Chapter 36

Ask a great money-maker what he wants to do with his money—he never knows. He doesn’t make it to do anything with it. He gets it only that he may get it. “What will you make of what you have got?” you ask. “Well, I’ll get more,” he says. Just as, at cricket, you get more runs. There’s no use in the runs, but to get more of them than other people is the game. And there’s no use in the money, but to have more of it than other people is the game. So all that great foul city of London there—rattling, growling, smoking, stinking—a ghastly heap of fermenting brickwork, pouring out poison at every pore—you fancy it is a city of work? Not a street of it! It is a great city of play; very nasty play, and very hard play, but still play. It is only Lord’s cricket-ground without the turf—a huge billiard-table without the cloth, and with pockets as deep as the bottomless pit; but mainly a billiard-table, after all.—John Ruskin.

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GATE, THE, OF STARS

H. Aide writes this apt fancy of the stars:

“Stars lying in God’s hand,We know ye were not plannedMerely to light men on their midnight way.Shine on, ye fiery stars!It may be through your barsWe shall pass upward to eternal day.”

“Stars lying in God’s hand,

We know ye were not planned

Merely to light men on their midnight way.

Shine on, ye fiery stars!

It may be through your bars

We shall pass upward to eternal day.”

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Generalship—SeeOpinion Changed.

GENEROSITY

A pleasant story about Andrew Carnegie is told by a tourist from Scotland in the New YorkTribune:

At Skibo Castle, Mr. Carnegie had during the summer a beautiful rose-garden. There were thousands of red and white and yellow roses always blooming there, and the villagers were free to saunter in the garden paths to their hearts’ content.One day the head gardener waited upon Mr. Carnegie. “Sir,” he said, “I wish to lodge a complaint.” “Well?” said the master. “Well, sir,” the gardener began, “I wish to inform you that the village folk are plucking the roses in your rose garden. They are denuding your rose-trees, sir.” “Ah,” said Mr. Carnegie gently, “my people are fond of flowers, are they, Donald? Then you must plant more.” (Text.)

One day the head gardener waited upon Mr. Carnegie. “Sir,” he said, “I wish to lodge a complaint.” “Well?” said the master. “Well, sir,” the gardener began, “I wish to inform you that the village folk are plucking the roses in your rose garden. They are denuding your rose-trees, sir.” “Ah,” said Mr. Carnegie gently, “my people are fond of flowers, are they, Donald? Then you must plant more.” (Text.)

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There is a beautiful incident connected with the fall of the stronghold of the Cumberland which General Grant was too modest to include in the “Memoirs.” Many years after the event, General Buckner, speaking at a Grant birthday gathering, said: “Under these circumstances I surrendered to General Grant. I had at a previous time befriended him, and it has been justly said that he never forgot an act of kindness. I met him on the boat (at the surrender), and he followed me when I went to my quarters. He left the officers of his own army and followed me, with that modest manner peculiar to him, into the shadow, and there he tendered me his purse. It seems to me that in the modesty of his nature he was afraid the light would witness that act of generosity, and sought to hide it from the world.”—Col.Nicholas Smith, “Grant, the Man of Mystery.”

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A noble spirit despises pay and money. Garibaldi was always penniless; so, when he had occasion to give, as was constantly the case, he had to borrow or sacrifice personal belongings. Once he brought home an Italian exile, who, he explained, was poorer than himself. “I have two shirts and he has none,” and he proposed dividing. But one shirt happened to be in the wash, so, had he stript off the one on his back, as he was wholly capable of doing, the division would still have been unequal. “I have it!” then exclaimed Garibaldi. “There is the red shirt in my trunk that I haven’t worn since Rome. He shall have that!” A friend, however, intervened, and the Garibaldian red badge of courage was peremptorily rescued. (Text.)

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If I were poor, and had no means, and was obliged to throw my remaining days on the generosity of the public for food and clothes and comfort, I should appeal to the Korean, knowing that he would never see me want, would be respectful while generous, and would never be so mean as to cast up my good-for-nothingness to me.—James S. Gale, “Korea in Transition.”

