Chapter 4

Father, Thou lead me. Lead me to victory, lead me to death; Lord, at Thy pleasure I offer my breath. Lord, as Thou wilt, so lead me. God, I acknowledge Thee.

God, I acknowledge Thee. So when the thunders of battle are breaking, As when the leaves of the autumn are shaking, Fountain of grace, I acknowledge Thee. Father, Thou bless me.

Father, Thou bless me. Into Thine hand I my being resign; Thou didst bestow it--to take it be Thine. Living and dying, O bless me. Father, I honor Thee.

Father, I honor Thee. Not for earth's riches unsheath we the sword; 'Tis our hearts we protect; 'tis Thy temples, O Lord; So railing or conquering, I honor Thee. To Thee, God, I yield me.

To thee, God, I yield me. Round me when death's fiery tempest is rushing, When from my veins the red currents are gushing, To Thee, O my God, do I yield me. Father, I call to Thee.

_Theo. Körner_.

LESSON XXXIV

FRANKLIN'S TOAST

Long after Washington's judicious and intrepid conduct in respect to the French and English had made his name familiar to all Europe, Dr. Franklin chanced to dine with the English and French ambassadors, when the following toasts were given:--

The British ambassador, rising, said: "England,--the sun whose bright beams enlighten and fertilize the remotest corners of the earth."

The French ambassador, glowing with national pride, but too polite to dispute the previous toast, said: "France,--the moon whose mild, steady, and cheering rays are the delight of all nations, consoling them in darkness, and making their dreariness beautiful."

Dr. Franklin then arose, and, with his usual dignified simplicity, said: "George Washington,--the Joshua who commanded the sun and moon to stand still, and they obeyed him."

LESSON XXXV

HUMANITY REWARDED

Joseph the Second, Emperor of Germany, once received a petition in favor of a poor old officer, with a family of ten children, who was reduced to the utmost poverty.

After making inquiries respecting the man, and satisfying himself of his worth, the Emperor determined to judge of his necessities by personal observation.

Accordingly he went alone to the house of the officer, whom he found seated at table, with eleven children around him, dining upon vegetables of his own planting.

The Emperor, who was disguised as a private citizen, after some general conversation with the officer, said: "I heard you had ten children, but I see here eleven."

"This," replied the officer, pointing to one, "is a poor orphan, whom I found at my door. I have endeavored to obtain for him the assistance of persons who could better afford to provide for him, but have not been able to succeed; and of course, I could do no better than share my little portion with him."

The Emperor, admiring the generous humanity of the poor man, immediately made himself known to him, and said, "I desire that all these children may be my pensioners, and that you will continue to give them examples of virtue and honor.

"I grant you one hundred florins per annum. for each, and also, an addition of two hundred florins to your pension. Go tomorrow to my treasurer, where you will receive the first quarter's payment, together with a lieutenant's commission for your eldest son. Henceforth I will be the father of all the family."

LESSON XXXVI

WORK PROCLAIMS A WORKMAN

A certain baron had an only son, who was not only a comfort to his father, but a blessing to all who lived on his father's land. Once, when the young man was away from home, a gentleman called to see his father, and using the name of God irreverently, the good old baron reproved him.

"Are you not afraid," said he, "of offending the great Being who reigns above, by thus using His name in vain?" The gentleman said he neither feared nor believed in a being he could not see.

The next morning the baron showed the gentleman a beautiful painting that adorned his hall. The gentleman admired the picture very much, and, when told by the baron that his son painted it, said: "Your son is an excellent painter."

The baron then took his visitor into the garden, and showed him many beautiful flowers, arranged in the most perfect order. "Who has the direction of this garden?" said the gentleman. "My son," said the baron. "Indeed," said the gentleman; "I begin to think he is something uncommon."

The baron then took him into the village, and showed him a small, neat cottage, where his son had established a school, in which a hundred orphans were fed and taught at his expense. "What a happy man you are," said the gentleman, "to have so good a son!"

"How do you know that I have so good a son?" replied the baron. "Because I have seen his works," said the gentleman, "and I know he must be talented and good." "But you have never seen him," said the baron. "I have seen what he has done, and am disposed to love him, without having seen him," said the gentleman.

"Can you see anything from that window?" asked the baron. "The landscape is beautiful," said the gentleman; "the golden sun, the mighty river, the vast forest, are admirable. How lovely, and pleasant and cheerful, every object appears!"

"How happens it," said the baron, "that you could see such proof of my son's existence, in the imperfect work of his hands, and yet you can see no proof of the existence of a Creator, in the wonders and beauties which are now before you? Let me never hear you say again that you believe not in the existence of God, unless you would have me think that you have lost the use of your reason."

LESSON XXXVII

REPUBLICS

The name Republic is written upon the oldest monuments of mankind. It has been connected in all ages with the noble and the great in art and letters.

