Happy the man, whose wish and careA few paternal acres bound,Content to breathe his native airIn his own ground.
Happy the man, whose wish and careA few paternal acres bound,Content to breathe his native airIn his own ground.
Since we have loaves, let us look not for cakes.
—Spanish.
To be content with little is difficult; to be content with much—impossible.
—Marie Ebner Eschenbach.
If thou hast but little, make it not less by murmuring.
—Quarles.
Contentment will make a cabbage look as fair as a palace.
—W. Secker.
May we never murmur without a cause, nor have cause to murmur.
He that is rich need not live sparingly, and he that can live sparingly need not be rich.
Some have too much, yet still do crave;I have little, and seek no more:They are but poor, though much they have,And I am rich with little store;They poor, I rich; they beg, I give;They lack, I have; they pine, I live.
Some have too much, yet still do crave;I have little, and seek no more:They are but poor, though much they have,And I am rich with little store;They poor, I rich; they beg, I give;They lack, I have; they pine, I live.
—Sir Edward Dyer, (Died 1607.)
If all the gems of earth were mineAnd wealth and power were to me sent,How infinitely poor I'd beWithout content.
If all the gems of earth were mineAnd wealth and power were to me sent,How infinitely poor I'd beWithout content.
—Annie W. McCoy.
Is it possible to find perfect contentment? Some one once said:—"The secret of perfect contentment is, that there isn't any."
"It is a great blessing to possess what one wishes," said one to an ancient philosopher, who replied, "It is a greater blessing still, not to desire what one does not possess."
Contentment is a pearl of great price, and whoever procures it at the expense of ten thousand desires, makes a wise and happy purchase.
—J. Balgury.
He that deserves nothing should be content with anything.
He is a wise man who does not grieve for the things which he has not, but rejoices for those which he has.
—Epictetus.
When the well is dry, then we all know the worth of water.
In conversation avoid the extremes ofForwardnessand Reserve.
In conversation avoid the extremes ofForwardnessand Reserve.
—Cato.
Conversation.—To please others we should talk on subjects they like and that interest them; avoid disputes, seldom ask questions, and never let them see that we pretend to be better informed than they are.
—Rochefoucauld.
The first ingredient in conversation is truth, the next good sense, the third good humor, and the fourth wit.
—Sir W. Temple.
Conversation is the music of the mind; an intellectual orchestra, where all the instruments should bear a part, but where none should play together.
—Colton.
Never argue in society; if any person differs from you, bow, and turn the conversation.
—Beaconsfield.
I never, with important air,In conversation overbear.
I never, with important air,In conversation overbear.
—Gay's Fables.
One of the best rules in conversation is, never say a thing which any of the company can reasonably wish had been left unsaid.
—Swift.
Conversation.—As it is the mark of great minds to say many things in a few words, so it is that of little minds to use many words to say nothing.
"So much they talked, so very little said."
"So much they talked, so very little said."
To say nothing charmingly is a great gift.
Conversation.—In general those who nothing have to say contrive to spend the longest time in doing it.
—An Oriental Apologue.
With thee conversing, I forget all time.
—Milton.
It is better to turn back than to go astray.
—From the German.
He who converses with no one, learns nothing.
As rust corrupts iron, so envy corrupts man.
—Antisthenes.
Corporations have no souls:—Lord Chancellor Thurlow said, "that corporations have neither bodies to be punished, nor souls to be condemned; they therefore do as they like."
Corruption is a tree, whose branches areOf an unmeasurable length: they spreadEv'rywhere; and the dew that drops from thenceHath infected some chairs and stools of authority.
Corruption is a tree, whose branches areOf an unmeasurable length: they spreadEv'rywhere; and the dew that drops from thenceHath infected some chairs and stools of authority.
—Beaumont and Fletcher.
The thatched cottage where one is merry, is preferable to a palace where one weeps.
—From the Chinese.
Good counsel never comes too late.
—German.
From a safe port 'tis easy to give counsel.
He that winna be counselled canna be helped.
—Scotch.
In many counsellors there is safety.
—From the Latin.
Cheerful looks make every dish a feast,And 'tis that, that crowns a welcome.
Cheerful looks make every dish a feast,And 'tis that, that crowns a welcome.
—Massinger.
The countenance is frequently more expressive than the tongue.
A pleasing countenance is no slight advantage.
—Duport.
A smiling countenance indicates courtesy, joy, good humor and happiness.
The character of a man's native country is as strongly impressed on his mind as its accent is on his tongue.
—Rochefoucauld.