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Of Samuel Johnson, William J. Long in “English Literature” writes:

In all London there was none more kind to the wretched, and none more ready to extend an open hand to every struggling man and woman who crossed his path. When he passed poor, homeless Arabs sleeping in the streets he would slip a coin in their hands, in order that they might have a happy awakening; for he himself knew well what it meant to be hungry. Such was Johnson—a “mass of genuine manhood,” as Carlyle called him, and as such, men loved and honored him.

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SeeAcknowledgment;Humor and Generosity;Tact.

Generosity Betrayed—SeeDisplacement.

GENEROSITY, CHRISTIAN

If business men generally followed the Golden Rule, after the example of Mr. Frank Crossley, the great promoter of London missions, as indicated below, what a different world this would soon become!

One unfortunate man who had put in one of Mr. Crossley’s engines, and found it too small, but was unable to replace it, and was threatened with bankruptcy, found in him a rare benefactor, who not only replaced the old engine by a new and larger one without charge, but actually made up to him the losses in his business which had resulted from his own blunder. That man said to a friend, “I have found a man who treated me just as Jesus Christ would have done!” (Text.)—Pierson, “The Miracles of Missions.”

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GENEROSITY, THOROUGHGOING

Rev. A. J. Potter, the “Fighting Parson” of Texas, tells this:

Holding services at a place one time I took up a collection for the support of missions. There was a poor old lady present who I noticed dropt a $5 gold piece in the hat. I knew she was very poor and not able to afford so much, and thought she had intended to throw in a quarter, but made a mistake. So next day I met her husband and said to him: “Look here, your wife put a $5 gold piece in the hat yesterday; I think she must have made a mistake.” “No, no,” he replied, “my wife didn’t make no mistake. She don’t fling often, but, let me tell you, when she flings she flings.”

It is just such “flings” of the generous giver that lend “wings” to the glorious gospel.

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GENIUS

Oh, some there are with beauty bright,And they are lust of eyes,And some who blind us with the mindOur spirit them defies.But genius is the great white lightNor mind nor beauty buys.And some will play a wanton airTo catch the vagrant soul;Some find it sweet with dancing feetTo foot it toward the goal;But he who hears the whirling spheresCan ne’er again be whole.Oh, he who hears the whirling spheresWher’er his steps have trod,Has reached the end of human trend;With wings his feet are shod,For he has seen, beyond the screen,Into the face of God.—Frederick Truesdell,Appleton’s Magazine.

Oh, some there are with beauty bright,And they are lust of eyes,And some who blind us with the mindOur spirit them defies.But genius is the great white lightNor mind nor beauty buys.

Oh, some there are with beauty bright,

And they are lust of eyes,

And some who blind us with the mind

Our spirit them defies.

But genius is the great white light

Nor mind nor beauty buys.

And some will play a wanton airTo catch the vagrant soul;Some find it sweet with dancing feetTo foot it toward the goal;But he who hears the whirling spheresCan ne’er again be whole.

And some will play a wanton air

To catch the vagrant soul;

Some find it sweet with dancing feet

To foot it toward the goal;

But he who hears the whirling spheres

Can ne’er again be whole.

Oh, he who hears the whirling spheresWher’er his steps have trod,Has reached the end of human trend;With wings his feet are shod,For he has seen, beyond the screen,Into the face of God.—Frederick Truesdell,Appleton’s Magazine.

Oh, he who hears the whirling spheres

Wher’er his steps have trod,

Has reached the end of human trend;

With wings his feet are shod,

For he has seen, beyond the screen,

Into the face of God.

—Frederick Truesdell,Appleton’s Magazine.

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The cultivated man is not in every case the best reporter. One of the best I ever knew was a man who could not spell four words correctly to save his life, and his verb did not always agree with the subject in person and number; but he always got the fact so exactly, and he saw the picturesque, the interesting, and important aspect of it so vividly, that it was worth another man’s while, who possest the knowledge of grammar and spelling, to go over the report and write it out. Now, that was a man who had genius; he had talent the most indubitable, and he got handsomely paid in spite of his lack of grammar.—Charles A. Dana.

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SeeSmall Beginnings.

GENIUS AND WORK

Edison, when asked his definition of genius, answered: “Two per cent is genius, and ninety-eight per cent is hard work.” When asked on another occasion: “Mr. Edison, don’t you believe that genius is inspiration?” he replied: “No! Genius is perspiration.”

