Chapter 18

Two men were once standing by a building on which a little boy had climbed who was afraid to get down. Looking up at him, one man opened his arms and, with a kind voice, said: “Jump, my little fellow, and I will catch you.” But the boy shrank back and would not jump. Then the other man opened his arms and said: “Come, my boy, jump, and I will catch you.” Instantly the little face cleared, a smile chased away the tears, and with a rush he jumped and was safely caught in the outstretched arms. Why was the boy afraid of one man and willing to trust the other? Because the first man was a stranger and the second man was his father. He knew his father would not let him fall.

(525)

A story is told by Colonel William Conant Church, of theArmy and Navy Journal, which illustrates how unshaken was the President’s confidence in Grant’s ability to march the army of the Potomac against the army of northern Virginia and capture the stronghold of the rebellion. The incident took place just before Grant established his headquarters in the field.

When he called upon the Secretary of War, the latter said:

“Well, General, I suppose you have left us enough men to garrison the forts strongly?”“No, I can’t do that,” was the General’s quiet reply.“Why not? Why not?” repeated the nervous Secretary.“Because I have already sent the men to the front, where they are needed more than in Washington.”“That won’t do,” said Stanton. “It’s contrary to my plans. I will order the men back.”Grant maintained a quiet determination, and replied:“I shall need the men there, and you can not order them back.”“Why not? Why not?” cried the Secretary.“I believe I rank the Secretary of War in this matter,” remarked Grant.“Very well, we will see the President,” sharply responded the Secretary.“That’s right; he ranks us both.”Going to the President, Secretary Stanton, turning to Grant, said:“General, state your case.”But the General calmly replied:“I have no case to state. I am satisfied as it is.”When Stanton had given his view of the matter, Lincoln crossed his legs, leaned back in his chair, and like the wise philosopher that he was, said:“Now, Mr. Secretary, you know we have been trying to manage this army for nearly three years, and you know we haven’t done much with it. We sent over the mountains and brought Mr. Grant, as Mrs. Grant calls him, to manage it for us, and now I guess we’d better let Mr. Grant have his own way.”The winter of 1863 was a trying time for General Grant. It was a winter of floods in the South, and a winter of discontent among the people of the North. He could not move his army, and many began the old cry after Donelson, “idle, incompetent, and unfit to command in an emergency,” and again arose a clamor for his removal. It was a season of false alarm and sensational rumors.But there were two men in the land from whence came words of cheer. One was listening quietly in a store in Cincinnati to a great deal of rambling and grumbling talk about the way General Grant was trying to take Vicksburg. When all others present had given vent to their feelings, this man said in a moderate tone: “I think he’ll take it. Yes, I know he’ll take it. ’Lis’ always did what he set out to do. ’Lis’ is my boy, and he won’t fail.”The other man who believed in General Grant was in the White House. He was too good to be unkind, and too wise and prudent to err. While men of large political influence were urging General Grant’s removal for the good of the country, the philosopher at the White House said: “I rather like the man; I think we’ll try him a little longer.” By these thirteen words the fate of Vicksburg was sealed.—Col.Nicholas Smith, “Grant, the Man of Mystery.”

“Well, General, I suppose you have left us enough men to garrison the forts strongly?”

“No, I can’t do that,” was the General’s quiet reply.

“Why not? Why not?” repeated the nervous Secretary.

“Because I have already sent the men to the front, where they are needed more than in Washington.”

“That won’t do,” said Stanton. “It’s contrary to my plans. I will order the men back.”

Grant maintained a quiet determination, and replied:

“I shall need the men there, and you can not order them back.”

“Why not? Why not?” cried the Secretary.

“I believe I rank the Secretary of War in this matter,” remarked Grant.

“Very well, we will see the President,” sharply responded the Secretary.

“That’s right; he ranks us both.”

Going to the President, Secretary Stanton, turning to Grant, said:

“General, state your case.”

But the General calmly replied:

“I have no case to state. I am satisfied as it is.”

When Stanton had given his view of the matter, Lincoln crossed his legs, leaned back in his chair, and like the wise philosopher that he was, said:

“Now, Mr. Secretary, you know we have been trying to manage this army for nearly three years, and you know we haven’t done much with it. We sent over the mountains and brought Mr. Grant, as Mrs. Grant calls him, to manage it for us, and now I guess we’d better let Mr. Grant have his own way.”

The winter of 1863 was a trying time for General Grant. It was a winter of floods in the South, and a winter of discontent among the people of the North. He could not move his army, and many began the old cry after Donelson, “idle, incompetent, and unfit to command in an emergency,” and again arose a clamor for his removal. It was a season of false alarm and sensational rumors.