The fact that the following verses are heard to-day proves their "convenience," to say the least, for they were written by William Livingston in 1747:——
Mine be the pleasure of a rural life,From noise remote, and ignorant of strife,Far from the painted belle and white-gloved beau,The lawless masquerade, and midnight show,From lapdogs, courtiers, garters, stars,Fops, fiddlers, tyrants, emperors, and czars!
Mine be the pleasure of a rural life,From noise remote, and ignorant of strife,Far from the painted belle and white-gloved beau,The lawless masquerade, and midnight show,From lapdogs, courtiers, garters, stars,Fops, fiddlers, tyrants, emperors, and czars!
—Christian Advocate
A breath of unadulterated air,The glimpse of a green pasture, how they cheerThe citizen, and brace his languid frame.Even in the stifling bosom of the town;A garden, in which nothing thrives, has charmsThat soothe the rich possessor.And are these not all proofs that man immuredIn cities, still retains his inborn inextinguishableThirst of rural scenes, compensating his lossBy supplemental shifts the best he may?
A breath of unadulterated air,The glimpse of a green pasture, how they cheerThe citizen, and brace his languid frame.Even in the stifling bosom of the town;A garden, in which nothing thrives, has charmsThat soothe the rich possessor.And are these not all proofs that man immuredIn cities, still retains his inborn inextinguishableThirst of rural scenes, compensating his lossBy supplemental shifts the best he may?
Breathes there the man, with soul so dead,Who never to himself hath said,"This is my own—my Native Land!"Whose heart hath ne'er within him burnedAs home his footsteps he hath turnedFrom wandering on a foreign strand?If such there breathe, go—mark him well;For him no minstrel raptures swell;High though his titles, proud his name,Boundless his wealth as wish can claim—Despite those titles, power and pelf,The wretch, concentred all in self,Living, shall forfeit fair renown,And, doubly dying, shall go downTo the vile dust from whence he sprung,Unwept, unhonored, and unsung.
Breathes there the man, with soul so dead,Who never to himself hath said,"This is my own—my Native Land!"Whose heart hath ne'er within him burnedAs home his footsteps he hath turnedFrom wandering on a foreign strand?If such there breathe, go—mark him well;For him no minstrel raptures swell;High though his titles, proud his name,Boundless his wealth as wish can claim—Despite those titles, power and pelf,The wretch, concentred all in self,Living, shall forfeit fair renown,And, doubly dying, shall go downTo the vile dust from whence he sprung,Unwept, unhonored, and unsung.
—Sir Walter Scott.
The wise men of Greece were asked which was the best governed country. Clemenese replied, "the people who have more respect for the laws than the orators."
He who loves not his country, can love nothing.
A great deal of talent is lost to the world for the want of courage.
—S. Smith.
Life is not so short but that there is always time enough for courtesy.
—Emerson.
The courtesy with which I receive a stranger, and the civility I show him, form the background on which he paints my portrait.
Courtesy on one side, never lasts long.
Men dream in courtship, but in wedlock wake.
—Pope.
Courtship and Marriage.—"Their courtship was carried on in poetry." Alas! many a pair have courted in poetry, and after marriage lived in prose.
—Foster.
Courtship may be said to consist of a number of quiet attentions, not so pointed as to alarm, nor so vague as not to be understood.
—Sterne.
Covetousness.—A young man once picked up a sovereign lying in the road. Ever afterward, in walking along, he kept his eye fixed steadily upon the ground in hopes to find another. And in the course of a long life he did pick up, at different times, a goodly number of coins, gold and silver. But all these years, while he was looking for them, he saw not that the heavens were bright above him, and nature beautiful around. He never once allowed his eye to look up from the mud and filth in which he sought his treasure; and when he died—a rich old man—he only knew this fair earth as a dirty road to pick up money as you walk along. Thus you see the desire of having is the sin of covetousness.
—Dr. Jeffrey.
The coward only threatens when he is secure.
—Goethe.
The hand that rocks the cradle rules the world.
Credit, like a looking-glass, broken once, is gone, alas!
He who doesn't take care of his credit will soon have none to take care of.
There are two directly opposite reasons why some men cannot get credit—one is because he is not known—the other because he is.
The critic stood with scornful eyeBefore a picture on the wall:"You call this art? Now see that fly,It is not natural at all.It has too many legs, its headIs far too large—who ever sawA fly like that, so limp and dead,And wings that look as if they—pshaw!"And with a gesture of disgustHe waved his hand, when lo! the flyFlew from the picture. "Ah! some dust,"The critic said, "was in my eye."
The critic stood with scornful eyeBefore a picture on the wall:"You call this art? Now see that fly,It is not natural at all.