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GENIUS CAN NOT BE HIDDEN

The author of “Uncle Remus” apparently succeeded because he did not try. The literary world and the publishers came to him; he did not go to them. Here was a young, unknown, untraveled printer, of narrow school advantages, tho profitably educated in the best classics, and possessing, besides, much curious knowledge of negroes, of dogs, of horses, of the way of the red stream in the swamp, and of the folk of the woods. He had some familiar old stories to tell—so old and so familiar that no one had thought them worth while writing down—and he told them as quietly and as simply as he talked. But good work, tho hidden away in an obscure newspaper, gets itself recognized sooner or later, and one day Harris received an invitation to write some of his tales for one of the foremost of American magazines. He couldn’t understand it at all, but he wrote the stories, among them an account of the amusing adventures of Br’er Rabbit, Br’er Fox, and the Tar Baby, which clinched his literary fame. His tales succeeded far beyond his expectations, and for the same reason that made “Æsop’s Fables” an imperishable classic. For they were the slow fruitage of the wonder, the humor, and the pathos of a race of primitive storytellers. They were instinct with those primal passions which appeal to human nature, savage and civilized, the world over. (Text.)Ray Stannard Baker,The Outlook.

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GENIUS DISCOUNTED

Those who know Goldsmith best had recognized his genius so little that when he published “The Traveler” it was difficult to persuade them that he had written it himself. He was throughout life the butt of inferior wits, and in the arts which secured earthly success was completely distanced by inferior men, because he had no power ofimpressing himself as others. He had the finest wit, but it was not at command; he had genius and eloquence, but an invincible awkwardness and timidity prevented the display of either when their display would have won him respect. In conversation he was like a man who has a purse of gold, but who can not produce the single silver coin which is wanted at the moment.—W. J. Dawson, “The Makers of English Prose.”

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GENIUS, DISCOVERING

Two boys, mistreated by their employer, ran away, taking the road to Rome. They reached the Eternal City. Peter was taken as cook’s boy in a cardinal’s house, Michael could find nothing to do, so he almost despaired and almost starved. But he liked to visit the churches and gaze at the fine pictures therein.

Something stirred within him, and he took bits of charcoal and sketched pictures on the walls of Peter’s attic room. One day the cardinal discovered them. The boys were frightened, and Michael declared that he would rub them all out. But he did not understand the cardinal, who was amazed at their accuracy and power. He took Michael to a drawing-master, and gave Peter a better position in his house. Michael worked diligently and became an enthusiast in his art.His other name was Angelo. This was the humble beginning of the man who was almost a universal genius—painter, architect, sculptor and poet. (Text.)

His other name was Angelo. This was the humble beginning of the man who was almost a universal genius—painter, architect, sculptor and poet. (Text.)

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Genius Neglected—SeeFriendship.

GENIUS NOT ALWAYS FORESEEN

It is not always easy to pass final judgment, or to say who will or will not become famous. The nestling’s first awkward attempts to use its wings seem to contain no presage of the warbling flight that will come hereafter. Once, at a literary banquet, Aldrich reminded Dr. Holmes that he had declared he could see no poetic promise in some of Aldrich’s youthful verses that were submitted to him.—New OrleansTimes-Democrat.

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GENIUS, PERSECUTED

The last part of Milton’s life is a picture of solitary grandeur unequaled in literary history. With the Restoration all his labors and sacrifices for humanity were apparently wasted. From his retirement he could hear the bells and the shouts that welcomed back a vicious monarch, whose first act was to set his foot upon his people’s neck. Milton was immediately marked for persecution; he remained for months in hiding; he was reduced to poverty, and his books were burned by the public hangman. His daughters, upon whom he depended in his blindness, rebelled at the task of reading to him and recording his thoughts. In the midst of all these sorrows we understand, in Samson, the cry of the blind champion of Israel:

Now blind, disheartened, shamed, dishonored, quelled,To what can I be useful? Wherein serveMy nation, and the work from heaven imposed?But to sit idle on the household hearth,A burdenous drone; to visitants a gaze,Or pitied object.—William J. Long, “English Literature.”