But there were two men in the land from whence came words of cheer. One was listening quietly in a store in Cincinnati to a great deal of rambling and grumbling talk about the way General Grant was trying to take Vicksburg. When all others present had given vent to their feelings, this man said in a moderate tone: “I think he’ll take it. Yes, I know he’ll take it. ’Lis’ always did what he set out to do. ’Lis’ is my boy, and he won’t fail.”

The other man who believed in General Grant was in the White House. He was too good to be unkind, and too wise and prudent to err. While men of large political influence were urging General Grant’s removal for the good of the country, the philosopher at the White House said: “I rather like the man; I think we’ll try him a little longer.” By these thirteen words the fate of Vicksburg was sealed.—Col.Nicholas Smith, “Grant, the Man of Mystery.”

(526)

When Alexander once was about to engage in battle with Darius, having completed his arrangements, he lay down to sleep. Next morning Tarmenio exprest surprize that he could sleep so soundly when such vast issues were impending. “You seem as calm,” said he, “as if you had had the battle and gained the victory.” “I have done so,” replied Alexander, “for I consider the whole work done when we have gained access to Darius and his forces, and find him ready to give us battle.” (Text.)

(527)

SeeEssentials;Versatility.

Confidence in His Own Ability—SeeVersatility.

CONFIDENCE IN MEN

If a man can invest his hundreds of thousands of dollars on the ocean or in distant countries, where men can not understand the documents we write, it shows that there is trust between man and man, buyers and sellers; and if there is trust between them it is because experience has created the probabilities of truthfulness in the actions of men and all the concordant circumstances. If men did not believe in the truth of men, they never would send to China, Japan or Mexico their great properties and interests, with no other guarantee than that the men are trustworthy. The shipmaster must be trustworthy, the officers of the government must be trustworthy, and that business goes on and increases the world over is a silent testimony that, bad as men do lie, they do not lie bad enough to separate man from man.—Henry Ward Beecher.

(528)

CONFIDENCE, INSPIRING

In his reminiscences concerning his career, Mr. John D. Rockefeller says this in regard to a critical epoch in his fortunes:

I went to a bank president whom I knew, and who knew me. I remember perfectly how anxious I was to get that loan and to establish myself favorably with the banker. This gentleman was T. P. Handy, a sweet and gentle old man, well known as a highgrade, beautiful character. For fifty years he was interested in young men. He knew me as a boy in the Cleveland schools. I gave him all the particulars of our business, tellinghim frankly about our affairs—what we wanted to use the money for, etc., etc. I waited for the verdict with almost trembling eagerness.“How much do you want?” he said.“Two thousand dollars.”“All right, Mr. Rockefeller, you can have it,” he replied. “Just give me your own warehouse receipts; they’re good enough for me.”As I left that bank, my elation can hardly be imagined. I held up my head—think of it, a bank had trusted me for $2,000! I felt that I was now a man of importance in the community.

“How much do you want?” he said.

“Two thousand dollars.”

“All right, Mr. Rockefeller, you can have it,” he replied. “Just give me your own warehouse receipts; they’re good enough for me.”

As I left that bank, my elation can hardly be imagined. I held up my head—think of it, a bank had trusted me for $2,000! I felt that I was now a man of importance in the community.

The confidence of the bank president in him and his business ventures had strengthened his own appreciation and confidence. So each man reacts on the other. (Text.)

(529)

CONFIDENCE, LACK OF

Admiral Dupont was once explaining to Farragut the reason why he failed to enter Charlestown harbor with his fleet of iron-clads. He gave this reason and that reason and the other reason; and Farragut remained silent until he had got through, and then said, “Ah, Dupont, there was one more reason.” “What is that?” “You didn’t believe you could do it.”

(530)

CONFLICT, SPIRITUAL

Upon the side of the great entrance-hall of the Royal Museum in Berlin is painted a colossal picture of Kaulbach’s. It represents the last battle between the Romans and the Huns, which decided the fate of European civilization. The spirits of the slain, fierce and restless as before, rise from their bodies and continue the battle in the air. In the shadowy combat the forces are led by Attila, “the scourge of God,” borne aloft upon a shield, and by Theodoric, the Roman chief, with sword in hand and the cross behind.

The vivid portraiture is a symbol of the battle waging, not so much between brute forces as between the spirit of two opposing civilizations for the mastery of the world.

(531)

Conflict to Fellowship—SeeEternal, The, at Hand.

Conflicts of Nature—SeeStrong and Weak.