It has too many legs, its headIs far too large—who ever sawA fly like that, so limp and dead,And wings that look as if they—pshaw!"
And with a gesture of disgustHe waved his hand, when lo! the flyFlew from the picture. "Ah! some dust,"The critic said, "was in my eye."
—Henry Coyle.
Some one has said that finding fault is done on a smaller capital than any other business, and it is a very fascinating business, too, for people of—small calibre.
A man must serve his time to every trade,Save censure; critics all are ready-made.
A man must serve his time to every trade,Save censure; critics all are ready-made.
—Byron.
The culture of a man is like the changing of raw material into the manufactured article. The uncultured man is comparatively helpless and worthless.
—The Religious Telescope.
Curiosity! who hath not feltIts spirit, and before its altar knelt?
Curiosity! who hath not feltIts spirit, and before its altar knelt?
Custom forms us all;Our thoughts, our morals, our most fixed beliefAre consequences of our place of birth.
Custom forms us all;Our thoughts, our morals, our most fixed beliefAre consequences of our place of birth.
—Hill.
Daughter.—To a father waxing old nothing is dearer than a daughter; sons have spirits of higher pitch, but less inclined to sweet endearing fondness.
—Euripides.
This day my loved one leaves me, and my heartIs heavy with its grief: the streams of sorrow,Choked at the source, repress my faltering voice.I have no words to speak; mine eyes are dimmedBy the dark shadows of the thoughts that riseWithin my soul. If such the force of griefIn an old hermit parted from his nursling,What anguish must the stricken parent feelBereft forever of an only daughter!Weep not my daughter, check the gathering tearThat lurks beneath thine eyelid, ere it flowAnd weaken thy resolve; be firm and true—True to thyself and me, the path of lifeWill lead o'er hill and plain, o'er rough and smooth,And all must feel the steepness of the way,Tho' rugged be thy course, press boldly on.Honor thy betters; even be respectfulTo those above thee. Should thy wedded lordTreat thee with harshness, thou must never beHarsh in return, but patient and submissive.Be to thy menials courteous, and to allPlaced under thee considerate and kind:Be never self-indulgent, but avoidExcess in pleasure; and, when fortune smilesBe not puffed up. Thus to thy husband's houseWilt thou a blessing prove, and not a curse.
This day my loved one leaves me, and my heartIs heavy with its grief: the streams of sorrow,Choked at the source, repress my faltering voice.I have no words to speak; mine eyes are dimmedBy the dark shadows of the thoughts that riseWithin my soul. If such the force of griefIn an old hermit parted from his nursling,What anguish must the stricken parent feelBereft forever of an only daughter!
Weep not my daughter, check the gathering tearThat lurks beneath thine eyelid, ere it flowAnd weaken thy resolve; be firm and true—True to thyself and me, the path of lifeWill lead o'er hill and plain, o'er rough and smooth,And all must feel the steepness of the way,Tho' rugged be thy course, press boldly on.
Honor thy betters; even be respectfulTo those above thee. Should thy wedded lordTreat thee with harshness, thou must never beHarsh in return, but patient and submissive.Be to thy menials courteous, and to allPlaced under thee considerate and kind:Be never self-indulgent, but avoidExcess in pleasure; and, when fortune smilesBe not puffed up. Thus to thy husband's houseWilt thou a blessing prove, and not a curse.
See here it is dawningAnother bright day:Think wilt thou let itSlip uselessly away?
See here it is dawningAnother bright day:Think wilt thou let itSlip uselessly away?
He mourns the dead who lives as they desire.
—Dr. E. Young.
One of the Fathers said: "That there is but this difference between the death of old and young men,—that old men go to death, and death comes to young men."
—Bacon.
There was a certain nobleman who kept a fool, to whom he one day gave a staff, with a charge to keep it till he should meet with one who was a greater fool than himself. Not many years after, the nobleman fell sick, even unto death. The fool came to see him: his lord said to him—"I must shortly leave you." "And whither are you going?" said the fool. "Into another world," replied his lordship. "And when will you come again? Within a month?" "No." "Within a year?" "No." "When then?" "Never." "Never!" said the fool, "and what provision hast thou made for thy entertainment there, whither thou goest?" "None at all." "No!" said the fool, "none at all! Here then, take my staff; for with all my folly, I am not guilty of any such folly as this."
The divinity who rules within us, forbids us to leave this world without his command.
—Cicero.
When a man dies, they who survive him, ask what property he has left behind. The angel who bends over the dying man, asks what good deeds he has sent before him.
Happy is, or ought to be, the man who owes nothing.
If you would avoid paying debts, avoid incurring them.