It might be asked, what land has ever felt the influence of liberty, that has not flourished like the spring? With regard to ourselves, we can truly say that we live under a form of government the equal of which the world has never seen. Is it, then, nothing to be free? How many nations in the history of the world have proved themselves worthy of being so?

Were all men as enlightened, as brave and as self-respecting as they ought to be, would they suffer themselves to be insulted by any other form of government than a republic? Can anything be more striking or more sublime, than the idea of a republic like ours; which spreads over a territory far more extensive than that of the ancient Roman empire?

And upon what is this great and glorious combination of states, so admirably united, really founded? It is founded upon the maxims of common sense and reason, without military despotism or monarchical domination of any kind. The people simply govern themselves, and the government is of the people, by the people and for the people.

FREEDOM OF THOUGHT

We must have an end of all persecution of ideas.

I condemn the government of France and Prussia when they oppress the Jesuits.

I condemn the government of Russia when it oppresses the Jews.

I affirm that to persecute ideas is like persecuting light, air, electricity, or the magnetic fluid.

Ideas escape all persecution. When repressed they explode like powder.

LESSON XXXVIII

FALSE NOTIONS OF LIBERTY

People talk of liberty as if it meant the liberty of doing what a man likes. The only liberty that a man should ask for is the privilege of removing all restrictions that prevent his doing what he ought to do.

I call that man free who is able to rule himself. I call him free who has his flesh in subjection to his spirit; who fears doing wrong, but who fears nothing else.

I call that man free who has learned that liberty consists in obedience to the power and to the will and to the law that his higher soul approves. He is not free because he does what he likes, but he is free because he does what he ought.

Some people think there is no liberty in obedience. I tell you there is no liberty except in loyal obedience. Did you ever see a mother kept at home, a kind of prisoner, by her sick child, obeying its every wish and caprice? Will you call that mother a slave? Or is this obedience the obedience of slavery? I call it the obedience of the highest liberty--the liberty of love.

We hear in these days a great deal respecting rights: the rights of private judgment, the rights of labor, the rights, of property, and the rights of man.

I cannot see anything manly in the struggle between rich and poor; the one striving to take as much, and the other to keep as much, as he can. The cry of "My rights, your duties," we should change to something nobler. If we can say "My duties, your rights," we shall learn what real liberty is.

LESSON XXXIX

THE VOICE

A good voice has a charm in speech as in song. The voice, like the face, betrays the nature and disposition, and soon indicates what is the range of the speaker's mind.

Many people have no ear for music; but everyone has an ear for skillful reading. Every one of us has at some time been the victim of a cunning voice, and perhaps been repelled once for all by a harsh, mechanical speaker.

The voice, indeed, is a delicate index of the state of mind.

What character, what infinite variety, belongs to the voice! Sometimes it is a flute, sometimes a trip-hammer; what a range of force! In moments of clearer thought or deeper sympathy, the voice will attain a music and penetration which surprise the speaker as much as the hearer.

LESSON XL

THE INTREPID YOUTH

It was a calm, sunny day in the year 1750; the scene a piece of forest land in the north of Virginia, near a noble stream of water. Implements for surveying were lying about, and several men composed a party engaged in laying out the wild lands of the country.

These persons had apparently just finished their dinner. Apart from the group walked a young man of a tall and compact frame. He moved with the elastic tread of one accustomed to constant exercise in the open air. His countenance wore a look of decision and manliness not usually found in one so young.

Suddenly there was a shriek, then another, and several in rapid succession. The voice was that of a woman, and seemed to proceed from the other side of a dense thicket. At the first scream, the youth turned his head in the direction of the sound. When it was repeated, he pushed aside the undergrowth and, quickening his footsteps, he soon dashed into an open space on the bank of the stream, where stood a rude log cabin.

It was but the work of a moment for the young man to make his way through the crowd and confront the woman. The instant her eye fell on him, she exclaimed: "Oh, sir, you will do something for me. Make them release me, for the love of God. My boy, my poor boy is drowning, and they will not let me go." "It would be madness; she will jump into the river," said one, "and the rapids would dash her to pieces in a moment."

The youth scarcely waited for these words, for he recollected the child, a fine little boy of four years old, who was a favorite with all who knew him. He had been accustomed to play in the little inclosure before the cabin, but the gate having been left open, he had stolen out, reached the edge of the bank, and was in the act of looking over, when his mother saw him.

The shriek she uttered only hastened the catastrophe she feared; for the child lost its balance, and fell into the stream. Scream now followed scream in rapid succession, as the agonized mother rushed to the bank.

One glance at the situation was enough. To take off his coat and plunge in after the drowning child were but the actions of a moment.