CONFORMITY

Paul’s method of being all things to all men suggests that a wise and proper conformity to one’s surroundings, where it involves no sacrifice of principle, may be as useful as the white hue of animals in arctic regions described in this extract:

Wherever all the world around is remarkably uniform in color and appearance, all the animals, birds, and insects alike necessarily disguise themselves in its prevailing tint to escape observation. It does not matter in the least whether they are predatory or defenseless, the hunters or the hunted; if they are to escape destruction or starvation, as the case may be, they must assume the hue of all the rest of nature about them. In the arctic snows, for example, all animals, without exception, must needs be snow-white. The polar bear, if he were brown or black, would immediately be observed among the unvaried ice-fields by his expected prey, and could never get a chance of approaching his quarry unperceived at close quarters. On the other hand, the arctic hare must equally be drest in a snow-white coat, or the arctic fox would too readily discover him and pounce down upon him off-hand; while conversely, the fox himself, if red or brown, could never creep upon the unwary hare without previous detection, which would defeat his purpose. For this reason, the ptarmigan and the willow-grouse become as white in winter as the vast snow-fields under which they burrow; the ermine changes his dusky summer coat for the expensive wintry suit beloved of British Themis; the snow-bunting acquires his milk-white plumage; and even the weasel assimilates himself more or less in hue to the unvarying garb of arctic nature. To be out of the fashion is there quite literally to be out of the world; no half measures will suit the stern decree of polar biology; strict compliance with the law of winter change is absolutely necessary to success in the struggle for existence. (Text.)—Cornhill Magazine.

(532)

Congenital Neurasthenics—SeeInebriety, Incurable.

Conjugal Rights—SeeRobbing Justified.

CONNECTION

You can get no water from your old pump. When you try you get only a painful wheezing.Pumps are not living things, but they, too, suffer exhaustion. Must you give it up, and dig a new well? Oh, no. The well is all right, and has given abundant and sweet water for a generation. You look it over, and find that the old leather valve is dry and worn out. Pour in a pitcher of water to wet it, and the wheezing is cured. Put in a new valve and the old pump is good for years to come. God’s supply of living water is abundant as ever. It is only your connection with it that failed.—Franklin Noble, “Sermons in Illustration.”

(533)

CONQUEST BY MAN

These vehement elements, of air and water, demand to be wrestled with and patiently mastered, by the vigorous soul, in order that they may administer to our happiness. There is the wax. In the soul is the seal, designed to impress it. There are the materials, upon which and with which the spirit is to operate. But no implements, even, are given it for its use. It must forge them, as it wants them. They are not found ready fashioned to the hand, as ornamental stones are, in the caverns and rock-rifts. They must be conceived by our skill, and completed by our labor. But the moment we begin, all is ready for our progress.—Richard S. Storrs.

(534)

CONQUEST, COMMONPLACE

Even the conquest of the North Pole takes on an aspect of the commonplace, especially after many years of hard work. The New YorkTimesquotes this entry from Peary’s journal:

The pole at last! The prize of three centuries, my dream and goal for twenty years, mine at last! I can not bring myself to realize it.It all seems so simple and commonplace. As Bartlett said when turning back, when speaking of his being in these exclusive regions which no mortal had ever penetrated before:“It is just like every day!”

The pole at last! The prize of three centuries, my dream and goal for twenty years, mine at last! I can not bring myself to realize it.

It all seems so simple and commonplace. As Bartlett said when turning back, when speaking of his being in these exclusive regions which no mortal had ever penetrated before:

“It is just like every day!”

(535)

Conquest, Peaceful—SeeEmigration, Conquest by.

CONQUEST, SEVERE

Death Valley is the most barren part of the Great American Desert. More men have died in its arid wastes than on any other equal area of the world’s surface, barring the great battle-fields. It lies, a great sink in the sandy plain, about 250 miles north and east of Los Angeles, Cal., and within the boundaries of that State. The valley received its sinister name owing to the fact that in the early fifties a party of emigrants, some hundred and twenty in number, traveling overland by wagon from Salt Lake City, Utah, to Los Angeles, perished in its awful solitudes, barely a man escaping.In theWide World Magazineis given the story of a man who, alone and unaided, conquered Death Valley in the hottest month of the desert year. The tale of awful suffering endured by this man, H. W. Manton, of Rhyolite, Cal., is told for the first time in his own words.For almost a week Manton was lost in the heart of Death Valley. In three days he tramped eighty miles over sands so hot that he could scarcely walk on them, tho shod with heavy shoes. During those never-ending days he had no food, and but one drink of water.When he staggered up to Cub Lee’s Furnace Creek ranch, more dead than alive, his tongue was swollen to such a size that his mouth could no longer contain it. His lips and eyelids were cracked open; his clothing was in tatters, and his shoes were coated with a heavy incrustation of borax and other alkalines, which had eaten great holes in the leather.At first he could not drink, and the touch of water was as fire to his parched lips and tongue. Kind-hearted ranchmen and miners forced the precious fluid into his mouth with a straw, with a spoon—any way to get him revived. And eventually he spoke, telling the strange story of his crossing the dread pit; of how he had wandered therein for many days, with no companions save the lizards and the snakes of the barren sands.—BostonTranscript.