Now blind, disheartened, shamed, dishonored, quelled,

To what can I be useful? Wherein serve

My nation, and the work from heaven imposed?

But to sit idle on the household hearth,

A burdenous drone; to visitants a gaze,

Or pitied object.

—William J. Long, “English Literature.”

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GENIUS, PORTRAYING

When David, the painter, was commissioned to paint his picture of Napoleon crossing the Alps, he asked the First Consul to name a day when he would sit. “Sit!” said Bonaparte; “to what good? Do you suppose the great men of antiquity sat for their portraits?” “But I paint you for your own times, for men who have known and seen you; they expect a good likeness.” “A good likeness! It is not the exactitude of the features, the little wart on the nose, that makes a likeness. What ought to be painted is the character of the physiognomy. No one inquires if the portraits of great men are alike; it is quite enough if they manifest their genius.”—Magazine of Art.

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GENIUS, SECOND RATE

If a man can not be a great genius, is it worth his while to be a little one? Some learned men say not. Of the poets who flourished and were famous a hundred years ago, how many are known now? Of all the bright volumes that brought fame to their authors and made the booksellers of old wealthy, how many can we find upon the shelves of the bookstores to-day? Only a few. And yet, their authors, lauded by friends and flattered by reviews, threw all their souls into their songs, and fondly dreamed of earthly immortality. The fittest survive, and the world has sorted them out with unerring judgment. From the good it has taken the best, and we are thankful.But these little geniuses—did they live their lives in vain because they are forgotten now? Was all their music meaningless, and did the world never miss it when their harps were silent? They fulfilled their mission; their songs went home to human hearts and quickened them with feeling. They sang as sang the birds—brief, tender songs that made the world glad for a day; and tho their names are now unknown, their graves unmarked, their work has not been unrewarded. So let the little geniuses be of good cheer; their footsteps may not go echoing down the ages, but they may sound very pleasantly in the pathways of to-day. If they feel that they must sing, let no man say them nay; there will be ears to listen, voices to applaud, and hearts to feel. The world needs the low, soft notes of the humble singer, the homely harpings of the little poet, as a rest from the deep bass of the bards sublime.—AtlantaConstitution.

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GENIUS SHOULD BE FAVORED

A man of genius is so valuable a product that he ought to be secured at all cost; to be kept like a queen-bee in a hothouse, fed upon happiness and stimulated in every way to the greatest possible activity. To expose him to the same harsh treatment which is good for the hod-carrier and the bricklayer is to indulge in a reckless waste of the means of a country’s greatness. The waste of water-power at Niagara is as nothing compared with the waste of brain-power which results from compelling a man of exceptional qualifications to earn his own living.—Joel Benton,Lippincott’s.

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SeeGreat Men Should be Provided For.

GENIUS THE GIFT OF GOD

Let Raffael take a crayon in his hand and sweep a curve; let an engineer take tracing paper and all other appliances necessary to accurate reproduction, and let him copy that curve—his line will not be the line of Raffael. Rules and principles are profitable and necessary for the guidance of the growing artist and for the artist full grown; but rules and principles, I take it, just as little as geology and botany, can create the artist. Guidance and rule imply something to be guided and ruled. And that indefinable something which baffles all analysis, and which when wisely guided and ruled emerges in supreme excellence, is individual genius, which, to use familiar language, is “the gift of God.”—John Tyndall.

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GENIUS VERSUS TOOLS

A young Italian knocked one day at the door of an artist’s studio in Rome, and, when it was opened, exclaimed: “Please, madam, will you give me the master’s brush?” The painter was dead, and the boy, filled with a longing to be an artist, wished for the great master’s brush. The lady placed the brush in the boy’s hand, saying: “This is his brush; try it, my boy.” With a flush of earnestness on his face he tried, but found he could paint no better than with his own. The lady then said to him: “You can not paint like the great master unless you have his spirit.”The same great lesson was taught once in a museum of old-time armor. When a visitor was shown the sword of Wallace, he said: “I do not see how it could win such victories.” “Ah, sir,” said the guide, “you don’t see the arm that wielded it.”

