate decay.\\nHealthy teeth, like healthy fat in man, are\\nnot perfectly white, but have a yellowish tint.\\nThose who find it impossible to clean their\\nteeth during the day, should at least not\\nneglect to clean them after the last meal,\\nfor the long interval from then until morn-\\ning gives abundant opportunity for the de-\\nposit and putrefaction of foreign substances.\\nCare of Teeth and Gums.\\nThe diligent and systematic brushing of\\nthe teeth with a brush which is not too stiff\\nis conductive to the health and beautiful\\ncolor of the gums. Gums which have not\\nbeen brushed for a long time lapse into a\\ncondition of morbid swelling, irritability and\\nsensitiveness when the use of the brush is\\nresumed, therefore, they will become cov-\\nered with blood, a condition, however, which\\nwill disappear after the brushing has been\\nrepeated a few times. The unbrushed and\\nneglected gums resemble the so-called\\nproud flesh, which bleeds with equal\\nreadiness, and which also needs to be hard-\\nened and cauterized.\\nThe Throat and mouth ought to be kept\\nclean for another important reason. It is\\nthis, that various and numerous germs of\\ndisease constantly enter here, and either\\nremain or pass beyond. These should be\\ngotten rid of by gargling the throat, espe-\\ncially in the morning, with some disinfectant\\nsolution prescribed by the family physician.\\nThis is to be done in the usual manner", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0489.jp2"}, "490": {"fulltext": "454\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nby throwing the head backward and driving\\nair through the water audibly.\\nBesides these germs of disease, there may\\nalso adhere to the throat shells, hulls, fish-\\nscales, crumbs of dry pastry, powdered\\npepper (which causes far more irritation than\\nwhole pepper), and other particles capable of\\ngiving much annoyance. The irritation pro-\\nduced in the throat and air passages by\\nmustard, mixed pickles, vinegar, spirits, and\\nby strongly seasoned food, may be amelior-\\nated by adding to them milk, eggs and\\nhoney, as is customary in Austria and Poland.\\nUncleanly Habits.\\nSweet foods and certain sour ones, which\\nare liable to injure the teeth, maybe neutral-\\nized in a similar manner, the remaining par-\\nticles being carried away by succeeding mild\\nfood and drinks. The proper preparation\\nand succession of food and drink is of great\\nimportance, as all substances which irritate\\nthe throat also injure it and bring it into\\na favorable condition for the invasion and\\nadhesion of the germs of disease.\\nA farther source of injury to the mouth\\nlies in the excessive use of tobacco, espe-\\ncially when accompanied by frequent expec-\\ntoration. The fact should not be overlooked\\nthat the saliva is a very important digestive\\nfluid, that it is formed from the blood, and\\nthat a waste of saliva amounts to a positive\\nloss of blood.\\nIt is a curious fact that many people, who\\nare scrupulously clean as far as their skin is\\nconcerned, are quite indifferent in regard to\\nthe cleanhness of their mouths, although\\nthe cleansing of the mucous membrane of\\nthe mouth is, in a certain sense, the more\\nimportant of the two.\\nEvery mother should see that her chil-\\ndren keep their mouths clean, and should\\nteach them to rinse and gargle both morning\\nand evening, as well as after each meal. Im\\ntreating affections of the throat, gargling\\nwith certain solutions plays an important\\npart, and children should be taught how to\\ngargle while in health, and at as early an\\nage as possible, because it is very difficult to\\nteach them after they have fallen sick.\\nMothers should also know how to inspect\\nthe mouth and throat, and, if need be, they\\nshould be taught by the family physician to\\ndo so. It is always better, especially if\\ndiphtheria is about, to call a physician in\\ntime, and this is made possible when the\\nthroat is inspected every morning.\\nOne more warning we must not omit.\\nNever allow your child to be kissed on the\\nmouth, if indeed at all. Teach him to turn\\nand hold his cheek in response to a visitor s\\nadvance.\\nInjury from Overeating.\\nIn order to keep the Stomach in a healthy\\ncondition, avoid filling it unreasonably and\\nfrequently with great quantities of food or\\ndrink. Heavy, indigestible food should be\\nshunned, while, on the other hand, it will not\\ndo to be too timid in regard to the heartiness\\nof a meal. Treat your stomach as you\\nwould any other organ it should be made\\nhardy and strong, without being overworked\\nbut it should by no means be allowed to\\nbecome weak and peevish from having its\\ntasks made too easy. Too much work\\nweakens not only the external muscles, but\\nthe muscles of the heart and stomach as\\nwell. A reasonable amount of work, how-\\never, insures good digestion and a hardy\\nstomach.\\nThe liquid and liquified matter in the\\nmtestines enters the blood by way of the\\ncapillaries tributary to the portal vein. This\\nvessel carries it to the liver, after modifica-\\ntion in whose structure it passes through the", "height": "3500", "width": "2478", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0490.jp2"}, "491": {"fulltext": "GOOD HEALTH.\\n455\\nlower vena cava into the right side of the\\nheart. In order to promote quick incorpora-\\ntion of digestive material in the systematic\\ncirculation the flow of blood in the portal\\nvein should be as rapid as possible, an end to\\nbe attained by preserving a healthy liver, by\\nfull inspirations and by certain movements of\\nthe abdominal muscles, while it may be far-\\nther promoted by careful regulation of the\\nbowels and by drinking water freely during\\ndisgestion in order to dilute the thick blood\\nof the portal vein. Decomposition of the\\ncontents of the intestines is prevented by the\\npresence of the bile, which at the same time\\ndilutes the digested masses and neutralizes\\nthe excess of acids formed in them.\\nNecessity of Pure Air.\\nRespiration is indispensable to the human\\norganism, since it provides the oxygen with-\\nout which we could not live. Health is in\\ndanger as soon as we begin to breathe an\\nimpure air, or as soon as the function of the\\nrespiratory organs is in any way disturbed.\\nWe should, therefore, take care to breathe\\nfresh and pure air only, and to protect our\\nlungs and chests from becoming disordered\\nin any way. The first requirement towards\\naccomphshing this end is a sufficient supply\\nof oxygen.\\nThe atmosphere of a hall where many\\npeople have been congregated for a length\\nof time is rendered impure by their exhala-\\ntions, so that breathing becomes difficult and\\noppressive, and health may be actually im-\\npaired. The injurious effect is due not\\nmerely to the carbonic acid gas which every\\nperson exhales and which accumulates in\\nsuch rooms, but also, according to recent\\ninvestigations, to a certain gas, probably\\nnitrogenous, which has not yet been defi\\nnitely ascertained. The deleterious condition\\nof the atmosphere in such rooms is farther\\naggravated by gas-lights, by perspiration and\\nother exhalations from the skin, and by\\nvarious forms of excrementitious matter. If\\nthe heating apparatus is not in proper work-\\ning order, certain gases of combustion are\\nliable to escape unperceived and still farther\\nto vitiate the atmosphere.\\nAn adult requires a little more than one\\ngallon of pure air every minute a single\\ngas-jet consumes as much oxygen as twelve\\npersons would require, a common iron stove\\ndouble this amount. Ventilation is the best\\nand, in fact, the only means of obtaining\\npure air. Opening doors and windows,\\ntherefore, can alone change the vitiated air\\nof the interior for pure fresh air from the\\nouter atmosphere. All rooms where a large\\nnumber of people assemble should have ar-\\nrangements for easy and thorough ventila-\\ntion. Schools, manufactories, shops, large\\nmeeting-rooms and halls should never be\\novercrowded, and their atmosphere should\\nbe completely renewed every day. Simple\\nfumigation is of no value for this purpose\\nventilation can be effected only by a complete\\nchange of air.\\nYour Sleeping Apartments.\\nThe room which demands most careful\\nattention in this respect is the sleeping apart-\\nment. Bedrooms should be light, sunny\\nand spacious, and there should be constant\\nchange of air, a window, either in the bed-\\nroom itself or in an adjoining room, being\\npartly opened at night. Babies clothmg\\nshould not be hung up to dry in a bed-\\nroom, nor should soiled clothes be kept\\nthere.