In theWide World Magazineis given the story of a man who, alone and unaided, conquered Death Valley in the hottest month of the desert year. The tale of awful suffering endured by this man, H. W. Manton, of Rhyolite, Cal., is told for the first time in his own words.

For almost a week Manton was lost in the heart of Death Valley. In three days he tramped eighty miles over sands so hot that he could scarcely walk on them, tho shod with heavy shoes. During those never-ending days he had no food, and but one drink of water.

When he staggered up to Cub Lee’s Furnace Creek ranch, more dead than alive, his tongue was swollen to such a size that his mouth could no longer contain it. His lips and eyelids were cracked open; his clothing was in tatters, and his shoes were coated with a heavy incrustation of borax and other alkalines, which had eaten great holes in the leather.

At first he could not drink, and the touch of water was as fire to his parched lips and tongue. Kind-hearted ranchmen and miners forced the precious fluid into his mouth with a straw, with a spoon—any way to get him revived. And eventually he spoke, telling the strange story of his crossing the dread pit; of how he had wandered therein for many days, with no companions save the lizards and the snakes of the barren sands.—BostonTranscript.

(536)

CONSCIENCE

There is an ingenious instrument used in testing the condition of railroads whereby every slight deviation in the width or levelness of the track, every defect of the rails, and even the quality of the steel and manufacture are registered.

Is not a well-instructed and carefully cultivated conscience just such a dynograph?

(537)

“Conscience makes cowards of us all.” The following rather amusing incidentwell illustrates this hackneyed observation of Shakespeare:

On one of Landseer’s early visits to Scotland the great painter stopt at a village and took a great deal of notice of the dogs, jotting down rapidly sketches of them on a piece of paper. Next day, on resuming his journey, he was horrified to find dogs suspended from trees in all directions or drowning in the rivers, with stones around their necks. He stopt a weeping urchin, who was hurrying off with a pet pup in his arms, and learned to his dismay that he was supposed to be an excise officer who was taking notes of all the dogs he saw in order to prosecute the owners for unpaid taxes. (Text.)

(538)

The religious ferment of the age made a tremendous impression on Bunyan’s sensitive imagination. He went to church occasionally, only to find himself wrapt in terrors and in torments by some fiery itinerant preacher; and he would rush violently away from church to forget his fears by joining in Sunday sports on the village green. As night came on the sports were forgotten, but the terrors returned, multiplied like the evil spirits of the parable. Visions of hell and the demons swarmed in his brain. He would groan aloud in his remorse, and even years afterward he bemoans the sins of his early life. When we look for them fearfully, expecting some shocking crimes and misdemeanors, we find that they consisted of playing ball on Sunday and swearing. The latter sin, sad to say, was begun by listening to his father cursing some obstinate kettle which refused to be tinkered, and it was perfected in the Parliamentary army. One day his terrible swearing scared a woman, “a very loose and ungodly wretch,” as he tells us, who reprimanded him for his profanity. The reproach of the poor woman went straight home, like the voice of a prophet. All his profanity left him; he hung down his head with shame. “I wished with all my heart,” he says, “that I might be a little child again, that my father might learn me to speak without this wicked way of swearing.” With characteristic vehemence Bunyan hurls himself upon a promise of Scripture, and instantly the reformation begins to work in his soul. He casts out the habit, root and branch, and finds to his astonishment that he can speak more freely and vigorously than before. Nothing is more characteristic of the man than this sudden seizing upon the text, which he had doubtless heard many times before, and being suddenly raised up or cast down by its influence.—William J. Long, “English Literature.”

(539)

SeeEye, The Searching;Missionary Accomplishments.

CONSCIENCE A LIGHT

The woodsman carries a box of safety matches protected against the rain and snow. In the arctic zone he knows that if he loses the match and the light he has lost life itself. Man can lose his health but not his conscience. But, if stumbling, the torch has fallen, and the light flamed low, snatch it up, and relight it, at the altars of God. So shall the light in thee wax into greater light, until conscience is a true pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night, guiding thee into the summer land where man needs no light of the lamp, neither light of the sun.—N. D. Hillis.