The same great lesson was taught once in a museum of old-time armor. When a visitor was shown the sword of Wallace, he said: “I do not see how it could win such victories.” “Ah, sir,” said the guide, “you don’t see the arm that wielded it.”

We need all the grace and tact we can acquire through studying the best models and imitating their example; but if we are mere imitators, our lives will be void of real power. (Text.)

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GENTILITY, FALSE STANDARDS OF

The story about Chief Justice Marshall has been told a good many times, but will bear telling again. As he was taking a morning walk, plainly drest, he encountered a young man who was standing at a market stall, evidently in great perplexity. A basket of moderate size was before him and he was saying to the market-man: “I wonder where all the niggers are this morning. I can’t find any one to carry my basket home.” The Chief Justice said: “Where do you live?” “No. 200 Avenue A,” was the reply. “Well,” he said, “as I am going your way, I will carry your basket for you.” They started, the judge carrying the basket. The young man noticed that the people they met all bowed very politely to his volunteer porter, and wondered who he could be. The basket was deposited at the door. Pay was offered, but refused. What did it mean? The next day, while walking with a friend, this young man saw his volunteer porter in a group of lawyers. He asked: “Who is that plain old fellow that they are all listening to?” “John Marshall, Chief Justice of the United States.” “He carried mymarket-basket home for me yesterday; why do you think he did it?” “To teach you the difference between a real gentleman and a snob,” was the caustic reply. If some of these modern aristocrats who consider labor degrading had gone into the carpenter-shop of Joseph aboutA.D.28 or 29, and seen a young man named Jesus at work there, they would have decided at once that he was no gentleman. If they had gone into the rooms of Aquilla at Corinth, a few years later, and seen Paul sewing on tents (“For he abode with them and wrought,” Acts 7:3), they would have despised him because his hands ministered to his necessities. They would not have gone into the synagog next Sabbath to hear that tent-maker preach. No, indeed! Now, can a standard of gentility that excludes Hon. John Marshall, Apostle Paul, and our adorable Savior be a true one?—Obadiah Oldschool,The Interior.

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Gentle Auxiliaries—SeeHandiwork of Nature.

Gentleman versus Snob—SeeGentility, False Standards of.

Gentlemanliness—SeeKindness.

Genuineness, Tests of—SeeTests.

Germs, Moral—SeeSin, Subtlety of.

GESTURES AND USE OF HANDS IN THE EAST

As we (missionaries) talk in the street, or in chapels, we begin to gesture. Remember that many gestures have well-known and disreputable meanings. For instance, I have been holding my hand behind my back as I have been speaking to you. It is a most offensive thing in some countries to hold your hand behind your back. An African missionary was just about concluding difficult negotiations with a chief, when he closed his eyes and placed his hands over them. Instantly chief and subjects alike arose in wrath and nothing further could be done with them. That use of the hand had lost the missionary all that he had gained. The Westerner, in Kipling’s phrase, is always hustling. He must get to a place just as quickly as possible, but in getting there he offends propriety. He ought not to walk rapidly; he is not a letter-carrier nor a coolie. Why does he not walk as a gentleman should?—H. P. Beach, “Student Volunteer Movement,” 1906.

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GETTING AND GIVING

In South America grows a species of the palm known there as “the rain-tree.” It is so called because of its remarkable power of abstracting moisture from the atmosphere and dropping it in copious and refreshing dew on the earth around it. In this way it makes an oasis of luxuriant vegetation where it flourishes.

Is not that the ideal life that gets and gives; that draws the good only to communicate it to others, so blessing the world with moral verdure and fruitfulness? (Text.)

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SeeConservation.

Ghosts, Discredited—SeeReality versus Illusion.

GIANTS

A scheme to produce moral and spiritual giants would be of more value to the world than the following:

Some time since Count Alfred de Pierrecourt left a legacy of $2,000,000 to his native city of Rouen to pay the expense of the propagation of giants. The will was contested by his heirs, who naturally enough did not see the necessity of having giants on the earth in these days, particularly when they were to be bred, raised, fed and clothed at their personal expense. The courts, however, sustained the will to the extent of endowing the Brobdingnagian experimenters with a quarter of the estate, so that an institution has been established with an endowment of $500,000, under the supervision of the municipality, for the culture of giants and the production of monstrosities. The trustees are to search the four corners of the globe for men and women of large stature, and are to pair them off in couples and place them in the homes on a farm near Rouen. (Text.)