\\nPlants and flowers in large numbers should\\nnot stand in the bedroom, as they exhale\\ncarbonic acid gas during the night in draw-\\nmg-rooms, parlors and sitting-rooms, on the\\nI contrary, plants with large leaves are bene-", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0491.jp2"}, "492": {"fulltext": "456\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nficial, because in the light of the sun they\\nexhale oxygen and absorb carbonic acid\\ngas.\\nThe most dangerous gases mixed with\\natmospheric air are carbonic acid and car-\\nbonic oxide. One-half of one per cent, of\\nthe latter, if contained in the inspired air,\\nwill prove fatal, after a limited time, to men\\nand animals. It is the fatal constituent of\\nilluminating gas. Other dangerous gases are\\nmarsh gas and sewer gas, the latter espe-\\ncially proving fatal at times to those whose\\nwork lies in or about sewers. These gases,\\nby entering an apartment slowly and im-\\nperceptibly, as they usually do, endanger\\nhealth and life. Probably their effect is due\\nin part to their affinity for oxygen, which\\ncauses a reduction of the oxygen of the\\nblood corpuscles, weakening the whole\\nsystem and predisposing it to infection.\\nLife in the Open Air.\\nAir containing much Dust is unhealthy.\\nEspecially does it affect young and growing\\npersons and those who have weak lungs.\\nFor those who are forced from some cause\\nto remain for any length of time in a room\\nfilled with dust particles the best protection\\nis a respirator.\\nSmoke in the air, tobacco-smoke in partic-\\nular, is deleterious to the respiratory organs.\\nPersons who are apt to become hoarse, or\\nwho are disposed to cough, should take\\npains to avoid rooms filled with smoke. Life\\nin the open air, particularly in the woods, is\\nan effective means to the preservation of\\nhealth and a powerful restorative in chronic\\ndiseases. The favorable influence of trav-\\neling and of life at sanitariums and health\\nresorts in many instances seems chiefly due\\nto the amount of time spent in the open air.\\nLiving in narrow and dark rooms, where\\nthe breathing space is small and fresh air is\\ndeficient, proves very injurious to health,\\nespecially when many persons are crowded\\ninto one room. By such a manner of living\\nthe constitution is sure to be undermined\\nsooner or later, and the individual to be-\\ncome a prey to incurable disease. The\\nremedy in such cases consists, not in medi-\\ncine, but in fresh air, exercise, and nutritious\\nfood. Children suffer most from want of\\nfresh air, whether in school or at home.\\nExercising the Lungs.\\nThose who follow sedentary occupations\\nshould seek the open air as often as possible,\\nbut should be careful about exposure to\\nheat, cold, wet, and dust. The effect of\\nbreathing fresh air is intensified by methodi-\\ncal exercise. Simple lung gymnastics con-\\nsist in a number of full respirations. To\\nventilate the lungs, so to speak, in this\\nmanner, the best time is from two to three\\nhours after a full meal, because then the ex-\\nhalation of carbonic acid gas is at its height.\\nSince sound lungs are only to be expected\\nin a normally developed chest, the latter\\nshould be protected from the various in-\\nfluences which tend to decrease its capacity.\\nSometimes a deformity is inaugurated during\\nthe first hours of life by the bad habit some\\nnurses have of bandaging an infant with\\nunreasonable tightness, a custom as earnestly\\nto be deprecated as that of tight lacing in\\nlater years. All other constrictions by\\nstrings or belts are quite as much to be\\navoided.\\nOne word here about the Corset. We\\ndo not wish to be considered its irreconcila-\\nble enemy it is its abuse only which must\\nbe condemned. A corset with very soft,\\nelastic stays is not only comfortable to the\\nwearer by supporting the bust and giving\\nstrength and stamina to the whole body, but\\nit has also the effect of improving the figure", "height": "3498", "width": "2486", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0492.jp2"}, "493": {"fulltext": "HEALTH-GTVIXG RECREATION.\\n457", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0493.jp2"}, "494": {"fulltext": "458\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nand rendering it agreeable to the beholder.\\nA tightly laced waist, however, is exceed-\\ningly unhealthy and far from beautiful.\\nThe practice of Gymnastics, or Calisthen-\\nics, as they are more commonly called\\namong us, not only tends to expand the\\nchest and lungs, but serves also to\\nstrengthen the heart, causing its muscular\\nelements to become strongly developed and\\nits contractions more forcible and regular.\\nIt must always be understood, however, that\\nexercise, as well as work, should not be in-\\ndulged in to excess.\\nExertion and Rest.\\nOnly moderate, well-regulated exercise in\\npure air, or bodily work executed under\\nsimilar conditions, is capable of strengthen-\\ning the heart and lungs, and, by improving\\nthe circulation, the tissues of the whole\\nbody. An important consideration in this\\nrespect is the maintenance of a proper\\nbalance between exertion and rest. If mus-\\ncular effort is continued too long, the effect\\non the muscles is the same as that of pro-\\nlonged rest they are weakened and finally\\nbecome unfit for any exertion.\\nThe skin does its share in the work of\\npurifying the blood by means of its gaseous\\nexhalations and of the perspiration. Its\\nother functions are numerous. It protects\\nthe sensitive nerve ends through whose\\nagency we experience the sensation of touch,\\nand it is the great regulator of animal heat.\\nStill another use is that of respiration\\nAubert has shown by experiment that the\\nskin gives off carbonic acid and absorbs\\noxygen.\\nFor these reasons it is important that it\\nshould be well cared for. The temperature\\nof the body is regulated by the evaporation\\nupon its surface the heat necessary for the\\nevaporation of the water in the capillaries of\\nthe skin is drawn from the general heat-\\nsupply of the body. The greater the amount\\nof evaporation, therefore, the greater is the\\nreduction of temperature, and vice versa.\\nThis regulation of bodily heat is assisted to\\na certain extent by the hair upon the skin,\\nand by the dress.\\nThe principal requirement for a normal\\naction of the skin is cleanliness. To this\\nend frequent Bathing and change of cloth-\\ning are indispensable. In cold weather,\\nhowever, it is not advisable to wash the\\nexposed portions of the skin, the face and\\nhands, too often, nor even to wash them in\\ncold water at all. Lukewarm water should\\nalways be made use of, together with a mild\\nsoap, the alternative being the chapping of\\nthe hands and face, and even the appearance\\nof salt rheum or eczema upon the skin.\\nWhen frequent washings cannot be avoided\\nin the winter time, the exposed portions\\nshould be rubbed with freshly prepared cold\\ncream, vaseline, or glycerine.\\nVapor Baths.\\nA vapor or hot air bath may be indulged\\nin now and then as a means of thorough,\\ncleansing but it should never be undertaken\\nby persons affected with lung or heart\\ndiseases, and therefore never without the\\nadvice of a physician.\\nThe Hair of the scalp and beard must be\\nproperly cared for. The use of some fatty\\nsubstance, preferably an animal, not a vege-\\ntable fat, is beneficial.\\nThe stronger the individual constitution,\\nthe thicker, as a general rule, will be the\\nhair, while in sickly persons and those\\nwhose blood is thin the hair is badly nour-\\nished and in poor condition. The fatty\\nmatter, which naturally exudes from the\\nskin and permeates the hair, causes it to\\nremain moist, soft, and pliable, while without", "height": "3481", "width": "2486", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0494.jp2"}, "495": {"fulltext": "GOOD HEALTH.\\n459\\nit all the water contained in the hair would\\nevaporate and leave the hairs dry and friable-\\nThe careful removal of dandruff, which owes\\nits origin mostly to dust and to the use of\\ncertain kinds of pomade, is absolutely neces-\\nsary to the growth of the hair and to its\\nproper lubrication by the fatty matters of the\\nskin.