CHAPTER XV. Be Generous

BE GENEROUS

During one of his wars Napoleon captured two British sailors and confined them in a prison in central France. The men escaped and made their way to Boulogne on the sea coast, without being discovered. For a long time they could get no further. The love of home and liberty at length grew too strong to be resisted, and they resolved to take chances on their departure. With no other tools than their knives the Englishmen made a boat of small pieces of wood. It was a leaky affair when completed, and in order to make it float they had to cover it with some old scraps of sail. Sure of being shot if discovered, and with every chance of being drowned if they reached the open sea, they decided to attempt to cross the stormy English Channel in their rickety skiff. In the afternoon before they were to make the effort they saw an English frigate within sight of the coast, and hastened to launch the crazy craft and tried to reach the vessel. Some French soldiers discovered them, and, leaping into a boat, soon brought them back. The captors were very much astonished at the daring of the sailors, and soon the news of their adventure spread throughout the camp, and the wonderful courage of the two men was the subject of general remark. At length the episode came to the ears of Napoleon. The great soldier was always attracted by a bold deed, and went to look at the boat in which the sailors had started. After seeing it he was more impressed than ever, and had the Englishmen brought before him. “Is it really true,” he said, “that you thought of crossing the sea in this?” “Sire,” said one of them, “if you doubt it, give us leave to go and see us depart.” “I will,” exclaimed the emperor. “You are brave men. I admire courage wherever I meet it. You are at liberty. But you need not risk your lives. I will put you aboard an English ship. When you reach London, tell your countrymen how I admire bravery, even in an enemy.” He gave the sailors money and saw that they were well treated. The French officers were very much astonished, for the captives had been condemned to death, but Napoleon’s generosity granted their freedom, and with it a safe conduct to their homes.

WHAT IT MEANS.

What Napoleon was in this instance every boy can be. Generosity is a beautiful characteristic of a noble soul. As the hands of a clock tell the hour of time, generosity bespeaks heart-felt love and sympathy. And

“The truly generous is the truly wise; And he who loves not others lives unblest.”

This word “generous” was once supposed to apply to nobility of descent, but now it applies to nobility of character. It is used in several ways, yet all fit and depend on each other as joists fit in mortises. Some one has defined the word as greatness of mind. Mind, that which Seneca calls “the proper judge of man,” “that which makes,” as Shakespeare said, “the body rich.” But greatness of mind is much more significant. It is like a large number before a cipher. It is, as Johnson said: “Great in great things and elegant in little things.”

“If there is a boy in school,” says Horace Mann, “who has a club foot, don’t let him know you ever saw it. If there is a boy with ragged clothes, don’t talk about rags in his hearing. If there is a lame boy, assign him to some part of the game that does not require running. If there is a hungry one, give him part of your dinner. If there is a dull one, help him to get his lessons. If there is a bright one, be not envious of him, for, if one boy is proud of his talents and another is envious of them, there are two great wrongs and no more talent than before. If a larger or stronger boy has injured you, and is sorry for it, forgive him. All the school will show by their countenances how much better it is than to have a great fuss. And remember Him who said: ‘Love your enemies,’ ‘bless them which curse you.’”

MEANNESS AND INJUSTICE.

As the North Pole is the opposite to the South Pole, so generosity stands over against selfishness. It glories in the right but scorns the wrong. “What can I do for you, madam?” asked President Jackson of an early caller at the White House. “Mr. President,” replied the visitor, “I am a poor widow and keep a boarding-house on E Street. Mr. H. has boarded with me for several months, but declines to settle his account. He receives a good salary as a clerk in the Treasury Department, but I cannot collect any money of him.” “Why not?” “He won’t pay it, sir.” “How much does he owe you, madam?” “Nearly $200.” “What is his salary?” “Almost $2,000 a year.” “That is a fair income,” said the President, thoughtfully, “he ought to live on that.” “He has paid me nothing for five months, sir. I need the money and came to ask your advice how to get it.” “He admits his indebtedness?” “Yes, sir, but he avoids me, on pay days, and I can get no satisfaction from him, after repeated solicitations.” “He must pay you, madam.” “I hope he can be made to. I can ill afford to lose it.” “Go to him,” said Jackson, “and get his note at thirty days for the full amount and interest.” “His note, sir! It wouldn’t be worth a penny.” “Get his note,” repeated the President, “and come to me again. We shall see how much it will be worth.” The widow withdrew. “I must have some kind of settlement of our account to-day,” she said to the delinquent boarder at noon, “if you cannot pay me cash you must give me your note at thirty days for the full amount and interest.” “Note? Certainly,” replied the clerk, carelessly, “I’ll give you half a dozen notes if that will do you any good. What are you going to do with it?” he continued, as he handed her the paper, without the slightest intention of paying it at maturity. “Collect it,” replied the landlady, firmly. “Hope you’ll have a good time and be successful at it,” said H., smiling sarcastically. “I certainly shall,” said the widow. “This note squares our account in full. You will please find other accommodations, Mr. H., from to-day.” Mr. H. left as requested, and next morning the widow called on the President a second time. “Good morning, madam,” said he, “did you get the note?” “Oh, yes, sir. He was very ready. But he laughed at me for being so easily satisfied with his mere promise to pay.” “Well, madam,” said the President, as he took the note and wrote boldly across the back, “Andrew Jackson,” “put this in the Washington Bank for collection. You’ve got a good endorser, at all events. The note will be paid at maturity. Good morning, madam.”

