v'
N
^ v^
rL'
1'* ° CP • ,% %. A^ **
The Writings of
Ivan Panin
▼ T
T
Printed for the Author by
The Wilson H. Lee Company
New Haven, Connecticut
1918
.:*. fc* **
Copyrighted, 1918
By
IVAN PANIN
Grafton, Mass., U. S. A.
AUG -5 1918
Copies may be obtained at cost, $2.50, from I. Panin, Graft
Mass., U. S. A.
©CLA503519
PREFACE.
The writer's estimate of his own work, of all
literary work, will be found by the reader clearly
enough enunciated in the following pages. But
he writer's literary life of some forty years has
•en lone ; and no soul has yet been found to whom
*s paper doings could be committed with: "Here,
lorsooth, are the embarrassing things. Do with
*hem as thou deemest best, once I am laid
away." And it is only seven brief days ago that
an only child, a son of seven and twenty years,
w^as laid away first ....
Somehow the time has not yet come for these
bits to be destroyed. And the speediest way to
dispose of what now must be disposed is to
rid oneself of them by handing them over to be
printed ....
What has thus been chosen, or rather what has
been left from the writer's unsparing frequent
housecleanings, is here gathered together into a
book, with contents rather variegated, but all
having one purpose, however dimly discernible
in some of the pieces: to show forth that the
thoughts and the ways of even the best equipped
of this age are after all — foolishness; and that
true wisdom is after all only one: the fear and
knowledge of God, but the God of the Bible; the
IV PREFACE
Jehovah of the Old Testament, revealed in the
New as the Father of the Son, the Savior of men.
This thought makes the unity of the book.
The papers on Emerson and Tolstoy are the
first and the last of a series of addresses on
u Modern Teachers and Christianity/ 7 delivered
in Boston about 1898. The others were Carlyle,
Ruskin and Arnold. But the Introductory
address and those on Carlyle, Ruskin and Arnold
got themselves weeded out in due time : the real
question being not whether they be saved, but
rather whether the two remaining had not better
also follow their companions into their allotted
naught.
The several "Tribulations" recorded in what
may seem a humorous way, were to the writer
then and still remain — far from humorous. They
are, however, a most effective commentary on
Aphorism No. 542.
Not everything in this volume represents the
writer of to-day; but only as he has been at
times.
51 Cluny Avenue,
Rosedale, Toronto, Canada
June 14th, 191 7.
CONTENTS.
Aphorisms
PAGES
I.
Introduction . . ... . I- 18
II.
Of God . . .
19- 54
III.
Letters and Art .
■ 55" 86
IV.
Of Pain . . .
87- 90
V.
Of Sorrow
91-110
VI.
Poverty and Riches
111-116
VII.
Of Truth and Error
1 1 7-1 36
VIII.
Parables .
137-140
IX.
Faith, Love, Hope
141-159
X.
Of Judging . .
160-167
XI.
The Ages .. . .
168-175
XII.
Saint and Sinner
176-180
XIII.
Wise and Foolish
181-194
XIV.
Sub-Humans .
195-198
XV.
Spirit, Flesh, World
199-208
XVI.
Of Happiness
209-214
XVII.
Heart and Head .
215-218
XVIII.
Christianity, True Religion
219-261
XIX.
Philosophy, Science So-Called
262-281
XX.
The Moderns ....
282-293
XXI.
Of Life ....
294-300
XXII.
Of Society
301-31 1
XXIII.
Men and Women
312-316
XXIV.
Of Friend and Enemy
317-322
XXV.
Of Generosity and Giving
323-325
XXVI.
Men and Things
326-356
VI CONTENTS
Aphorisms — Continued. pages
XXVII. Of Speech and Silence . . . 357-361
XXVIII. The State . . . . . . 362-365
XXIX. Of Virtue and Vice .... 366-369
XXX. Definitions . . . . . . 370-461
XXXI. Conduct . . . . . . . 462-470
XXXII. Paralipomena 471-473
Addresses:
I. Emerson 476-506
II. Tolstoy . . 507-532
Tribulations:
I. Of a B. I. 533-541
II. Of a Student . . . . . . . 542-556
Day Before Christmas in a New England
Village . . ..... . . , . 557-564
Inspiration of the Scriptures Scientifically
Demonstrated 565-573
Appendix: Preface to "Thoughts" of 1899 574-586
I.
INTRODUCTION.
i.
The motives for writing are several, but the
motives for publishing are in the artist only three :
a desire for money, or fame, or both; a conviction
that the artist has aught to say and give that
the world needs; a craving for recognition,
sympathy.
2.
Samuel Johnson is reported to have said that
no one but a fool ever wrote for aught but money.
Quotations are ever treacherous things. Even if
the words themselves be correctly reported, their
other equally important part is hardly ever faith-
fully rendered; the speaker's tone, the hearer's
attitude, the place of both, and the time that is
ever independent of either — who shall faithfully
reproduce these? During a thunderstorm an
eloquent divine took advantage thereof with
telling effect in his discourse. He was forthwith
requested to have it printed. He consented, but
on condition that the storm be also printed there-
with . . .
3-
But even if Johnson did thus speak, he for
once spake here inadvisedly with his lips. He
knew at least of certain six and sixty books
(in some one of which he not a day but diligently
read) that, for whate'er else they were writ, for
money they were not writ. The five books
2 APHORISMS
of Moses were not writ for money, nor the
three of Solomon, nor the four Major Prophets,
nor the twelve Minor, nor the four Gospels, nor
the one and twenty Epistles, nor the Psalms of
David, and the rest . . . Pascal wrote not his
books for money, nor Joubert his book, nor
Amiel his, nor many another noble soul before
Johnson's reported dictum or after.