(540)

CONSCIENCE A MONITOR

I remember when a boy my mother had a beautiful vase. I was charged not to touch it. My fingers, however, boy-like, itched to touch it. I frequently went around it, and peered behind it. I wondered if there might not be some painting on the bottom of it, as there was on the sides. In lifting ii up, one day, when I had grown bolder, it fell to the hearthstone and broke into a thousand pieces. I knew I had wounded the mother heart in that moment. She heard the crash and came in. I knew that I deserved punishment. But she only said, “My dear boy; do you see what you have done.” It was burned into my memory then what it cost to disobey law, and in all the sixty years that have elapsed since then, when I have looked upon the treasures of others, I have heard her voice saying to me, “Do you see what you have done?”—BishopD. A. Goodsell.

(541)

CONSCIENCE A MORAL MENTOR

A writer speaks of a special form of the barometer, used generally by travelers, in which air supplies the place of mercury as a measuring medium. Speaking of its use, he says:

As the pressure of the outside air varies does it rise and fall, and by a beautifully delicate apparatus this rising and falling is magnified and represented upon the dial. Such barometers are made small enough to be carried in the pocket, and are very useful for measuring the heights of mountains; but they are not quite so accurate as the mercurial barometer, and are therefore not used for rigidly scientific measurements; but for all ordinary purposes they are accurate enough, provided they are occasionally compared with a standard mercurial barometer, and adjusted by means of the watch-key axis provided for that purpose, and seen on the back of the instrument. They are sufficiently delicate to tell the traveler in a railway whether he is ascending or descending an incline, and will indicate the difference of height between the upper and lower rooms of a three-story house. The unseen air in the aneroid is a mark of the rise or fall in altitude of the possessor of the instrument.

Conscience plays a like part in morals. It is always with us and always admonishes us of the varying moral altitudes to which we rise or fall.

(542)

CONSCIENCE BENUMBED

One of the most astonishing things in prison life is said to be the deficiency of conscience in criminals. Scenes of heartrending despair are rarely witnessed among them. Their sleep is broken by no uneasy dreams; on the contrary, it is easy and sound: they have also excellent appetites. They have a sense of self-righteousness, and feel, on the whole, that they have been wronged. Recently the newspapers told us of the execution of a grave-digger upon the Continent, who had been convicted of four murders, five robberies, eight cases of incendiarism, and other crimes. When he was informed that he would be hanged early next morning, he said that he deserved his fate, but he assured his judge that worse fellows than he were running about the world.

To have no consciousness of sin, no proper consciousness of it, is no proof of our integrity; much more likely is it a proof that our conscience has become benumbed and indurated by years of worldliness and disobedience. (Text.)—W. L. Watkinson, “The Transfigured Sackcloth.”

(543)

CONSCIENCE, CHRISTIAN

The following is told of Mr. Frank Crossley, a great promoter and founder of London missionary work:

Mr. Crossley was conscience incarnate. While yet a poor apprentice he had got free admission to a theater through the connivance of a fellow workman who kept the door; but when, as a renewed man, conscience demanded reparation for this sort of robbery, he reckoned up the entrance fee he had evaded, and sent the theater company sixty pounds.—Pierson, “The Miracles of Missions.”

(544)

CONSCIENCE, TROUBLED

A quiet, bashful sort of a young fellow was making a call on a Capitol Hill girl one evening not so very long ago, when her father came into the parlor with his watch in his hand. It was about 9:30 o’clock. At the moment the young man was standing on a chair straightening a picture over the piano. The girl had asked him to fix it. As he turned, the old gentleman, a gruff, stout fellow, said:“Young man, do you know what time it is?”The bashful youth got off the chair nervously. “Yes, sir,” he replied. “I was just going.”He went into the hall without any delay and took his hat and coat. The girl’s father followed him. As the caller reached for the doorknob, the old gentleman again asked him if he knew what time it was.“Yes, sir,” was the youth’s reply. “Good-night!” And he left without waiting to put his coat on.After the door had closed the old gentleman turned to the girl.“What’s the matter with that fellow?” he asked. “My watch ran down this afternoon and I wanted him to tell me the time, so that I could set it.”—DenverPost.

“Young man, do you know what time it is?”

The bashful youth got off the chair nervously. “Yes, sir,” he replied. “I was just going.”

He went into the hall without any delay and took his hat and coat. The girl’s father followed him. As the caller reached for the doorknob, the old gentleman again asked him if he knew what time it was.

“Yes, sir,” was the youth’s reply. “Good-night!” And he left without waiting to put his coat on.

After the door had closed the old gentleman turned to the girl.

“What’s the matter with that fellow?” he asked. “My watch ran down this afternoon and I wanted him to tell me the time, so that I could set it.”—DenverPost.