\\nThe condition of the scalp, therefore, is of\\nvery material importance to the growth of\\nthe hair. Washing the scalp with spirits is\\nunwise, since it causes great irritation a\\nmuch better plan is to use the yolk of an\\negg or diluted honey. Girls and women\\nshould never tie their hair too tightly, nor\\nshould men and boys wet theirs nor have it\\ncut too often.\\nDanger of Taking Cold.\\nOf all the vicissitudes our skin is called\\nupon to endure the most frequent and the\\nmost carefully to be guarded against is\\nExposure to Cold. An intense cold, a wind,\\nor a draft of air striking the skin while hot\\nand perspiring, causes not infrequently a\\nsudden contraction or dilation of the blood-\\nvessels in some particular organ, resulting in\\nwhat we call taking cold. A cold may\\nbe contracted, however, from agencies of\\nmuch slower operation, as, for instance, from\\nwearing too thin clothing, from throwing off\\nthe covers while sleeping during the night,\\nfrom sleeping next to a cold wall without\\nprotection from it, from living for a long\\ntime in cold and damp apartments, from\\nstanding in water while at work, or from a\\ndamp, cold atmosphere.\\nSheep s wool, if worn next the skin, pro-\\ntects directly from colds, as it imbibes the\\nperspiration quickly thus the skin remains\\ndry and the seat of evaporation is changed.\\nIt is especially advisable for those who per-\\nspire freely to wear woolen underclothing\\nduring hot weather. The best preventive\\nagainst taking cold is the plan of keeping the\\nfeet, the back, and the abdomen constantly\\nwarm, without, however, raising too much\\nthe temperature of other regions.\\nChmate should influence the manner of\\nliving and of dress. Our feelings as to tem-\\nperature in different climates depend largely\\nupon habit. When the inhabitants of tem-\\nperate climates are freezing, Esquimaux feel\\ncomfortable and when the former experi-\\nence comfort, those from a tropical country\\nare apt to feel cold.\\nRight Kind of Clothing.\\nThe difference between black clothing and-\\nwhite is well known. Black absorbs heat\\nrapidly, while white does so to only a very\\nslight degree. The former color is therefore\\nbest adapted to cold seasons and climates,,\\nthe latter to a heated atmosphere. Black\\ngoods also possess the property of absorbing\\nwith facility the vapors which contain infec-\\ntious germs, and for this reason dark woolen:\\ndresses are inadmissible for nurses.\\nEvery article of wearing apparel should be\\nmade sufficiently large to admit of the free\\npassage of air between the clothing and the\\nskin. Evaporation and consequent coolness\\nof the skin are thereby promoted. Clothing;\\nof ample proportions is therefore to be\\nrecommended during the hot season, as welS\\nas to those who live in hot countries. But\\nloosely-cut clothing is also very agreeable m\\ncold weather on account of the disadvan-\\ntages of tightly-fitting articles, such, for\\ninstances, as gloves and shoes. A very\\nobjectionable and even dangerous habit is-\\nthat of wearing garments which compress\\nthe neck, the chest, or the region of the\\nstomach.\\nThe Head, being protected by hair, should\\nbe covered only lightly, and should be kept", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0495.jp2"}, "496": {"fulltext": "460\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\ncool. Only heat, cold and wet are to be\\nguarded against. The hat should be very-\\nlight, and should not fit the head too closply.\\nIt should not be kept longer than strictly\\nnecessary upon the head, and should be\\nprovided with due means of ventilation.\\nFailure to observe the above rules will often\\nlead to baldness. Hats of braided horse-\\nhair are the best for summer use, but pre-\\nferably a parasol should be used as a protec-\\ntion against the rays of the sun, and the hat\\nshould be carried in the hand.\\nThe Neck should be left uncovered from\\nchildhood up. Stiff, high cravats and collars\\nought not to be worn, but only such as are\\nlarge enough to admit the introduction of,\\nat least, three fingers. Paper collars are\\noften impregnated with zinc or lead, and\\nmay become dangerous to persons who per-\\nspire a great deal.\\nInjuries from Tight Dresses.\\nThe Chest should be clothed in garments\\nsufficiently loose to allow of full expansion.\\nTightly-fitting dresses and corsets in the case\\nof women and vests or coats tightly but-\\ntoned up to the neck are unhealthy in mas-\\nculine attire.\\nThe Corset is used in a most unreason-\\nable manner so frequently that the wish to\\nsee it discarded absolutely is a very preva-\\nlent one. This, however, is not to be ex-\\npected, and, if due attention be paid to the\\nrational construction and sensible wearing of\\nthe garment, is unnecessary. At all events\\nyoung girls should not be allowed to wear\\ncorsets before the age of puberty. For wo-\\nmen it should be so arranged that the region\\njust below the ribs may not be compressed\\nfor, around the pit of the stomach are\\ngrouped in the interior of the body the\\nmost important vital organs, the heart and\\nlungs above the diaphragm, and the liver,\\nstomach and spleen below it. The normal\\naction of these organs suffers, of course, by\\ncompression.\\nThe dire effects of tight lacing are very\\nevident in some cases the liver, and some-\\ntimes the spleen, show grooves caused by\\nthe pressure of the ribs and of the sharp\\nextremity of the breast bone. How could\\nsuch organs continue to act normally? It.\\nis impossible, and the purification of the\\nblood as well as the formation of the bile are\\nimpeded by the crippled condition of the\\norgans upon which they depend.\\nParalyzing the Muscles.\\nThe surgeon knows very well the weak-\\nening effect of corsets upon the muscles they\\ncompress. A leg just released from aplaster-\\nof-paris casing, which has held it far more\\nloosely than a corset, is, nevertheless, emaci-\\nated, and remains weak for a certain time.\\nStill more does the corset, instead of improv-\\ning the figure, utterly disfigure it by render-\\ning the muscles of the back and chest more\\nor less incapable of use. No one would\\nthink of putting a paralyzed arm into a\\nspHnt on the contrary, one would exercise\\nit, employ it, apply massage to it but a\\nweak back we swathe in bandages, instead\\nof bathing, rubbing and exercising it in\\nother words, we complete the paralyzing\\nprocess.\\nA second effect of wearing corsets is the\\nrestraint they impose upon the movements\\nof respiration. If we measure with a spiro-\\nmeter the quantity of air which can be in-\\nhaled and that which can be exhaled, we\\nfind that from twenty to thirty-four per cent,\\nless air is inhaled beneath a tightly-fitting\\ncorset than when the corset is loosely worn.\\nSuch a sequence must inevitably deplete the\\ncirculation and predispose to consumption.\\nThe more nearly a woman s waist is", "height": "3481", "width": "2491", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0496.jp2"}, "497": {"fulltext": "wr\\n461", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0497.jp2"}, "498": {"fulltext": "462\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nshaped like an hour-glass, the more certainly\\ndoes it show us that her sands of life are\\nrunning out.\\nThe Feet are frequently tortured by tight\\nshoes, whose pressure impairs their health-\\nfulness of function. Cotton stockings are\\npreferable except for those who suffer from\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0excessive sweating of the feet these should\\nwear woolen stockings constantly. Rubbers\\nand arctics are very useful in cold and wet\\nweather, but should always be removed\\nwhile in a warm room. Rubbers are not to\\nfoe recommended for constant wear, because\\nthey interfere with proper ventilation of the\\n^eet. Two pairs of shoes are desirable for\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0each individual, to be worn on alternate\\ndays, since a single night s exposure to the\\nair in usually insufficient to free these articles\\nfrom moisture.\\nSlaves to Dress.\\nAll articles of clothing should be changed\\n.as frequently as possible. Especially should\\nwet garments be replaced by dry ones as\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2soon as opportunity offers. Cases of arseni-\\ncal poisoning have occasionally been ob-\\nserved as a result of wearing goods in whose\\ncoloring matter arsenic is found. Green\\ncolors are most suspicious in this connection.