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GIANTS AND DWARFS

It is of more consequence whether we are giants or whether we are dwarfs in our moral and intellectual stature, than whether our physical stature is great or small:

Pliny mentions the giant Gobbara, who was nine feet nine inches, and two other giants, Poison and Secundilla, who were half a foot taller; Garopius tells of a younggiantess who was ten feet high, and Lecat of a Scotch giant eleven and one-half feet in height. But we may take it for granted that these figures are greatly exaggerated, while we have a right to regard as authentic giants whose height runs up to eight and one-half feet. The Grecian giant, Amanab, at eighteen years old, was seven feet eight inches tall; the Chinese giant, Chang, eight feet three inches. The Austrian giant, Winckelmeier, who was recently exhibited in Paris, measuring eight feet and one-half, may be regarded as a specimen of the highest stature attained by the human species. At the opposite extreme may be found numerous dwarfs not more than twenty inches, and some even as little as sixteen and even twelve inches in height; but such dwarfs are only monsters with atrophied limbs or twisted back bones, or stunted infants, whose age is usually exaggerated by their Barnums. One of the most remarkable dwarfs on record was the celebrated Borulawsky, who was born in 1789, and died in 1837, who was never more than twenty-eight inches in height, but was perfect in every limb and proportion and was bright and intelligent.—M. Guyot Daubes, translated fromLa Nature.

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Gift, A, that Increased in Power—SeeLittle Gifts.

GIFT, A FREE

There is a legend of a rich man who sent a message to a poor neighbor: “I want to give you a farm.” The neighbor set out to get it, but carried with him what he thought was a bag of gold. Arriving at the rich man’s mansion, he said: “I got your message. I want your farm. Here is the gold to buy it.” “Let me see your gold,” said the generous donor. It was not even silver. The poor man’s eyes filled with tears. “Alas, I am undone!” “Why, it is not even copper,” he added; “it is only ashes. I have nothing to pay. Will you give it me?” “Why, yes,” said the rich man; “that was my offer. Will you accept the farm as a gift?” “Yes, indeed,” replied the poor man, “and a thousand blessings on your kindness.”

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Gift and Giver—SeeLikeness of God.

Gift, Using Our Best—SeeAdvantage, Working to the Best.

Gifts—SeeLove’s Acceptable Offering.

GIFTS ADJUSTED TO TASKS

In the hour of success, let not pride vaunt itself, while vanity looks down upon the crowd, exclaiming, “Why did they not work as I did? Why did they not have courage to launch out into the deep? Why did they not fling their plans as a whaler his harpoon, or a hunter his spear?” Well, because God and your fathers made you the child of special good fortune, through unique gifts of body and of mind. Why did not the poor and unsuccessful do as you have done? Why does the turtle-dove not soar like the eagle, and lift its stroke against any enemy? Why does not a lamb go out for its prey like a wolf or a lion? Why did not a modest violet grow tall as a redwood-tree? Why, because God had planned something other for a violet and a dove and a lamb, and quite another thing for an oak and an eagle and a lion. Men’s gifts vary because their tasks are unlike. What God asks is not success, but fidelity in the appointed sphere, in the ordained equipment.—N. D. Hillis.

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Gifts from God—SeeGod Sends Gifts.

GIFTS, SIGNIFICANT

When the Chinese make gifts they intend each gift to carry a meaning, so adding a peculiar charm. The peach and oleander-blossoms express the wish for long life rich in sustenance and beauty. The lotus-leaf indicates purity and modesty; as one writer puts it, “The superior man, like the lotus, altho coming through mire, is untainted; altho bathed in sparkling water and rising in beauty is without vanity.” The aster means superior to circumstances. The orange marigold, so fragrant and brilliant in the declining season, signifies beautiful in age. These emblematic flowers frequently accompany rich gifts to give them speech.

Every gift of the hand will be eloquent with a sentiment of the heart if the heart’s love is behind it.

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Girdle—SeeBible Customs To-day.

Girls, Betraying—SeeTraps for Girls.

Girl’s Devotion, A—SeeLoyalty.