(545)

CONSCIOUSNESS

Is there any difference between the vibrations of sound on the tympanum of the ear and those on the surface of the water? Science does not seem to see a great difference, but Ruskin finds, in the differing effects, an illustration of the mystery of consciousness:

It is quite true that the tympanum of the ear vibrates under sound, and that the surface of the water in a ditch vibrates, too; but the ditch hears nothing for all that; and my hearing is still to me as blest a mystery as ever, and the interval between the ditch and me, quite as great. If the trembling sound in my ears was once of the marriage-bell which begun my happiness, and is now of the passing bell which ends it, the difference between those two sounds to me can not be counted by the number of concussions. There have been some curious speculations lately as to the conveyance of mental consciousness by “brain-waves.” What does it matter how it is conveyed? The consciousness itself is not a wave. It may be accompanied here or there by any quantity of quivers and shakes, up or down, of anything you can find in the universe that is shakeable—what is that to me? My friend is dead, and my—according to modern views—vibratory sorrow is not one whit less, or less mysterious, to me, than my old quiet one.

(546)

CONSECRATION

A Chinese preacher, whose wages were twenty-two dollars a month, refused the offer of the post of consul at fifty dollars, that he might be free to preach the gospel to his countrymen. His countrymen said of him: “There is no difference between him and the Book.” (Text.)

(547)

CONSEQUENCES

Mr. Justice Burroughs, of the Common Pleas, used to resort to the use of proverbs and parables in dealing with the juries. One day atnisi prius, much talk was made about a consequential issue in the case. He began to explain it to the jury thus: “Gentlemen of the jury, you have been told that the first is a consequential issue. Now, perhaps, you do not know what a consequential issue means; but I dare say you understand nine-pins. Well, then, if you deliver your bowl so as to strike the front pin in a particular direction, down go the rest. Just so it is with these counts. Knock down the first, and all the rest will go to the ground; that’s what we call a consequential issue. (Text.)—Croake James, “Curiosities of Law and Lawyers.”

(548)

CONSEQUENCES, IRREPARABLE

The doctrine of the following verse (unidentified) is quite doubtful. Is it not the hope of Christianity that men now broken by sin will yet, by God’s healing grace, soar even higher than ever?

I walked through the woodland meadows,Where sweet the thrushes sing;And I found on a bed of mossesA bird with a broken wing.I healed its wound, and each morningIt sang its old sweet strain,But the bird with a broken pinionNever soared as high again.I found a young life brokenBy sin’s seductive art;And touched with a Christlike pityI took him to my heart.He lived with a noble purpose,And struggled not in vain;But the life that sin had strickenNever soared as high again.But the bird with a broken pinionKept another from the snare;And the life that sin had strickenRaised another from despair.Each loss has its compensation,There is healing for every pain;But the bird with a broken pinionNever soars as high again. (Text.)

I walked through the woodland meadows,

Where sweet the thrushes sing;

And I found on a bed of mosses

A bird with a broken wing.

I healed its wound, and each morning

It sang its old sweet strain,

But the bird with a broken pinion

Never soared as high again.

I found a young life brokenBy sin’s seductive art;And touched with a Christlike pityI took him to my heart.He lived with a noble purpose,And struggled not in vain;But the life that sin had strickenNever soared as high again.

I found a young life broken

By sin’s seductive art;

And touched with a Christlike pity

I took him to my heart.

He lived with a noble purpose,

And struggled not in vain;

But the life that sin had stricken

Never soared as high again.

But the bird with a broken pinionKept another from the snare;And the life that sin had strickenRaised another from despair.Each loss has its compensation,There is healing for every pain;But the bird with a broken pinionNever soars as high again. (Text.)

But the bird with a broken pinion

Kept another from the snare;

And the life that sin had stricken

Raised another from despair.

Each loss has its compensation,

There is healing for every pain;

But the bird with a broken pinion

Never soars as high again. (Text.)

(549)

CONSEQUENCES, UNNOTICED

A little girl in Kansas has recently given the telegraph companies a vast amount of trouble in a peculiar way. Her daily duty was to herd a large drove of cattle on a range through which passed the telegraph lines. For weeks, some hours nearly every day, these lines absolutely failed to work, and the trouble seemed to be in the vicinity of where this girl herded her father’s cattle; but it was a long time before they discovered the cause. Finally, they found out that in order to get a better view of the herd the girl had driven railroad-spikes into a telegraph-pole, and whenever she got weary watching the cattle from the ground she would climb the pole and seat herself on a board across the wires and watch her herd from that lofty station. Whenever the board happened to be damp it destroyed the electric current and cut off all telegraphic communication between Denver and Kansas City. (Text.)—Louis Albert Banks.

