Part 21

After life has passed its maturity, great care should be taken not to become indifferent to the affairs of the world. It is salutary, both for mind and heart, to take an interest in some of the great questions of the age; whether it be slavery or war, or intemperance, or the elevation of women, or righting the wrongs of the Indians, or the progress of education, or the regulation of prisons, or improvements in architecture, or investigation into the natural sciences, from which proceed results so important to the daily comfort and occupations of mankind. It is for each one to choose his object of especial interest; but it should be remembered that no person has a right to be entirely indifferent concerning questions involving great moral principles. Care should be taken that the daily social influence which every man and woman exerts, more or less, should be employed in the right direction. A conscientious man feels himself in some degree responsible for the evil he does not seek to prevent. In the Rev. John Wesley’s journal for self-examination this suggestive question occurs: “Have I embraced every probable opportunity of doing good, and of preventing, removing, or lessening evil?” Such habits of mind tend greatly to the improvement of our own characters, while at the same time they may help to improve the character and condition of others. Nothing is more healthy for the soul than to go out of ourselves, and stay out of ourselves. We thus avoid brooding over our own bodily pains, our mental deficiencies, or past moral shortcomings; we forget to notice whether others neglect us, or not; whether they duly appreciate us, or not; whether their advantages are superior to ours, or not. He who leads a true, active, and useful life has no time for such corrosive thoughts. All self-consciousness indicates disease. We never think about our stomachs till we have dyspepsia. The moral diseases which induce self-consciousness are worse than the physical, both in their origin and their results. To indulge in repinings over our own deficiencies, compared with others, while it indicates the baneful presence of envy, prevents our making the best use of such endowments as we have. If we are conscious of our merits, bodily or mental, it takes away half their value. There is selfishness even in anxiety whether we shall go to heaven or not, or whether our souls are immortal or not. A continual preparation for eternal progress is the wisest and the happiest way to live here. If we daily strive to make ourselves fit companions for angels, we shall be in constant readiness for a better world, while we make sure of enjoying some degree of heaven upon this earth; and, what is still better, of helping to make it a paradise for others.

Perhaps there is no error of human nature productive of so much unhappiness as the indulgence of temper. Often everything in a household is made to go wrong through the entire day, because one member of the family rises in a fretful mood. An outburst of anger brings a cloud of gloom over the domestic atmosphere, which is not easily dissipated. Strenuous efforts should be made to guard against this, especially by the old; who, as they lose external attractions, should strive all the more earnestly to attain that internal beauty which is of infinitely more value. And here, again, the question may be asked, “What am I to do, if I have naturally a hasty or fretful temper, and if those around me act in a manner to provoke it?” In the first place, strong self-constraint may be made to become a habit; and this, though very difficult in many cases, is possible to all. People of the most ungoverned tempers will often become suddenly calm and courteous when a stranger enters; and they can control their habitual outbreaks, when they are before people whose good opinion they are particularly desirous to obtain or preserve. Constraint may be made more easy by leaving the presence of those with whom you are tempted to jangle. Go out into the open air; feed animals; gather flowers or fruit for the very person you were tempted to annoy. By thus opening a door for devils to walk out of your soul, angels will be sure to walk in. If circumstances prevent your doing anything of this kind, you can retire to your own chamber for a while, and there wrestle for victory over your evil mood. If necessary avocations render this impossible, time can at least be snatched for a brief and earnest prayer for help in overcoming your besetting sin; and prayer is a golden gate, through which angels are wont to enter.

“And the lady prayed in heaviness, That looked not for relief; But slowly did her succor come, And a patience to her grief.

“O, there is never sorrow of heart That shall lack a timely end, If but to God we turn and ask Of Him to be our friend.”