\\nMany refined women complain that\\nequality of rights is denied them and that\\nthey are thereby kept in subjection to the\\nmale sex. The greater subjection however\\nwould seem to be that which they endure of\\ntheir own accord. A woman who wishes to\\nappear ladylike must pay dearly in a certain\\nspecies of slave-chains for the iron-clad,\\nsteel-plated corsets which prohibit free\\nmobility and suppress all feeling of personal\\nliberty, the painting of the face, the sleeves\\nwhich fit tightly like bands about the arms\\nand restrain motion at shoulder and elbow,\\nthe high-heeled shoes, all enemies of com-\\nfort and health by what other name shall\\nwe call these? And to what purpose such\\nendurance? Only to disfigure and degrade\\nthe finest piece of nature s handiwork,\\nlovely woman.\\nSensible men mvariably prefer the natural\\nappearance and simplicity of manner to those\\nartificial ones which so often only serve as a\\ncloak to the reality. The women of ancient\\nGreece were far wiser in this regard than\\nthose of the latter day they knew full well\\nthat health means beauty, and they acted\\nupon this knowledge.\\nBlind Devotees of Fashion.\\nIt seems to us full time for the refined\\nAmerican lady to emancipate herself from\\nfasionable humbuggery in dress and to send\\na real declaradon of independence from a\\nsenseless tyranny to those aristocratic dames\\nof Continental monarchies who at present\\ndictate fashion. By so doing, no doubt she\\nruns the risk of losing the sympathy of\\nweak-minded dudes, who are either aristocrats\\nthemselves, or who assume aristocratic airs\\nbut in this we can see no disadvantage, for\\nshe would gain thereby the respect of men\\nwho are genuine representatives of republi-\\ncan intellect, sense and character.\\nWe cannot too strongly deprecate the\\nlaying of too much stress upon the question\\nof dress and upon external appearance in\\ngeneral. It always shows lack of good\\ntaste, and it may in the end undermine the\\nmoral nature of the individual. Children\\nshould be brought up with this principle in\\nview. They should never be restrained by\\ndress from that full liberty of movement\\nwhich ensures perfection of physical develop-\\nment.\\nBut while we thus strongly object to the\\nfashionable attire of women, we must not be\\nunderstood to maintain that the dress of the", "height": "3481", "width": "2467", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0498.jp2"}, "499": {"fulltext": "GOOD HEALTH.\\n463\\nstronger sex is any more an ideal one. The\\nstyle of dress adopted by the ancient Greeks\\nand Romans was far more sensible and prac-\\ntical, especially in summer, as is that of the\\nMohammedan peoples of the Orient to-day,\\nadmitting as it does far greater liberty of\\nmovement. Among our own people the\\ncostume of the American mountaineer may\\nbe commended for comfort and convenience,\\nand its use advocated everywhere in summer,\\n-even in the large cities.\\nSensible Garments.\\nThe climate of America is a milder one\\nthan we or our ancestors have been accus-\\ntomed to in Europe. Loose-fitting clothing,\\ntherefore, is more appropriate here than\\nthere, and only when the winter season\\nbrings a return of arctic rigors should resort\\nbe had again to the bondage of high collars,\\ngloves, and silk hats. In any case we can\\nwell afford to do away with the short over-\\ncoat, which not only gives a ridiculous\\nappearance to the figure, but is totally inade-\\nquate to give needed protection to the abdo-\\nmen.\\nLight is an essential of life, not only by\\nits direct action upon the skin and by serv-\\ning as the medium of vision, but also in-\\ndirectly, because through, by, and in it\\nalone can the development of oxygen in the\\nvegetable organism take place. This process\\nresults in the exhalation of oxygen by the\\nleaves and other organs of the plant, while\\nthey inhale and decompose carbonic acid in\\norder to utilize the carbon for the nourish-\\nment of the organism.\\nMoleschott calls both flowers and fruits\\nchildren of the light, woven from sunny\\nair. They are condensed sunbeams, so to\\nspeak. With vegetable matter, in the form\\nof coal and wood, we heat our rooms and\\nby using vegetable substances as food we are\\nenabled to perform muscular work and exer-\\ncise. Thus, light is the indispensable\\nmedium of life, while plants, animals and\\nhuman beings, deprived of Ught, it has often\\nbeen illustrated, become pale and emaciated\\nand soon perish.\\nSunlight aids in maintaining the purity of\\nthe atmosphere by the part it takes in trans-\\nforming the chlorophyll of the green por-\\ntions of plants. By its influence the air is\\nfreed from carbonic acid, whose poison\\nwould, otherwise, collect in increasing quan-\\ntities, and which it replaces with invigorat-\\ning oxygen. So efficient a purifier of the\\natmosphere is sunlight that it assists the\\noxidation of the organic materials it contains\\nand so their removal.\\nThat Musty Smell.\\nFor instance, the musty smell which\\nstrikes one so disagreeably in living rooms\\nis stronger and more tenacious in northerly\\nrooms than in those Avhich face southward\\nand which are consequently exposed to the\\nsun. Finally, sunlight destroys certain\\nmicro-organisms in their very germs. The\\ninfluence exerted by lack of sunlight upon\\nthe development of disease has been esti-\\nmated from statistics collected among the\\nchildren reared in Rostock at the public ex-\\npense.\\nOf ninety-eight such children twelve were\\naffected with scrofula, that precursor of con-\\nsumption, of whom four lived in cellars and\\nfive in dark attics, where the sun could not\\npenetrate. And in Italy, the classical abode\\nof that disease, the origin of malaria may\\nfrequently be traced to the same cause.\\nThe air of a well-lighted room is better\\nthan that of a dark one. Thus the Italian\\nsa\\\\-ing, Where the sun does not enter the\\ndoctor does, may be regarded as tolerably\\ncorrect. Sunlight gives courage and hope", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0499.jp2"}, "500": {"fulltext": "464\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nand makes us glad, free and happy. If the\\nsky is overcast, if fog and darkness reign\\nsupreme, then beware of melanchoHa, of\\nhypochondria, of despondency bordering\\nupon suicidal mania.\\nToo much sunlight, however, like every\\nother excess, works harm. The weary trav-\\neler, wending his way through the southern\\nSahara, treads upon sar.d in which an egg is\\nhardened within a few minutes. No wonder\\nhis feet are soon covered with blisters no\\nwonder the exposed portions of his skin are\\nsoon scorched and blistered too by the merci-\\nless rays of the fiery orb.\\nThe Nervous System.\\nThe danger from exposure to heat in our\\nclimate is of a somewhat different kind. In\\nour large cities we are affected, not only by\\nthe direct rays of the sun, but also by the\\nheat that is reflected from the sun-scorched\\nwalls of buildings and from the stones of\\npavements and sidewalks. In open country\\nthe conditions are decidedly better.. The\\nair is purer, and the lawns and meadows and\\nwoods absorb much of the heat, so that\\nradiation is much diminished. It is in ac-\\ncordance with this suggestion from nature\\nthat we try to protect ourselves against too\\nstrong light by using shades for our eyes\\nto reflect the rays of heat and light. For\\na similar reason also it is that we wear light\\nclothes in summer.\\nThe nervous system requires food that is\\nrich in albuminous and fatty matter. Phos-\\nphorous is absolutely indispensable, since\\nnervous tissues contain a large amount of it,\\npartly in albuminous compounds, and partly\\nin alkaline phosphates. Milk, eggs and\\nmeat are therefore the best foods for nourish-\\ning and strengthening the nervous system,\\ntogether with sufficient quantities of fat and\\ncarbo-hydrates.\\nThe circulation of blood through the\\norgans of nervous action must be properly\\nregulated. This may be achieved by suit-\\nable exercise and deep inspirations. Light,\\nwarmth, and pure air, the air of the forest in\\nparticular, tend to improve the health of\\nthese organs.\\nAny organ in the human body, if put to\\nbut little use, gradually diminishes, it is found,,\\nin force and energy, continued inactivity\\nleading to a complete withering of its sub-\\nstance. In like manner a brain kept in\\na state of inactivity loses by degrees its\\npower of perception and judgment. This is\\nbest illustrated in certain instances where\\nchildren have grown up among animals,\\nwithout any intercourse with human beings.