But wealth and power have no immortal day,For all things ripen only to decay.
But wealth and power have no immortal day,For all things ripen only to decay.
Lose this day loitering,—'t will be the same storyTo-morrow, and the next more dilatory;The indecision brings its own delays,And days are lost lamenting over days.Are you in earnest? Seize this very minute,What you can do, or dream you can, begin it.Boldness has genius, power and magic in it.Only engage, and then the mind grows heated,—Begin,And then the workWill be completed.
Lose this day loitering,—'t will be the same storyTo-morrow, and the next more dilatory;The indecision brings its own delays,And days are lost lamenting over days.Are you in earnest? Seize this very minute,What you can do, or dream you can, begin it.Boldness has genius, power and magic in it.Only engage, and then the mind grows heated,—Begin,And then the workWill be completed.
—J. W. Von Goethe.
Let him that hath done the good office conceal it; let him that hath received it disclose it.
He built a house, time laid it in the dust;He wrote a book, its title now forgot;He ruled a city, but his name is notOn any tablet graven, or where rustCan gather from disuse, or marble bust.He took a child from out a wretched cot,Who on the state dishonor might have brought,And reared him to the Christian's hope and trust.The boy to manhood grown, became a lightTo many souls, preached for human needThe wondrous love of the Omnipotent.The work has multiplied like stars at nightWhen darkness deepens; every noble deedLasts longer, than a granite monument.
He built a house, time laid it in the dust;He wrote a book, its title now forgot;He ruled a city, but his name is notOn any tablet graven, or where rustCan gather from disuse, or marble bust.He took a child from out a wretched cot,Who on the state dishonor might have brought,And reared him to the Christian's hope and trust.The boy to manhood grown, became a lightTo many souls, preached for human needThe wondrous love of the Omnipotent.The work has multiplied like stars at nightWhen darkness deepens; every noble deedLasts longer, than a granite monument.
—Sarah H. Bolton.
"He wishes well" is worthless, unless the deed go with it.
—Plautus.
Deformed.—Mock not at those who are misshapen by nature. He that despiseth them despiseth God that made them.
—Dr. Fuller.
Away with delay! it always injures those that are prepared.
—Lucan.
Do not delay: the golden moments fly!
—Longfellow.
True delicacy, that most beautiful heart-leaf of humanity, exhibits itself most significantly in little things.
Nothing prevents our being natural so much as the desire to appear so.
—Rochefoucauld.
Remember that your dependents have seldom a full power of replying to you; and let the recollection of that make you especially considerate in your dealings with them.
—Sir Arthur Helps.
Honorable descent is in all nations greatly esteemed; besides, it is to be expected that the children of men of worth will be like their fathers.
—Aristotle.
When any great design thou dost intend,Think on the means, the manner, and the end.
When any great design thou dost intend,Think on the means, the manner, and the end.
—Sir J. Denham.
The desires of man increase with his acquisitions.
—Dr. Johnson.
Ships that pass at night, and speak each other in passing,Only a signal shown and a distant voice in the darkness:So on the ocean of life we pass and speak one another,Only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence.
Ships that pass at night, and speak each other in passing,Only a signal shown and a distant voice in the darkness:So on the ocean of life we pass and speak one another,Only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence.
—Longfellow.
The shadow by my finger castDivides the future from the past:Before it sleeps the unborn hourIn darkness, and beyond thy power:Behind its unreturning line,The vanished hour, no longer thine:One hour alone is in thy hands—The Now on which the shadow stands.
The shadow by my finger castDivides the future from the past:Before it sleeps the unborn hourIn darkness, and beyond thy power:Behind its unreturning line,The vanished hour, no longer thine:One hour alone is in thy hands—The Now on which the shadow stands.
—Henry Van Dyke.
Not till after the death of a member of Parliament, a prominent county magistrate, the owner of large estates, and an active, public-spirited man in all local and national matters, was it known by those who had not seen him, that it was but the misshapen block of a man that had lived this active, manly life.
He was born with neither legs nor arms. After his death his story was told: how he resolved, when but a boy, to act and live as did other boys, without regard to his horrible misfortune; how he persisted in studying every book, in learning every game, in joining in every amusement possible to him, with his companions. How, to the last year of his life, he held himself to be as responsible as other men, and bravely paid every tithe of duty to God and to his fellows.
Even in lesser matters in life he pressed to the front. He was the most genial, witty guest at social dinner tables. Strapped to his horse, he hunted foxes in Yorkshire, or tigers in India, and with his brothers made long journeys in other parts of the world. Everywhere his cheerfulness and gaiety gave new life to duller souls.