There is a reason for governing our tempers which is still more important than our own happiness, or even the happiness of others. I allude to its influence on the characters of those around us; an influence which may mar their whole destiny here, and perhaps hinder their progress hereafter. None of us are sufficiently careful to keep pure and wholesome the spiritual atmosphere which surrounds every human being, and which must be more or less inhaled by the spiritual lungs of all those with whom he enters into the various relations of life. Jean Paul said: “Newton, who uncovered his head whenever the name of God was pronounced, thus became, without words, a teacher of religion to children.” Many a girl has formed an injudicious marriage, in consequence of hearing sneering remarks, or vulgar jokes, about “old maids.” Poisonous prejudices against nations, races, sects, and classes are often instilled by thoughtless incidental expressions. There is education for evil in the very words “Nigger,” “Paddy,” “old Jew,” “old maid,” &c. It is recorded of the Rabbi Sera, that when he was asked how he had attained to such a serene and lovable old age, he replied: “I have never rejoiced at any evil which happened to my neighbor; and I never called any man by a nickname given to him in derision or sport.”

False ideas with regard to the importance of wealth and rank are very generally, though often unconsciously inculcated by modes of speech, or habits of action. To treat mere wealth with more respect than honest poverty; to speak more deferentially of a man whose only claim is a distinguished ancestry, than you do of the faithful laborer who ditches your meadows, is a slow but sure process of education, which sermons and catechisms will never be able entirely to undo. It is important to realize fully that all merely conventional distinctions are false and illusory; that only worth and usefulness can really ennoble man or woman. If we look at the subject from a rational point of view, the artificial classifications of society appear even in a ludicrous light. It would be considered a shocking violation of etiquette for the baronet’s lady to call upon the queen. The wife of the wealthy banker, or merchant, cannot be admitted to the baronet’s social circle. The intelligent mechanic and prosperous farmer is excluded from the merchant’s parlor. The farmer and mechanic would think they let themselves down by inviting a worthy day-laborer to their parties. And the day-laborer, though he were an ignoramus and a drunkard, would feel authorized to treat with contempt any intelligent and excellent man whose complexion happened to be black or brown. I once knew a grocer’s wife, who, with infinite condescension of manner, said to the wife of her neighbor the cobbler, “Why don’t you come in to see me sometimes? You needn’t keep away because my house is carpeted all over.” Hannah More tells us that the Duchess of Gloucester, wishing to circulate some tracts and verses, requested one of her ladies in waiting to stop a woman who was wheeling a barrow of oranges past the window, and ask her if she would take some ballads to sell. “No indeed!” replied the orange-woman, with an air of offended dignity. “I don’t do anything so mean as that. I don’t even sell apples.” The Duchess was much amused by her ideas of rank; but they were in fact no more absurd than her own. It is the same mean, selfish spirit which manifests itself through all these gradations. External rank belongs to the “phantom dynasties”; and if we wish our children to enjoy sound moral health, we should be careful not to teach any deference for it, either in our words or our habits. Mrs. Gaskell, in her sketch of a very conservative and prejudiced English gentlewoman, “one of the olden time,” gives a lovely touch to the picture, indicating that true natural refinement was not stifled by the prejudices of rank. Lady Ludlow had, with patronizing kindness, invited several of her social inferiors to tea. Among them was the wife of a rich baker, who, being unaccustomed to the etiquette of such company, spread a silk handkerchief in her lap, when she took a piece of cake; whereupon some of the curate’s wives began to titter, in order to show that they knew polite manners better than she did. Lady Ludlow, perceiving this, immediately spread her own handkerchief in her lap; and when the baker’s wife went to the fireplace to shake out her crumbs, my lady did the same. This silent rebuke was sufficient to prevent any further rudeness to the unsophisticated wife of the baker. No elaborate rules are necessary to teach us true natural politeness. We need only remember two short texts of Scripture: “Do unto others as ye would that they should do unto you.” “God is your Father, and all ye are brethren.”

Elderly people are apt to think that their years exempt them from paying so much attention to good manners as the young are required to do. On the contrary, they ought to be more careful in their deportment and conversation, because their influence is greater. Impure words or stories repeated by parents or grandparents may make indelible stains on the minds of their descendants, and perhaps give a sensual direction to their characters through life. No story, however funny, should ever be told, if it will leave in the memory unclean associations, either physically or morally.