\\nSuch children have been found incapable of\\nspeech, unable to tell right from wrong, and\\nexhibiting no trace of reason their feats of\\nbodily skill and activity however are supe-\\nrior to those of which most animals are\\ncapable.\\nHow the Brain is Nourished.\\nOur brains are best nourished and strength-\\nened by work, just as our muscles become\\nharder and firmer by constant use. The\\nbrains of men Avho have done considerable\\nmental work during life show some peculiari-\\nties which illustrate this principle the sub-\\nstance of the brain is of unusually hard\\nconsistency, and the gray matter is remark-\\nably developed. It seems more than prob-\\nable that the continually increasing size of\\nthe human skull, especially of its anterior\\nportion, is due solely to the progress of\\ncivilization. The human race, at least, is\\nconstantly perfecting its intellectual resources\\nand capabiUties. This because of the com-\\nbined influences of heredity and education\\nwhich are constantly at work, moulding and\\nshaping men and their intellects, their brain", "height": "3481", "width": "2460", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0500.jp2"}, "501": {"fulltext": "GATHERING THE FRUITS OF AUTUMN.\\n465", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0501.jp2"}, "502": {"fulltext": "466\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nand their skulls. The use of any part of\\nthe body has its effect upon the part used.\\nThe selection of brain work requires a\\ngreat deal of care. Beginning with easy\\nand gradually progressing to harder tasks\\nwill never occasion dangerous after effects,\\nsuch as we frequently observe in children.\\nTheir brains are normally much softer and\\ncontain a larger amount of liquid contents\\nthan those of adults, and they should there-\\nfore be very carefully dealt with.\\nStill worse is the experiment so often tried\\nin our schools of forcing sickly, anaemic\\nchildren to the same rate of progress with\\nthose who are healthy. For the former,\\ninasmuch as their brain-substance is poorly\\nnourished, are far too slow to satisfy their\\ninstructors, and in some instances are\\nentirely unfit for mental effort. This sort\\nof forcible intellectual training, of which\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2many parents and many teachers are guilty,\\nis the more harmful to a growing brain, the\\nless satisfactory are the external conditions\\nsurrounding the child, such as improper\\nfeeding, poor living, and insufficient rest.\\nUnnatural Excitements.\\nNothing is so hurtful to a brain as dispro-\\nportion between work and rest. Mental\\nvigor is always impaired by over-exertion\\nat hard and long-continued labor, by irrita-\\ntion from frequent and unnaturally violent\\nnervous impressions, by want of sleep, or by\\nsevere intellectual effort.\\nAmong the causes of unnatural excite-\\nment alcohoHc liquors play an important\\npart. At first they seem to enliven and\\nstimulate the brain to greater activity, but\\nsoon the weakening and depressing effects\\nmanifest themselves.\\nSleep is absolutely indispensable to main-\\ntaining the normal composition of the brain\\nsubstance and thereby to the proper supply\\nof bra n force. The more work the brain\\nhas accomplished, the more sleep is neces-\\nsary for recuperation. Sleep will refresh\\nand invigorate the brain, as well as the ner-\\nvous and muscular systems, only when it\\nlasts sufficiently long, and when it is unin-\\nterrupted, sound, and quiet. To fulfil these\\nconditions must therefore be our aim. Atten-\\ntion must consequently be paid, not only to\\nthe frequency, the regularity, and the length\\nof the period in sleep, but also to the sur-\\nroundings during sleep.\\nSleeping Apartments.\\nThe Bedroom should be spacious, moder-\\nately warm and quiet, and its air should be\\nkept dry and pure. It should face toward\\nthe south, and should be as far removed as\\npossible from all damp, mouldy, and ill-\\nsmeUing localities. If one person sleeps\\nalone in a large room whose window he does\\nnot wish to keep open over night, he should\\nat all events thoroughly ventilate the apart-\\nment for sortie length of time before retiring.\\nBut when several persons sleep in the same\\nroom the air can only be kept pure by con-\\nstant ventilation. Leaving the windows\\nopen all day long, but closing them at night,\\ndoes not afford sufficient change of air. In\\na badly ventilated bedroom one is extremely\\nliable to inhale the floating germs of disease\\nand other noxious particles during sleep.\\nFor this reason perhaps, infectious diseases\\noccur much more frequently in winter, when\\nventilation is not so thorough as in warmer\\nseasons, most persons being unreasonably\\nafraid on account of the cold. Good venti-\\nlation however tends rather to establish cur-\\nrents of air, which remove these germs\\ncompletely, or at least in large part; and\\neven, should some enter the body, the latter\\nwill be in better condition to resist their\\naction on account of its increased supply of", "height": "3481", "width": "2491", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0502.jp2"}, "503": {"fulltext": "GOOD HEALTH.\\n467\\nWith body erect and\\nhands at sides, move With hands on the hips,\\nthe head to right and move the upper part of the\\nleft, and forward and body to right and left, and\\nbackward strength- forward and backward this\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0ens the muscles of the strengthens the muscles of\\nneck. the chest and back.\\nYou should always be careful not to overstrain\\nany of your muscles. Here lies one of the dangers\\nof exercise. The exercise itself is good and in every\\nway advantageous, but you are constantly on the\\nborder line of excess. And muscles injured by\\nstraining may be a long time in recovering. Never\\nattempt to take exercise when your muscles feel sore\\nand unequal to the task. It should not be difficult\\nfor you to get limbered up if it is, your muscles\\nhave been overworked.\\nClose the hands, extend the arms in front as shown\\nby the dotted lines, and bring the hands together\\nbehind the back repeat at least twenty times.\\nStand erect, with arms straight at the sides raise\\nand lower the arms as shown in. the figure repeat at\\nleast twenty times.\\nYour arms are a considerable part of yourself and\\na very important part. And, like other portions of\\nthe body, they are capable of being strengthened\\nand made more efficient than they ever would be\\nwithout proper exercise. You should practice gym-\\nnastics until the muscles are hard and strong, yet it\\nis not the amount of muscle that should be con-\\nsidered, but its quality.\\nHold the right arm out horizontally, palm of hand\\niipward double the left arm, the tips of the fingers\\nresting on the shoulder then stretch out the left\\narm, at the same time bringing the right arm to the\\nposition shown by the dotted lines repeat, and then\\nmake the movements with both arms simultaneously.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0503.jp2"}, "504": {"fulltext": "468\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\noxygen. Perhaps also the germs are ren-\\ndered harmless in a mechanical -way by good\\nventilation while in impure and damp air,\\nwhere respiration is not so well sustained,\\ngerms which have already been inhaled are\\nless likely to continue floating in the inspired\\nair and to be exhaled with it before effecting\\na lodgment.\\nHealthy individuals can surely sleep with\\nopen windows, when in some English and\\nGerman hospitals the sick are compelled to\\ndo so to their great benefit, the only precau-\\ntion taken being to avoid a draft directly\\nupon the person. In various German insti-\\ntutions for the treatment of consumptives it\\nis an inflexible rule that patients are not\\nallowed indoors not only do they he upon\\ncots in the open air all day, but at night they\\nare removed into open tents this treatment\\nbeing attended by the most gratifying results.\\nToo Much Ventilation.