(550)

CONSERVATION

Under the iron law of conflict in the “survival of the fittest,” the world finds a shipwreckedbrother in its path and removes him without ceremony and covers him with scorn and contempt. Christ reverses this iron law.Formerly when a war vessel discovered a derelict, the latter was immediately destroyed by dynamite. The government has now entered upon a new policy. Whenever it is possible, the abandoned vessel is towed into the nearest port. Recently two abandoned schooners were brought in, the value of the vessels and their cargo being estimated at more than sixty thousand dollars.When Jesus finds a human derelict He does not destroy him. He cleanses him and rehabilitates him, and makes him valuable in the kingdom. (Text.)

Formerly when a war vessel discovered a derelict, the latter was immediately destroyed by dynamite. The government has now entered upon a new policy. Whenever it is possible, the abandoned vessel is towed into the nearest port. Recently two abandoned schooners were brought in, the value of the vessels and their cargo being estimated at more than sixty thousand dollars.

When Jesus finds a human derelict He does not destroy him. He cleanses him and rehabilitates him, and makes him valuable in the kingdom. (Text.)

(551)

Christian treatment of the Indian not only has improved his character, but has saved him from threatened extinction.

The idea is prevalent that the red man is doomed to disappear from the earth at no distant day. But the census tables give no such indication. The first official count was taken about seventy years ago, and gave the number as 253,461. In 1880 the figures had risen to 256,127, in 1900 to 272,073, and now (1909), by actual count, the reservations are found to contain 284,000.

(552)

A bundle of wood is placed in our kitchen stove to kindle the fire. It is consumed. Its ashes represent what the tree took from the soil. Its carbon goes up the chimney, restoring to the air what some tree took from the air. Nothing was lost. The earth received again what it originally gave. To the air was restored its original contribution of carbonic acid gas, which the leaf manufactured into wood. And so God has made a universe of perennial youth, where nothing is lost nor can be lost.—E. M. McGuffey.

(553)

CONSERVATION OF INFLUENCE

Dr. F. F. Shannon, commenting on the early death of a talented man, says:

“Such a man dead at 40?” you ask. “Why, to what purpose is this waste?” Well, a man can make a match, but it takes God to make a sun. We know the match must go out, the sun never does, tho his shining face is often hidden from our eye. And so the sun of this man’s genius—of any man’s genius—can never go out. The flame is burning yet—in a few hearts still in the flesh, and in countless glorified spirits before the throne. There is not enough wind, loosed or unloosed, in the vast caverns of the universe to blow out that flame, nor enough blackness in the untenanted halls of space to swallow up its light! Do you tell me that the God who is so strict in the economy of His universe as to refuse a throb of energy to be lost, or an atom to be wiped out of existence, or a few pieces of bread to perish in the desert, will allow that genius, which is the breath of His own being, to be wasted without contributing wealth to the world, to the universe, to God Himself!

(554)

CONSERVATION OF REMAINDERS

A man was in possession of a great farm. The abundant crops finally failed, and other calamities came, and at last the wife of the great landowner lost her reason. Nearly all had been lost, and the farmer was left with only a few feet of ground as his possession. I had not the courage to visit this man in his destitution. After a lapse of time, however, I went to his humble abode, and was amazed to see the little garden in the highest state of cultivation. And I exclaimed: “Why, how is this? How did you have the heart to do this, after you had lost all?”“Why, what would you have had me do?” was the reply. “This is all I had, and I tried to make the best of it.”

“Why, what would you have had me do?” was the reply. “This is all I had, and I tried to make the best of it.”

So it is for us to strengthen that which is left in the Church and in ourselves as individuals.—Olin A. Curtis.

(555)

CONSERVATISM, FALSE

There stands the false conservative, anchored to the past. Whatever is, for him, is right and good. He is constitutionally opposed to change. Wagon-wheels make a rut an inch deep across the prairie, but when this man is thirty he is in a rut up to his eyebrows. When he dies, at seventy, you can truly say, that his image is truth lying at the bottom of a well. He loves his father’s house because it is old; he loves old tools; old laws; old creeds. He stands at his gate, like an angry soldier, waving his hands and shouting warnings to all who approach. He has one injunction for every boy starting out to make his fortune: “Watch your anchor, my son; don’t cast off your moorings”; as if any Columbus, who spent all his time throwing out anchors, could ever have crossed the sea! As if any world voyagecould be made by a captain who never dared cast off his moorings! In the Arabian tale, when the sheik was lost in the desert, he took off the bridle, and committed the camel to God and his own instincts, trusting the beast to find its way to the water springs. But if the old sheik had been a false conservative, he would first of all have staked the camel down by a lariat, and then committed himself to God, like these church dignitaries and councils that stake the religious or political thinker down by a lariat, which they then label in a humorous moment, “liberty of thought,” and having made progress impossible, they commit themselves to the care of the God of progress.—N. D. Hillis.