A love of gossiping about other people’s affairs is apt to grow upon those who have retired from the active pursuits of life; and this is one among many reasons why it is best to keep constantly occupied. A great deal of trouble is made in neighborhoods, from no malicious motives, but from the mere excitement of telling news, and the temporary importance derived therefrom. Most village gossip, when sifted down, amounts to the little school-girl’s definition. Being asked what it was to bear false witness against thy neighbor, she replied: “It’s when nobody don’t do nothing, and somebody goes and tells of it.” One of the best and most genial of the Boston merchants, when he heard people discussing themes of scandal, was accustomed to interrupt them, by saying: “Don’t talk any more about it! Perhaps they didn’t do it; and may be they couldn’t help it.” For myself, I deem it the greatest unkindness to be told of anything said against me. I may prevent its exciting resentment in my mind; but the consciousness of not being liked unavoidably disturbs my relations with the person implicated. There is no better safeguard against the injurious habit of gossiping, than the being interested in principles and occupations; if you have these to employ your mind, you will have no inclination to talk about matters merely personal.

When we reflect that life is so full of neglected little opportunities to improve ourselves and others, we shall feel that there is no need of aspiring after great occasions to do good.

“The trivial round, the common task, Would furnish all we need to ask; Room to deny ourselves,--a road To bring us daily nearer God.”

THE BOYS.

WRITTEN FOR A MEETING OF COLLEGE CLASSMATES.

BY OLIVER W. HOLMES.

Has there any old fellow got mixed with the boys? If there has, take him out, without making a noise! Hang the Almanac’s cheat, and the Catalogue’s spite! Old Time is a liar! We’re twenty to-night.

We’re twenty! We’re twenty! Who says we are more? He’s tipsy, young jackanapes! Show him the door! “Gray temples at twenty?” Yes! white, if we please; Where the snow-flakes fall thickest, there’s nothing can freeze.

Was it snowing I spoke of? Excuse the mistake! Look close,--you will see not a sign of a flake; We want some new garlands for those we have shed,-- And these are white roses in place of the red.

We’ve a trick, we young fellows, you may have been told, Of talking (in public) as if we were old;-- That boy we call “Doctor,” and this we call “Judge”;-- It’s a neat little fiction,--of course, it’s all fudge.

That fellow’s “the Speaker,”--the one on the right; “Mr. Mayor,” my young one, how are you to-night? That’s our “Member of Congress,” we say when we chaff; There’s the “Reverend” What’s his name? Don’t make me laugh!

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Yes, we’re boys,--always playing with tongue or with pen,-- And I sometimes have asked, Shall we ever be men? Shall we always be youthful, and laughing and gay, Till the last dear companion drops smiling away?

Then here’s to our boyhood, its gold and its gray! The stars of its Winter, the dews of its May! And when we have done with our life-lasting toys, Dear Father, take care of thy children, the Boys!

ODE OF ANACREON.

TRANSLATED FROM THE GREEK.

I love a mellow, cheerful sage, Whose feelings are unchilled by age; I love a youth who dances well To music of the sounding shell; But when a man of years, like me, Joins with the dancers playfully, Though age in silvery hair appears, His heart is young, despite of years.

MYSTERIOUSNESS OF LIFE.

FROM MOUNTFORD’S EUTHANASY.

About the world to come, it ought not to be as though we did not know surely, because we do not know much. From the nearest star, our earth, if it is seen, looks hardly anything at all. It shines, or rather it twinkles, and that is all. To them afar off, this earth is only a shining point. But to us who live in it, it is wide and various. It is sea and land; it is Europe, Asia, Africa, and America; it is the lair of the lion, and the pasture of the ox, and the pathway of the worm, and the support of the robin; it is what has day and night in it; it is what customs and languages obtain in; it is many countries; it is the habitation of a thousand million men; and it is our home. All this the world is to us; though, looked at from one of the stars, it is only a something that twinkles in the distance. It is seen only as a few intermittent rays of light; though, to us who live in it, it is hill and valley, and land and water, and many thousands of miles wide. So that if the future world is a star of guidance for us, it is enough; because it is not for us to know, but to believe, that it will prove our dear home.

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