\\nIn regions, however, where intermittent or\\nyellow fever prevails, and where various\\nforms of malaria are indigenous, ventilation\\nmust be very carefully regulated, the win-\\ndows being opened only during the day, for\\nat night the poisonous exhalations from the\\nground are most active, especially if rain\\nhas fallen shortly before. And indeed,\\nunder all circumstances it is safer, when\\nwindows are left open, to sleep in a room as\\nfar as possible from the ground. These rules\\nbecome less imperative after a long drouth\\nand during continuous rain or cold northerly\\nwinds.\\nIn winter time in our climate the stove is\\na bad neighbor so far as the supply of fresh\\nair is concerned, for it needs a great deal of\\noxygen, twenty-four times as much as a\\nman, and this it robs from its human room-\\nmates, only to return them an occasional\\nwhiff of smoke mingled with treacherous\\ngases. But ventilation will overcome all\\nthis, if sleeping in a cold room is not con-\\nsidered desirable. When the windows are\\nopen, enough oxygen will be supplied to the\\nsleepers as well as to the stove.\\nAll lights should be extinguished befo.e\\nretiring, as their presence is irritating, not\\nonly to the eye, but also to the brain. The\\nworst of all lights to sleep by is a gas light,\\nunless turned quite low, for a strong gas jet\\nconsumes twelve times as much oxygen ax\\na man, and for this reason it should at all\\ntimes be avoided where ventilation is not\\ngood.\\nWarm Covering at Night.\\nA few other points may be referred to in\\nconnection with sleep. The covers should\\nbe drawn up over the stomach in order to\\nkeep it warm. For full-blooded persons the\\npillow should be moderately high, so th.t\\nthe head is raised above the level of tl:c\\nbody. In the case of one with impoverished\\nblood, however, it is generally better to\\nsleep with the head lower, and even en a\\nlevel with the body. Lying upon the Lac!;\\nis to be avoided, since it may cause irritalicn\\nof the spine and consequent nervous excite-\\nments. When constipation exists, phy: i-\\nshould be taken at such a time that its efiect\\nwill not disturb the night s rest. Other\\nnatural desires should be heeded at once,\\nbecause quiet sleep is impossible i:nle?:s this\\nbe done.\\nAnother rule indispensable to good he;-Lii\\nis, never to sleep upon a feather bed. Owing\\nto the non-conductive properties of feathers,\\nthe gases of the body, so detrimental to the\\nhuman system, accumulate within the so. t\\nmass. Moreover these beds are the genera;\\nreservoirs of the various exhalations fron:\\ndifferent bodies which ha\\\\c lain upon thc;v.\\nHence husk, palm-ler.f cr hair mattress-. s", "height": "3481", "width": "2471", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0504.jp2"}, "505": {"fulltext": "GOOD HEALTH.\\n469\\nHolding the arms straight, swing them with a\\nrotary motion, thrusting them forward as they are\\ntlevated and backward as they are lowered, bringing\\nthem to the sides, and then repeat.\\nGive full swing to yonr arms. Do not get into a\\ncramped position. Let all your movements be free.\\nExpand the chest by full breathing and keep the\\nbody erect. Let the clothing be loose and wear little\\nduring your exercise.\\nLift the hands from the sides to the shoulders, then\\nraise the arms at full length above the head, and also\\nextend them horizontally as shown in the dotted\\nlines.\\nStanding erect, with\\nthe hands on the hips,\\nlower the body as\\nshown in the figure,\\nand rise repeat at\\nleast fifteen times, but\\nnot too fast.\\nPlacing the hands on the\\nhips, right leg forward and\\nleft leg slightly bent, bring\\nthe body into the position\\nof the dotted lines then\\nplacing the left leg forward,\\nrepeat movements.\\nBe careful not to strain the muscles of the back or\\nlower limbs while going through these exercises.\\nBe deliberate and go slowly. Nothing can be gained\\nby haste.\\nWith the body bent\\nforward, closed hands be-\\ntween the knees, raise\\nthe body and elevate the\\nhands above the head,\\ntaking care to keep the\\narms straight repeat\\nPlace the hands on the\\nfront side of the hips,\\nbend the body forward,\\nand then rise to an erect\\nposition at the same\\ntime throwing the head\\nbackward repeat.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0505.jp2"}, "506": {"fulltext": "470\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nshould be adopted in their place. These\\ncan easily be obtained.\\nA proper alternation between exercise and\\nrest is a prime necessity for a healthy condi-\\ntion of the muscular system. Muscular\\nfatigue is caused by the accumulation in the\\nmuscles of waste products, which are formed\\nmore rapidly by exertion than they can be\\ncarried away in the blood-stream. But there\\nis still another source of fatigue. The\\noxygen necessary to the proper performance\\nof muscular work is present in the muscle\\nbeforehand, and its store cannot be replen-\\nished during exercise. When therefore the\\namount of oxygen present is exhausted,\\nfatigue begins. A fatigued muscle is phys-\\nically and chemically different from what it\\nwas before its task was commenced. Rest\\nalone can restore it to its former condition.\\nHow to Rest the Brain.\\nBy the constantly alternating pressure\\nwhich a contracting muscle exerts on the\\nblood and lymph vessels in its neighborhood\\nthe circulation of these liquids is accelerated,\\nthe current in the veins, which return the\\nblood from the general system to the heart,\\nbeing particularly influenced.\\nIt is well known that when attention is con-\\ncentrated upon certain nerves and muscles,\\nthe muscular exertion relieves the tension of\\nthe brain and thus the fact is explained that\\nhard bodily work and continued muscular\\nexercise free the mind temporarily of many\\nof its cares. The elimination of waste ma-\\nterial takes place chiefly during rest, and\\nmostly through the kidneys in the form of\\nurea, as we have already seen. At this time\\nthe flow of blood to the muscles increases,\\nnew material is furnished them in abundance,\\nand new muscle and nerve substance is\\nformed in store for future demand.\\nMuscular exercise is of paramount im-\\nportance, for every movement and almost\\nevery activity of the body is due to muscu-\\nlar exertion. The same agency farthermore\\ngenerates manual dexterity and force,\\nstrengthens the will, quiets the brain, helps\\ndevelop the bones of the frame, and assists\\ngreatly those important physiological pro-\\ncesses, circulation and purification of the\\nblood, the movements cf respiration and\\ndigestion.\\nViolent Exercise,\\nBy overexertion much harm may be\\ndone, weakness induced amounting almost\\nto palsy, enormous development cf the mus-\\ncular system effected at the expense of other\\norgans, particularly the brain, which. then\\nbecomes very slow and dull, anaemia devel-\\noped in consequence of overtaxing cf the\\nblood, enlargement of the heart brou2;ht\\nabout with palpitation, and dilatation of the\\nlungs with asthma.\\nDisfigurements and deformities of various\\nkinds are likely to result, when certain parts,\\nonly of the muscular system are used. Fre-\\nquent and rational use of a muscle, followed\\nby sufficient I est, will make it plump, hard\\nand strong, while continuous inactivity\\nrenders it flabby, thin, and at last fatty.\\nSubjoined are certain Rules to be ob-\\nserved during Exercise. All tight clothing,,\\nespecially about the neck and chest, must be\\nremoved. The various sets of muscles\\nshould be trained, and, therefore, the move-\\nments must involve all the joints, alternat-\\ning systematically. The muscles of respira-\\ntion and those of the abdomen should be-\\nparticularly remembered. The various,\\ntroubles of the digestive organs are thus\\nfavorably influenced, and affections of the\\nheart and lungs successfully combated, inas-\\nmuch as a narrow chest may be broadened\\nby rendering the contractions of the respira-", "height": "3481", "width": "2483", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0506.jp2"}, "507": {"fulltext": "GOOD HEALTH.\\n471\\nSteady yourself with one hand on a chair place\\nthe other hand on the hip and swing the leg as\\nshown in the figure repeat, and then swing the\\nother leg in like manner.\\nThe lower limbs always get good exercise from\\nwalking, but there are various motions which they\\nobtain only by a proper system of gymnastics. Bear\\nin mind that the lower limbs are constantly brought\\ninto use, and the more perfect they are in form and\\nefficiency the better it is for the whole body. You\\nshould exercise the leg muscles regularly, as thereby\\nthey become stronger and better able to perform\\ntheir work. Weak lower limbs give a young man\\nthe appearance of a tottering old man whose vitality\\nhas long since had its day.