(556)

Conservatism Natural—SeeProgress.

CONSIDERATENESS

This incident is from a source not identified:

A few days ago I was passing through a pretty, shady street, where some boys were playing at baseball. Among their number was a little lame fellow, seemingly about twelve years old—a pale, sickly-looking child, supported on two crutches, who evidently found much difficulty in walking, even with such assistance.The lame boy wished to join the game, for he did not seem to see how his infirmity would be in his own way, and how much it would hinder the progress of such an active sport as baseball.His companions, very good naturedly, tried to persuade him to stand at one side and let another take his place; and I was glad to notice that none of them hinted that he would be in the way, but that they all objected for fear he would hurt himself.“Why, Jimmy,” said one of them at last, “you can’t run, you know.”“Oh, hush!” said another—the tallest in the party; “never mind, I’ll run for him,” and he took his place by Jimmy’s side, prepared to act. “If you were like him,” he said, aside to the other boy, “you wouldn’t want to be told of it all the time.”As I passed on I thought to myself, “That boy is a true gentleman.”

The lame boy wished to join the game, for he did not seem to see how his infirmity would be in his own way, and how much it would hinder the progress of such an active sport as baseball.

His companions, very good naturedly, tried to persuade him to stand at one side and let another take his place; and I was glad to notice that none of them hinted that he would be in the way, but that they all objected for fear he would hurt himself.

“Why, Jimmy,” said one of them at last, “you can’t run, you know.”

“Oh, hush!” said another—the tallest in the party; “never mind, I’ll run for him,” and he took his place by Jimmy’s side, prepared to act. “If you were like him,” he said, aside to the other boy, “you wouldn’t want to be told of it all the time.”

As I passed on I thought to myself, “That boy is a true gentleman.”

(557)

SeeKindness;Service, Interested.

Consideration for Others—SeeOthers, Consideration for.

Consideration for Weakness—SeeWeakness, Consideration for.

CONSISTENCY

Those who walk with God are sure to exercise a powerful effect, conscious or unconscious, upon their worldly friends and neighbors. It is said of certain of the apostles that those who watched them “took knowledge of them, that they had been with Jesus.”

A certain mill-owner was an infidel. He ran his mill seven days in the week, yet on Sundays he stopt it for a short time in the morning and again at noon. At length some one ventured to ask him why he acted thus. His reply was, “It is because I know that Deacon B. will pass at a certain time on his way to church, and again on his way back. I do not mind the rest of you, for you do not properly live what you profess, but I tell you I do mind him, and to run my mill while he is passing would make me feel bad here”—putting his hand upon his heart.Theosophy in its mystic theories includes the concept that the spirit within each individual forms a visible aura or halo around him, which can be seen by many who possess the faculty of discernment. The spirit of a true Christian is apprehended by those about him far more accurately than might be imagined. For the spirit inevitably impels the actions of the life.

Theosophy in its mystic theories includes the concept that the spirit within each individual forms a visible aura or halo around him, which can be seen by many who possess the faculty of discernment. The spirit of a true Christian is apprehended by those about him far more accurately than might be imagined. For the spirit inevitably impels the actions of the life.

(558)

CONSTITUTION IN OBSCURITY

A schoolboy in Brooklyn was asked: “What is the Constitution of the United States?” He replied: “It is that part in small print in the back of the book that nobody reads.”

(559)

Constraint—SeeAcquiescence to Providence.

Consumption—SeeTuberculosis.

Consumption and Vocal Exercises—SeeSinging Conducive to Health.

CONTACT

If one’s heart be charged with sympathy, he will convey it by his handshaking, as if he carried with him this ingenious toy:

An “electric handshaker” to shock unsuspecting friends, has been devised by a man in Paterson, N. J. The specification of the patent that he has secured reads, according toThe Western Electrician: “It is intended that the cell or battery and coil be concealedin the inside breast pocket or other convenient hiding-place on the person intending to operate the toy. The two wires are to be run down the sleeve of the operator and the ring slipt on one of his fingers, the two contact buttons being turned toward the palm of the hand. If now, the circuit through the induction-coil and battery being closed, the operator shakes hands or otherwise brings the two buttons on the ring into contact with another person, this person receives a most surprizing and effective electric shock. Owing to the small size and the ingenious method of concealing the apparatus, the recipient of the shock does not at once discover the source of the discharge, and the toy is productive of much amusement.” (Text.)

(560)

SeeSympathy.

Contact with the Blind—SeeBlindness and Contact.

Contagion—SeePost-mortem Consequences.

Contagion of Evil—SeeEvil, Virulency of.

CONTAMINATION

Back to Index Next