Girls in Factories—SeeGreed.

Girl’s Interest in Missions—SeeHarvest from Early Sowing.

GIRLS, LITTLE, AND SLAMMING DOORS

A trick that every one abhorsIn little girls is slamming doors.A wealthy banker’s little daughter,Who lived in Palace Green, Bayswater(By name Rebecca Offendort),Was given to this furious sport.She would deliberately goAnd slam the door like Billy-Ho!To make her uncle Jacob start.(She was not really bad at heart.)*****It happened that a marble bustOf Abraham was standing justAbove the door this little lambHad carefully prepared to slam,And down it came! It knocked her flat!It laid her out! She looked like that!*****Her funeral sermon (which was longAnd followed by a sacred song)Mentioned her virtues, it is true,But dwelt upon her vices, too,And showed the dreadful end of oneWho goes and slams the door for fun!—H. Belloc.

A trick that every one abhorsIn little girls is slamming doors.

A trick that every one abhors

In little girls is slamming doors.

A wealthy banker’s little daughter,Who lived in Palace Green, Bayswater(By name Rebecca Offendort),Was given to this furious sport.She would deliberately goAnd slam the door like Billy-Ho!To make her uncle Jacob start.(She was not really bad at heart.)

A wealthy banker’s little daughter,

Who lived in Palace Green, Bayswater

(By name Rebecca Offendort),

Was given to this furious sport.

She would deliberately go

And slam the door like Billy-Ho!

To make her uncle Jacob start.

(She was not really bad at heart.)

*****

It happened that a marble bustOf Abraham was standing justAbove the door this little lambHad carefully prepared to slam,And down it came! It knocked her flat!It laid her out! She looked like that!

It happened that a marble bust

Of Abraham was standing just

Above the door this little lamb

Had carefully prepared to slam,

And down it came! It knocked her flat!

It laid her out! She looked like that!

*****

Her funeral sermon (which was longAnd followed by a sacred song)Mentioned her virtues, it is true,But dwelt upon her vices, too,And showed the dreadful end of oneWho goes and slams the door for fun!—H. Belloc.

Her funeral sermon (which was long

And followed by a sacred song)

Mentioned her virtues, it is true,

But dwelt upon her vices, too,

And showed the dreadful end of one

Who goes and slams the door for fun!

—H. Belloc.

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GIRLS, TRAFFIC IN

Twenty-six years ago in New York City, when I first began to feel an interest in unfortunate girls, and established the first Florence Crittenton home, now known as the Mother Mission, one of the things which surprized and imprest me most in coming close in touch with the subject, was that almost every girl that I met in a house of sin was supporting some man from her ill-gotten earnings. Either the man was her husband, who had driven her on the street in order that he might live in luxury and ease, or else he was her paramour, upon whom with a woman’s self-forgetful devotion she delighted to shower everything that she could earn. In addition to this form of slavery, I also found that the majority had to pay a certain percentage of their earnings to some individual or organization who had promised them immunity from arrest and to whom they looked for protection.But when we began to get closer to the hearts of the girls, to know their true history, we discovered that the commencement of this form of slavery had been even in a baser form—that before the girls had become so-called “willing slaves” they were “unwilling slaves.” Many of them had fought for their liberty and had submitted only because they had been overcome by superior force. Some of them had been drugged; others kept under lock and key until such time when either their better nature had been drugged into unconsciousness or hardened into a devil-may-care recklessness.—Ernest A. Bell, “War on the White Slave Trade.”

But when we began to get closer to the hearts of the girls, to know their true history, we discovered that the commencement of this form of slavery had been even in a baser form—that before the girls had become so-called “willing slaves” they were “unwilling slaves.” Many of them had fought for their liberty and had submitted only because they had been overcome by superior force. Some of them had been drugged; others kept under lock and key until such time when either their better nature had been drugged into unconsciousness or hardened into a devil-may-care recklessness.—Ernest A. Bell, “War on the White Slave Trade.”