\\nSteady yourself with one hand on a chair, place\\nthe other hand on the hip, and swing the leg forward\\nand backward repeat, and then swing the other leg\\nin like manner.\\nStretch the body forward, placing the hands on a\\nchair then straighten the arms and raise the bo(l\\\\-.\\nThis must not be repeated so many times as to render\\nthe muscles sore and stiff.\\nThis figure shows the position of the body after it\\nis raised from the chair according to directions ac-\\ncompanying preceding figure do not make t^ie\\nmovements rapidly, as this will produce exhaustion.\\nWith arms bent, hold the wan ,1 behind the back\\nas shown by the figure this throws the chest f.T-\\nward then bend and straighten the legs alternate y.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0507.jp2"}, "508": {"fulltext": "472\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\ntory muscles more efficient. A narrow chest\\nis ominous of lung disease.\\nExtreme fatigue should never be induced.\\nAs soon as there is an appreciable feeling of\\nfatigue, exercise should be suspended. Al-\\nthough the number of working hours in\\nEurope exceeds that customary in the\\nUnited States, the amount of work per-\\nformed here is greater and produces more\\nfatigue. Rest should continue until all feel-\\ning of fatigue is gone.\\nThe intensity and duration of the move-\\nments practiced must be increased very grad-\\nually, if increase of muscular strength is\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0desired. Nutrition must be proportioned to\\nthe activity of the body, otherwise the\\nsystem will succumb. Poor diet will always\\ntell at last, because income and expenditure\\n-are not equalized.\\nTake in a Full Breath.\\nPure air and full breathing are required\\nduring and after exercise the latter not\\nonly promotes change of air in the lungs,\\nbut also quickens the functions of circula-\\ntion and digestion. As soon as rapid re-\\nspiration and palpitation set in exercise\\nshould cease also when headache, dizzi-\\nness and other disagreeable sensations are\\npresent, when the face becomes pale and\\npinched or flushes suddenly, or when a feel-\\ning of great heat or excessive prespiration\\nsets in. People who suffer from heart or\\nlung diseases must be particularly cautious\\nas to exercise.\\nEating must be avoided shortly before or\\nshortly after any considerable exertion, as\\ndigestion is thereby impaired. Exposure to\\ncold on such an occasion is especially in-\\njurious to the heart. When not in a posi-\\ntion to practice muscular exercise, massage\\nof the muscles should take its place.\\nIf the above rules are followed closely.\\nthe salutary effects of exercise will be speed-\\nily experienced. Affections of the brain and\\nnervous organism of a functional nature,\\nsuch as hysteria, hypochondriasis, melan-\\ncholia, sleeplessness, and despondency, will\\nsoon disappear. Disturbances of the circu-\\nlation will be improved or wholly cured,\\nsince the heart and blood-vessels are enabled\\nto contract more forcibly. The blood will\\nbecome healthier, because the waste material\\nis carried off more efficiently.\\nOutdoor Sports.\\nPersons suffering from gout, rheumatism,\\nor obesity will feel as though created anew,\\nand anaemic and chlorotic girls will regain\\ntheir color and lose the curvatures and\\ndeformities of the spine which are due to\\nmuscular weakness.\\nHealthy exercise is best obtained through\\nsuch sports as rowing, skating, swimming,\\nfencing, tennis-playing, bicycling, and horse-\\nback riding. Dancing in itself is a healthy\\nexercise, but it is almost invariably overdone,\\nand the surrounding conditions are decidedly\\nunfavorable no rest is taken between the\\ndances; it is indulged in at night after the\\nproper bed-time, in tightly fitting dresses,\\nand in hot, dusty, poorly ventilated halls,\\ncrowded with people then also it lasts too\\nlong, and too much drinking is habitually\\nindulged in at balls, parties, and similar\\nassemblages.\\nDancing on platforms erected in the open\\nair in shady places, preferably in the woods,\\nis far less objectionable. The action of cold\\nupon the skin and lungs is much to be\\ndreaded, and sudden changes of air when\\ndancing must be carefully guarded against.\\nGymnastics and mountain-chmbing are\\nupon the whole the best methods of exer-\\ncise, provided the rules we have given are\\nacted upon. The air in large cities is far", "height": "3481", "width": "2484", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0508.jp2"}, "509": {"fulltext": "GOOD HEALTH.\\n473\\nThis is an exercise to strengthen the muscles of\\nthe wrists aud arms, and consists in holding the\\ndumb bells out and bending the wrists each way as\\nfar as possible.\\nDumb bells furnish excellent exercise, but they\\nshould not be too heavy, nor should they be used\\nvery long at any one time. When j-our muscles\\nbegin to feel tired lay down the dumb bells at once.\\nExercise is of little use to you after it becomes\\nwearisome. You should always enjoy it and it\\nshould exhilarate every part of j ou.\\nWith arms extended side-\\nwise, palms downward,\\nHold the bells high lower the bells to the sides\\nabove the head, then and raise them repeat,\\nlower and elevate the then strike the bells _to-\\narms at least a dozen gether m front and behind\\ntimes. the back.\\nThis figure shows the rotary motion with dumb\\nbells. Bend the body forward, resting the weight on\\none foot, then on the other, swinging the bells low\\nas you change from one foot to the other.\\nThe necessity of physical education for girls is\\nnow generally recognized. We do not need any\\nlabored argument on this point. Healthful exercise\\nis conducive to health, and health is what the Ameri-\\ncan woman needs. The exercises here recommended\\nare the best and can easily be practiced by all.\\nA girl s gymnastic dress should be loose through-\\nout and gathered at the waist. Stand erect with\\nhands on the hips and light weight on the head\\nthen rise on the toes and fall.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0509.jp2"}, "510": {"fulltext": "474\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nfrom possessing the purity desirable to prac-\\ntice athletic exercises in, and it ij better on\\nthis account to establish the gymnasium in\\nthe upper part of the house.\\nCalisthenics are coming more and more\\ninto use every day for ladies and girls,\\nalthough much still remains to be done\\ntoward their perfection. This is a branch of\\neducation which deserves wider attention\\nnot only that it is much more healthy than\\nmany semi-superfluous theoretical studies\\nbut it actually tends to improve the com-\\nplexion and beautify the face and figure.\\nBenefits of Mountain-Climbing.\\nNothing should be regarded as of greater\\nimportance than healthy exercise, and there\\nis no exercise preferable to mountain-climb-\\ning. Here a variety of favorable conditions\\nobtain, healthy ground, pure air, a healthful\\nmode of exercise promotive of vigorous res-\\npiration and digestion, and the profound\\nenjoyment and equanimity which accompany\\nthe constantly changing aspects of beautiful\\nand majestic landscapes. In mountain-\\nclimbing accordingly, to the directly bene-\\nficial effect upon the health of the individual\\nwe find added the peculiar gratification\\nenjoyed by every lover of nature.\\nThe strengthening and invigorating effect\\nof exercise, and especially of mountain-\\nclimbing, is warmly to be commended. For\\nthe latter, by the relief it gives from the\\ncares of business, combined with residence\\nin a healthful locality, active respiration of\\npure air, and the drinking of pure water,\\nexerts not only a transitory beneficial effect,\\nbut even, in most cases, leads to permanent\\ncure of disease or tends to prevent its occur-\\nrence.\\nThe best inhalation apparatus, baths, and\\nmedicaments are of but temporary value, if\\nno compensation is made for the loss of\\nvitality and of muscular tone, especially that\\nof the heart and blood-vessels if the blood-\\nstasis in the glands and other organs does\\nnot yield to an increased flow of blood in\\narteries and veins if the thinned blood does\\nnot become thicker and more rich in albu-\\nmen if the accumulating carbonic acid is\\nnot expelled by a more plentiful supply of\\noxygen if the fat deposited in the body is\\nnot more rapidly oxidized and if the kid-\\nneys are not made to act more efficiently.