In due time the landlady notified H. that his note for $200 was due at the bank, on a certain day, but he only smiled. “But that note will surely be paid,” said the widow, confidently, “for I’ve got a good man’s name on the back of it.” “Have you, indeed?” asked the clerk, with a chuckle. “Who was fool enough to endorse my note for $200?” Merely out of curiosity to see who the fool was, he called at the bank the day the note was due. But he did not laugh when he read the endorsement. He could not afford to let that name go to protest, so he paid the note at once. Three days later he received the following letter:

Treasury Department. Washington, D. C., ....183..

Mr. L. H.——

Sir:

Your services as clerk in the —th auditor’s office will not be required after this date. By order of the President.

Yours, etc., ............... Secretary, etc.

LIBERALITY.

The word generous is now generally used for liberality. Hon. Chester Kingsley, who has given freely of his means to benevolent objects, tells how when a boy he used to pray God to give him “a hand to get and a heart to give.” Such a prayer was far-reaching. It meant co-operation of hand and heart, a hand to be industrious, a heart to be charitable. Here is a lesson for every boy. Train the hand to make an honest dollar, the heart to consecrate it to noble purpose and the mind to learn discretion in giving.

If there is one thing that creates happiness more than another, it is making some one else happy.

“True happiness (if understood) Consists alone in doing good.”

So wrote the poet Thomson. “It is more blessed to give than to receive,” said the most liberal Giver of the ages. One needs to give to keep the heart open, to give without looking for returns, though such giving, like the dove of Noah’s ark, always comes back in due season with the olive leaf of reward.

LEGEND AND FACT.

A poor fatherless boy, according to a German legend, had gathered in the woods a dish of strawberries. Returning home, a venerable old man startled him by calling out, “My lad, let me have thy full dish and thou take my empty one.” Pity for the old man’s weakness and helplessness overcame the boy’s reluctance to part with his berries, and he made the exchange. Soon he filled the empty dish and returned with it to his mother, to whom he told the story of his adventure. “Ah, happy are we, my child,” she exclaimed, “the dish is pure gold.” Though simple the story, it illustrates this profound truth, that the simplest and freest gifts return to us in richer and more acceptable favors. Then

“Give to the world the best you have, And the best will come back to you.”

A poor soldier one day called at the shop of a hair-dresser, who was busy with his customers, and asked relief, stating that he had stayed beyond his leave of absence, and unless he could get passage on a coach, fatigue and severe punishment awaited him. The hair-dresser listened to his story respectfully and gave him a guinea. “God bless you, sir!” exclaimed the soldier, astonished at the amount, “how can I repay you? I have nothing in the world but this,” pulling a dirty scrap of paper from his pocket. “It is a receipt for making blacking, and is the best that was ever seen. Many a half guinea I have had for it from the officers, and many bottles have I sold. May you be able to get something for it to repay you for your kindness to a poor soldier.” Oddly enough, that dirty piece of paper proved worth half a million pounds to the hair-dresser. It was no less than the receipt for the famous Day and Martin’s blacking, the hair-dresser being the late wealthy Mr. Day, whose factory is one of the notable sights of the English metropolis.

Be generous, my boy. Not in one thing, but many. In chemical galvanism, it is the number, not the size, of the cells, which increases the power of the battery. In generosity, it is not the large gift, but the number of little gifts; not the one kind word, but the many. Not the great acts, but the continued small ones. To your enemy manifest generosity in forgiveness; to your opponent, tolerance; to your parents, deference; to yourself, respect; to all, charity.

“Count that day lost whose low descending sun Views from thy hand no worthy action done.”