Is there no lesson for us all in the life of this gallant gentleman?
—Youth's Companion.
Dr. Roux, the celebrated French physician, said: "The greater part of preparation for the digestion of food takes place in the mouth."
True dignity exists independent of—"Studied gestures or well-practiced smiles."
True dignity exists independent of—"Studied gestures or well-practiced smiles."
We have all met with a great many disappointments, and if we live much longer, shall likely meet with many more.
Discontented People.—You have such a February face,So full of frost, of storm, and cloudiness.
Discontented People.—You have such a February face,So full of frost, of storm, and cloudiness.
'Tis not my talent to conceal my thoughts,Or carry smiles and sunshine in my face,When discontent sits heavy at my heart.
'Tis not my talent to conceal my thoughts,Or carry smiles and sunshine in my face,When discontent sits heavy at my heart.
—Addison.
Discontent is a man's, and a woman's, worst enemy.
Thinkest thou the man whose mansions holdThe worldling's pomp, and miser's gold,Obtains a richer prizeThan he, who, in his cot at rest,Finds heavenly peace a willing guest,And bears the promise in his breastOf treasures in the skies?
Thinkest thou the man whose mansions holdThe worldling's pomp, and miser's gold,Obtains a richer prizeThan he, who, in his cot at rest,Finds heavenly peace a willing guest,And bears the promise in his breastOf treasures in the skies?
—Mrs. Sigourney.
Be discreet in all things, and so render it unnecessary to be mysterious about anything.
—Wellington.
Thy friend has a friend, and thy friend's friend has a friend;—be discreet.
Woe unto him that increaseth that which is not his!
—Habakkuk 2, 6v.
No man's disposition will alter, say what we may.
Shut not thy purse-strings always against distress.
—Charles Lamb.
Thou, who feelest not for the distress of others,Meritest not to be called by the name of man.
Thou, who feelest not for the distress of others,Meritest not to be called by the name of man.
It is better occasionally to be deceived in people than for one to be always distrustful.
God and the doctor we alike adoreIn times of danger, only,—not before:The danger past, both are alike requited;God, is alas!—forgotten, and the doctor—slighted.
God and the doctor we alike adoreIn times of danger, only,—not before:The danger past, both are alike requited;God, is alas!—forgotten, and the doctor—slighted.
—Anon.
Did you never observe that dogs have not the power of comparing? A dog will take a small bit of meat as readily, when both are before him.
—Dr. Sam'l Johnson.
When wise Ulysses, from his native coastLong kept by wars, and long by tempests tost,Arrived at last, poor, old, disguised, alone,To all his friends, and ev'n his queen, unknown:Chang'd as he was with age, and toils, and cares,Furrow'd his rev'rend face, and white his hairs,In his own palace forc'd to ask his bread,Scorn'd by those slaves his former bounty fed,Forgot of all his own domestic crew;The faithfuldogalone his master knew!Unfed, unhous'd, neglected, on the clayLike an old servant, now cashier'd he lay;And, tho' e'en then expiring on the plainTouch'd with resentment of ungrateful man,And longing to behold his ancient lord again.Him, when he saw—he rose, and crawl'd to meet,'Twas all he could, and fawn'd, and kiss'd his feet,Seized with dumb joy: then, falling by his side,Own'd his returning lord, look'd up, and died.
When wise Ulysses, from his native coastLong kept by wars, and long by tempests tost,Arrived at last, poor, old, disguised, alone,To all his friends, and ev'n his queen, unknown:Chang'd as he was with age, and toils, and cares,Furrow'd his rev'rend face, and white his hairs,In his own palace forc'd to ask his bread,Scorn'd by those slaves his former bounty fed,Forgot of all his own domestic crew;The faithfuldogalone his master knew!Unfed, unhous'd, neglected, on the clayLike an old servant, now cashier'd he lay;And, tho' e'en then expiring on the plainTouch'd with resentment of ungrateful man,And longing to behold his ancient lord again.Him, when he saw—he rose, and crawl'd to meet,'Twas all he could, and fawn'd, and kiss'd his feet,Seized with dumb joy: then, falling by his side,Own'd his returning lord, look'd up, and died.
—Pope.
Food remains for three days in the stomach of the dog, because God knew that his food would be scanty.
—From the Talmud.
If you are in doubt whether to write a letter or not—don't! The advice applies to doubts in life besides that of letter writing.
—Zoroaster.
Our doubts are traitors,And make us love the good we oft might win,By fearing to attempt.
Our doubts are traitors,And make us love the good we oft might win,By fearing to attempt.
—Shakespeare.