\\nBut all these effects are produced more\\ncertainly and more promptly by mountain-\\nclimbing than in any other way. After\\nseveral weeks spent in mountain excursions,\\nthe condition of the patient is radically\\nchanged for the better. There is an elastic-\\nity of the mental processes in place of the\\nformer dullness; will, thought, and impulse\\nseem to move on wings the formerly dull\\nsenses are sharpened the formerly half-\\nclosed eyes sparkle, and the flabby cheeks\\nbecome full and rosy the once prominent\\nabdomen is reduced to more seemly dimen-\\nsions, notwithstanding that food and drink\\nare taken with greater relish while the\\nchest is expanded.\\nNew Life and Vigor.\\nThese changes, it is true, are not without\\ntheir inconveniences to the patient as regards\\nhis apparel, for his unmentionables are\\nfound to have become much too large\\naround the waist, while his coat, collar and\\nshirt have grown too small. He who was\\nbefore so heavy and dull now feels as elastic\\nand sprightly as if the burden of earthly\\nexistence had been lifted from his shoulders,\\nand, almost as in his childhood days, goes-\\nrunning and springing along, covering a dis-\\ntance of ten or twelve miles a day. He has\\nno longer the shape of a discontented and\\nsurly creature, a parody on mankind, but", "height": "3497", "width": "2494", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0510.jp2"}, "511": {"fulltext": "GOOD HEALTH.\\n475\\nGrasp the wand, about three feet in length, with\\nboth hands, then raise the wand as high as the head,\\nand lower to the above position repeat twenty times.\\nThere can be no perfection of womanhood without\\nthe development of her physical nature. To a very\\ngreat extent, the mind is dependent upon the body.\\nIn order to think, to study, to perform household\\nduties, to appear well in society and make the best\\nof yourself, you must have sound and robust health.\\nA thin, pale, puny, half-lifeless woman is a dis-\\ncredit to her sex. She is poorly fitted for the high-\\nest duties and activities of life. She is unattractive,\\nand lacks that sprightliness of mind and bloom of\\ncountenance which are among her chief charms.\\nA course of physical training would rejuvenate her.\\nHold the wand as in the figure, one arm at the\\nside, then rotate the wand over the head, bringing\\nthe other arm to the side repeat twenty times.\\nHold the wand and one arm horizontally, with\\nother arm bent, then bend the straight arm and\\nstraighten the bent loosen the fingers and clasp the\\nwand again with each movement.\\nThese exercises will not come easy to you at first.\\nYou may think you are very awkward and afford\\namusement to those who are looking on. It will,\\nhowever, take only a very short time for you to\\naccustom yourself to calistUenics, and if you do not\\nenjoy them thoroughly you will be different from\\nthe vast majority of ladies. Here, as elsewhere,\\npractice makes perfect. Yoa should patiently con-\\ntinue in wel]-doin!7.\\nHolding the wand high above the head, lower it\\nto the breast, then elevate it, then swing it over the\\nhead backward, changing the hands so as to retain\\nthe hold.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0511.jp2"}, "512": {"fulltext": "476\\nTHE CARDINAL VIRTUES.\\nfits better in the ranks among other strong\\nand happy beings he is possessed of a new\\nspirit, his pulse beats more strongly, and the\\ntone of his entire circulatory system is\\nbetter.\\nThe value of such exercise in the cure of\\nvarious diseases is more and more recog-\\nnized every day. Systematic exercise of this\\nnature is now practiced at several institutions\\nin Germany having large tracts of moun-\\ntainous land about them laid out with\\ngraded walks for the cure of heart troubles,\\nof obesity, and even of consumption.\\nThese are intended, of course, for those\\nwho are allowed a certain amount of exer-\\ncise only. For others, suffering from vari-\\nous forms of chronic disease, such as rheu-\\nmatism, gout, dyspepsia, ansemia and other\\ncirculatory disturbances, mountain excur-\\nsions are organized under the supervision of\\na physician, the walking and climbing being\\nsystematically undertaken, and the progress\\nand effect of the exercise carefully watched.\\nBut if you cannot reach a mountain to\\nclimb it, you should not neglect the very\\nhealthful exercise of walking on level ground.\\nwhich is one of the best means of strength-\\nening and preserving health.\\nIn Greece, those who practiced running\\nwere incredibly swift, while of the old Teu-\\ntons it is reported that they were able to\\njump over five or six horses standing abreast.\\nThere are people who can swim many miles\\nat a stretch. The cowboys on our western\\nplains, the Csikos in Hungary, the Gauchos\\nin the Argentine RepubHc, and the Cossacks\\nin Russia excel in horseback exercise. Con-\\ntortionists, snakemen, india-rubber men and\\nkickers are able to turn and twist their bod-\\nies and limbs in an almost inconceivable\\nmanner, the result of long and hard practice.\\nAgain, there are laborers in Bulgaria,\\nAlbania and Armenia who can carry as\\nmuch as four hundred or five hundred\\npounds up the mountains. The Roman\\nEmperor Maximinian was so strong that\\nhe could successfully oppose the strength\\nof two horses in drawing a load. There\\nare mountaineers, who on level ground\\ncould not beat a champion runner, but who\\non a mountain ascent would without effort\\nleave the same adversary far behind.\\nHold the wand on the shoulders as seen in the\\nfigure then straighten the right arm, at the same\\ntime drawing in and bending the left repeat.\\nPlacing the wand on the shoulders as seen in the\\niigure, bring the arms to the position shown in the\\ndotted lines repeat a number of times.", "height": "3481", "width": "2494", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0512.jp2"}, "513": {"fulltext": "GOOD HEALTH.\\n477\\nHold the wand behind the back as seen in the\\nfigure, then bring the arms to the position shown by\\nthe dotted lines repeat and alternate.\\nDo not be discouraged if you seem to make slow\\nprogress in physical culture. You pursue such\\nstudies as the common school branches, ancient and\\nmodern languages, music, drawing, painting, etc.,\\nfor years why, in hke manner, should you not\\nspend years in the cultivation of bodily health and\\nthe development of all your physical powers? From\\nday to day you can see no marked improvement,\\nbut think of the change there will be a year or two\\nyears from now.\\nPlace the feet close together, hold the body ercci,\\nclasp the wand with both hands and swing it to right\\nand left, keeping the arms straight.\\nBe careful to undertake only such exercises as are\\nsuited to your health and physical condition. You\\nare not aiming to become masculine, or do what\\nonly men are expected to do. Think not for a\\nmoment that there is anything unwomanly in those\\nsports, pleasures and physical exercises, that will\\nstrengthen every part of the body and give fresh\\ntone and vigor to the whole system. Be persistent,\\nenthusiastic and regular in your practice.\\nHold the wand as shown in From the above figure the reader will form a good idea of the general\\nthe figure, the right arm ele- movements in the use of Indian clubs. He can vary the movements so as\\nch?st- tlien^b swi n^in^faSe to give exercise to all the muscles of the arms, shoulders, chest, and abdo-\\ntheleftarm and bring the right men. Clubs weighing two pounds apiece are heavy enough for ordinary\\nacross the chest repeat- exercise.", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0513.jp2"}, "514": {"fulltext": "478\\nOVERCOMING DIFFICULTIES.", "height": "3474", "width": "2384", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0514.jp2"}, "515": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0515.jp2"}, "516": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3474", "width": "2384", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0516.jp2"}, "517": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3428", "width": "2366", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0517.jp2"}, "518": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3529", "width": "2620", "jp2-path": "charactersketche00nort_0518.jp2"}}