On went the youth and child; and it was miraculous how each escaped being dashed to pieces against the rocks. Twice the boy went out of sight, and a suppressed shriek escaped the mother's lips; but twice he reappeared, and with great anxiety she followed his progress, as his tiny form was hurried onward with the current.

The youth now appeared to redouble his exertions, for they were approaching the most dangerous part of the river. The rush of the waters at this spot was tremendous, and no one ventured to approach, even in a canoe, lest he should be dashed in pieces. What, then, would be the youth's fate, unless he soon overtook the child? He urged his way through the foaming current with desperate strength.

Three times he was on the point of grasping the child, when the waters whirled the prize from him. The third effort was made above the fall; and when it failed, the mother groaned, fully expecting the youth to give up his task. But no; he only pressed forward the more eagerly.

And now, like an arrow from the bow, pursuer and pursued shot to the brink of the precipice. An instant they hung there, distinctly visible amid the foaming waters. Every brain grew dizzy at the sight. But a shout of exultation burst from the spectators, when they saw the boy held aloft by the right arm of the young hero. And thus he brought the child back to the distracted mother.

With a most fervent blessing, she thanked the young man for his heroic deed. And was this blessing heard? Most assuredly; for the self-sacrificing spirit which characterized the life of this youth was none other than that of George Washington, the First President of the United States.

LESSON XLI

AUTUMN

September has come. The fierce heat of summer is gone. Men are at work in the fields cutting down the yellow grain, and binding it up into sheaves. The fields of corn stand in thick ranks, heavy with ears.

The boughs of the orchard hang low with the red and golden fruit. Laughing boys are picking up the purple plums and the red-cheeked peaches that have fallen in the high grass. Large, rich melons are on the garden vines, and sweet grapes hang in clusters by the wall.

The larks with their black and yellow breasts stand watching you on the close-mown meadow. As you come near, they spring up, fly a little distance, and light again. The robins, that long ago left the gardens, feed in flocks upon the red berries of the sumac, and the soft-eyed pigeons are with them to claim their share. The lazy blackbirds follow the cows and pick up crickets and other insects.

At noon, the air is still, mild, and soft. You see blue smoke off by the distant wood and hills. The brook is almost dry. The water runs over the pebbles with a soft, low murmur. The goldenrod is on the hill, the aster by the brook, and the sunflower in the garden.

The twitter of the birds is still heard. The sheep graze upon the brown hillside. The merry whistle of the plowboy comes up from the field, and the cow lows in the distant pasture.

As the sun sinks in the October haze, the low, south wind creeps over the dry tree-tops, and the leaves fall in showers upon the ground. The sun sinks lower, and lower, and is gone; but his bright beams still linger in the west. Then the evening star is seen shining with a soft, mellow light, and the moon rises slowly in the still and hazy air.

November comes. The flowers are all dead. The grass is pale and white. The wind has blown the dry leaves into heaps. The timid rabbit treads softly on the dry leaves. The crow calls from the high tree-top. The sound of dropping nuts is heard in the wood. Children go out morning and evening to gather nuts for the winter. The busy little squirrels will be sure to get their share.

SELECTION XIV

THE RETORT

One day, a rich man, flushed with pride and wine, Sitting with guests at table, all quite merry, Conceived it would be vastly fine To crack a joke upon his secretary.

"Young man," said he, "by what art, craft, or trade Did your good father earn his livelihood?" "He was a saddler, sir," the young man said; "And in his line was always reckoned good."

"A saddler, eh? and had you stuffed with Greek, Instead of teaching you like him to sew? And pray, sir, why did not your father make A saddler, too, of you?" At this each flatterer, as in duty bound, The joke applauded, and the laugh went round.

At length the secretary, bowing low, Said (craving pardon if too free he made), "Sir, by your leave I fain would know Your father's trade."

"My father's trade? Why, sir, but that's too bad! My father's trade? Why, blockhead, art thou mad? My, father, sir, was never brought so low: He was a gentleman, I'd have you know."

"Indeed! excuse the liberty I take; But if your story's true, How happened it your father did not make A gentleman of you?"

_G. P. Morris_.

LESSON XLII

WORDS AND THEIR MEANING

I tell you earnestly, you must get into the habit of looking intensely at words, and assuring yourself of their meaning, syllable by syllable, nay, letter by letter. You might read all the books in the British Museum, if you could live long enough, and remain an utterly illiterate, uneducated person; but if you read ten pages of a good book, letter by letter,--that is to say, with real accuracy,--you are forevermore, in some measure, an educated person.

The entire difference between education and non-education (as regards the merely intellectual part of it) consists in this accuracy. A well-educated gentleman may not know many languages, may not be able to speak any but his own, may have read very few books; but whatever word he pronounces, he pronounces rightly.

An ordinarily clever and sensible seaman will be able to make his way ashore at most ports; yet he has only to speak a sentence to be known for an illiterate person; so also the accent, or turn of expression of a single sentence, will at once mark a scholar.