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GIVERS, CLASSES OF

First, those who give spontaneously and generously, but only to themselves—auto-givers they might be called.Second, those who give thoughtlessly, without any real or high motive—givers of the occasion, as it were.Third, those who give as a sop to conscience and self-esteem; in a species of atonement for the evil they do—penitential givers.Fourth, those who give as a matter of display, to win public applause for their generosity—theatrical givers.Fifth, those who give because others give, because they are expected to give, and are ashamed not to give, and therefore give grudgingly—conventional givers.Sixth, those who give because they feel they ought to give; who give through a sense of duty and not through love—moral givers.Seventh, those who give in the spirit of Jesus; who give because they love their neighbor as themselves, and above all things desire to help him—spiritual givers.To which do you belong?There are lots of men who will sing with gusto in a missionary meeting:

First, those who give spontaneously and generously, but only to themselves—auto-givers they might be called.

Second, those who give thoughtlessly, without any real or high motive—givers of the occasion, as it were.

Third, those who give as a sop to conscience and self-esteem; in a species of atonement for the evil they do—penitential givers.

Fourth, those who give as a matter of display, to win public applause for their generosity—theatrical givers.

Fifth, those who give because others give, because they are expected to give, and are ashamed not to give, and therefore give grudgingly—conventional givers.

Sixth, those who give because they feel they ought to give; who give through a sense of duty and not through love—moral givers.

Seventh, those who give in the spirit of Jesus; who give because they love their neighbor as themselves, and above all things desire to help him—spiritual givers.

To which do you belong?

There are lots of men who will sing with gusto in a missionary meeting:

“Were the whole realm of nature mine,That were a present far too small,”

“Were the whole realm of nature mine,

That were a present far too small,”

but when the collection-plate is put under their nose and they are asked to put their sentiments into cold, hard cash, they drop a five-cent piece upon it with a sigh of regret, which suggests these other well-known lines,

“When we asunder part,It gives us inward pain.”—E. L. Meadows, PittsburgChristian Advocate.

“When we asunder part,

It gives us inward pain.”

—E. L. Meadows, PittsburgChristian Advocate.

(1220)

GIVING

Kerman, in Persia, has been sacked at least six times. In 1794 the city was almost entirely destroyed by Agha Mohammed Khan, who later demanded twenty thousand pairs of human eyes before he would withdrawhis troops. Kerman never recovered from this terrible blow, and to-day is a byword for its poverty and beggars. There is a quaint saying among its beggars:

“Khuda guft, ‘Beddeh’;Shaitan guft, ‘Neddeh.’”

“Khuda guft, ‘Beddeh’;

Shaitan guft, ‘Neddeh.’”

This means, “God says, ‘Give’; Satan says, ‘Don’t give.’”

The generous impulse is a divine motion: the selfish, is satanic. Many are poor because they are first blind and do not possess the enlightenment of good sense and God’s grace.

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Forever the sun is pouring its goldOn a hundred worlds that beg and borrow;His warmth he squandered on summits cold,His wealth on the homes of want and sorrow;To withhold his largeness of precious lightIs to bury himself in eternal night.To giveIs to live.

Forever the sun is pouring its gold

On a hundred worlds that beg and borrow;

His warmth he squandered on summits cold,

His wealth on the homes of want and sorrow;

To withhold his largeness of precious light

Is to bury himself in eternal night.

To give

Is to live.

(1222)

SeeAlmsgiving;Benevolence;Generosity;Getting and Giving;Happiness;Personal Preaching.

GIVING, FAITHFUL

In the station over which Mr. C. T. Studd ministered in China every man who was a Christian gave one-tenth of his annual income to the Lord. One day a young man who was earning seventy-two shillings a year came to Mr. Studd and said, “Pastor, I want you to give me a few days’ grace. I have not yet got together quite all my tenth.” He handed a good sum to him, and the pastor asked, “Haven’t you been helping to support your father and mother?” “Yes.” “And kept your little brother at school?” “Yes.” “Well, that is more than your tenth,” said Mr. Studd. “You need not bring any more.”“No,” said the young man, “I have promised God my tenth, and no matter what I give beside, I am going to give my full tenth to God.” And he did. (Text.)

“No,” said the young man, “I have promised God my tenth, and no matter what I give beside, I am going to give my full tenth to God.” And he did. (Text.)

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Giving that Grows.—SeeMissionary, A Little.

GIVING THE MINIMUM

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