Let the accent of words be watched, and closely; let their meaning be watched more closely still. A few words, well chosen, will do the work that a thousand cannot do, when every one of those few is acting properly, in the function of one another.

LESSON XLIII

HOW TO SELECT A BOY

A gentleman advertised for a boy, and nearly fifty applicants presented themselves to him. Out of the whole number he selected one and dismissed the rest.

"I should like to know," said a friend, "on what ground you selected that boy, who had not a single recommendation?"

"You are mistaken," said the gentleman; "he has a great many. He wiped his feet when he came in, and closed the door after him, showing that he was careful. He gave his seat instantly to that lame old man, showing that he was thoughtful. He took off his cap when he came in and answered my questions promptly, showing that he was gentlemanly.

"He picked up the book which I had purposely laid on the floor and replaced it on the table, and he waited quietly for his turn, instead of pushing and crowding; showing that he was honorable and orderly. When I talked to him I noticed that his clothes were brushed and his hair in order. When he wrote his name I noticed that his finger-nails were clean.

"Don't you call those things letters of recommendation? I do; and I would give more for what I can tell about a boy by using my eyes ten minutes than for all the letters he can bring me."

LESSON XLIV

SALT

Salt is an every-day article, so common that we rarely give it a thought; yet, like most common things, it is useful enough to be ranked among the necessaries of life. "I could not live without salt," would sound to us exaggerated in the mouth of any one. Have you ever fancied that you could do without it?

How would meat taste without salt? Would not much of our vegetable food be insipid, if we neglected this common seasoning? And even the "daily bread" demands its share.

Where is this salt found, that we prize so little, yet need so much? The sea furnishes some, and salt-mines and salt-springs give the rest. Most of the salt used in this country is obtained from the water of certain springs. Among the richest of these springs are those at Salina, now a part of the city of Syracuse, New York. Forty gallons of water from these wells yield one bushel of salt.

LESSON XLV

STUDIES

Studies serve for delight, for ornament, and for ability. Their chief use for delight is in privateness; for ornament, in discourse; and for ability in the judgment and disposition of business.

To spend too much time in studies is sloth; to use them too much for ornament is affectation; to make judgment wholly by their rules is the humor of a scholar.

Crafty men contemn studies; simple men admire them; and wise men use them. Read not to contradict and confute, or to believe and take for granted, or to find talk and discourse, but to weigh and consider.

Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested; that is, some books are to be read only in parts; others to be read, but not curiously; and some few to be read wholly, and with diligence and attention.

Reading makes a full man; conference, a ready man; and writing, an exact man.

SELECTION XV

A PSALM OF LIFE

Tell me not, in mournful numbers, "Life is but an empty dream!" For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem.

Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; "Dust thou art, to dust returnest," Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, Is our destined end or way, But to act, that each to-morrow Find us farther than to-day.

Art is long, and Time is fleeting; And our hearts, though strong and brave, Still, like muffled drums, are beating Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world's broad field of battle, In the bivouac of life, Be not like dumb, driven cattle, Be a hero in the strife.

Trust no future, however pleasant; Let the dead past bury its dead: Act,--act in the living present, Heart within, and God o'erhead.

Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And, departing, leave behind us Footprints on the sands of time.

Footprints, that perhaps another, Sailing o'er life's solemn main, A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us then be up and doing, With a heart for any fate; Still achieving, still pursuing, Learn to labor and to wait.

_H. W. Longfellow_.

LESSON XLVI

RULES OF BEHAVIOR

Every action in company ought to be done with some sign of respect to those present.

In presence of others, sing not to yourself with a humming noise, nor drum with your fingers or feet.

Speak not when others speak; sit not when others stand; speak not when you should hold your peace; walk not when others stop.

Turn not your back to others, especially in speaking; jog not the table or desk on which another reads or writes; lean not on any one.

Be no flatterer; neither play with any one that delights not to be played with.

Read no letters, books, or papers, in company; but when there is a necessity for doing it, you must ask leave. Come not near the books or writings of any one so as to read them, unless desired.

When another speaks, be attentive yourself, and disturb not the audience. If any one hesitates in his words, help him not, nor prompt him, without being desired; interrupt him not, nor answer him till his speech is ended.

Be not curious to know the affairs of others, neither approach to those that speak in private.

Make no show of taking great delight in your victuals; feed not with greediness; lean not on the table; neither find fault with what you eat.

Let your discourses with men of business be short.

Be not immoderate in urging your friend to discover a secret.

Speak not in an unknown tongue in company, but in your own language, and as those of quality do, and not as the vulgar.

LESSON XLVII

USING THE EYES

The difference between men consists, in great measure, in the intelligence of their observation. The Russian proverb says of the non-observant man, "He goes through the forest and sees no firewood."