4-
To make mere merchandise of thy truth, thy
beauty of spirit, is no less ignoble than to make
merchandise of thy beauty of flesh. And the
writing for mere shekels is equally ignoble in the
at heart upright and otherwise pure Walter Scott
with the modern at heart vulgar novelwriting
dame whose final standard of literary ' 'success' '
is abundant flow of publisher's checkdom into
establishment set up thereby on the outskirts
of ever aspired-to four-hundreddom. "Dollar
Wheat" quoted right cheerily with satisfaction
at the "prosperity" it betokens, is at least the
reward of honest heaven-appointed toil. But
dollar literature, begun in mire, it ends only
in corruption. Irrevocable is the verdict there-
on: Dust thou art, to dust shalt thou return —
whether the dollarish scribe be man of genius
or only the literary hewer of wood and drawer of
water.
5-
Joubert the man and Joubert the writer
are, what in Letters is in nowise frequent, only
the two members of an equation — the one
the exact equal of the other. The man Jou-
bert is neither more nor less than the writer ;
INTRODUCTION 3
the writer Joubert neither less nor more than the
man. But while his book is for the few, his
life is for the many. He had lived to the allotted
threescore and ten, with what was best in the
France of his day at his beck, admired thereof
and beloved. Yet this man Joubert is content
to print of the accumulations of a life time naught
during his life time. Much water instead is al-
lowed to flow by ere his book at last gets itself
into print : some fifteen years after his disappear-
ance into the grave . . . The man who can
thus live, thus write, is a unique species in the
realm of Letters, a — Joubert.
6.
Schopenhauer, both as writer and man, displays
a genius for making himself disagreeable, objec-
tionable. To a gigantic faith in his philosophy
as the last word of man concerning all the prob*
lems of life raised by the mind of man (any
"philosophy" being already an intrinsic piece of
abiding worthlessness), there was added in him
an unquenchable thirst for what he kept calling
his Ruhrn, his "fame," — the real vulgar applause
as much as fame — which in its unmanliness com-
pares only with the craving of the sot for his
bottle. His temper was bitter, his ambition
ignoble, his philosophy worthless, his heart bad.
Nevertheless, his whole being thus tending to-
ward the nadir, and in nowise toward the zenith,
there are some things about him that stamp him as
a king, though a throneless king. For his dignity
as a man of Letters he displays a truly royal
concern. Not even the master passion for his
Ruhm shall make him bend here even a barley-
4 APHORISMS
corn of his Imperial neck. His self -exalting,
heaven-defying pride, his shaking as it were the
red cloth into the very face of the Almighty, his
perverseness of head and iciness of heart that of
necessity go therewith, must indeed in nowise be
forgot. But it is well to note the fact, the heroic
fact, that when a publisher is after much search-
ing at last found for his Life-Book, his chief
concern in his contract with him is the one item :
that his book be read by at least three scholarly
proof-readers, and the proofs sent to him for
final correction; and that not a line be in any wise
finally printed until returned sheets had his ap-
proval. The book, come what may — let pub-
lishers perish, and the heavens fall — must be
correctly printed, in large type, on good paper,
and otherwise sent forth as becomes the child
of a king. And the type setter, though all the
world spell ahnen, must follow the manuscript,
and spell ahnden, else the book is not to get itself
printed at all. Arthur Schopenhauer — how to
strike a bargain cannily with his publisher, this
he knows full well, as well as Ralph Waldo Emer-
son himself; and the contract is accordingly leng-
thy, and its items numerous, but his heart,
his toward men icy and bitter heart, here glows,
and only for that one item : that if his book is at
all to be sent unto men, it must be only as the
ambassador of a king.
7-
But his masterstroke Schopenhauer deals out
with giant's hand in the Preface to the first
edition of his Life Book. Here is an octavo
volume of some seven hundred pages on the ab-
INTRODUCTION 5
strusest o c things mundane and extra-mundane —
Kantian Metaphysics. Yet Schopenhauer, barely
thirty, longing, yearning, craving, even manipu-
lating for recognition, calmly announces to the
reader of the seven hundred page octavo of Meta-
physics that this book must be read at least twice
ere it can become unto him a piece of intelligi-
bility. And that even thus no understanding is
like to be had unless an equally abstruse, far other
than thin, separately printed treatise be first read,
with problematic title: "The Fourfold Root of
the Proposition concerning Fundamentals,' - —
a kind of analysis of everything in general and
of all things in particular, with a discussion of the
rest besides. The relation of this particular
treatise to Schopenhauer's Life-work, "The
World as Will and Concept," is about the same
as a treatise on Logarithms is to Trigonometry.
I confess I stand before this fact, unique in
Letters, as before a Sublimity, a kind of Mount
Everest among the Peaks. To write his life work
thus, to demand and expect from the reader ab-
solute compliance with such standard: "Reader,
read on my terms, or else hie thyself hence!"
— only an Olympian soul is capable of that. And
when all else of Schopenhauer has at last found
its final way into the limbo of inanity, whither
because of the millstone round its neck it is
surely gravitating, this fact alone must yet keep
his memory green, and cheerily green, nobly
green . . .
APHORISMS
9-
Arthur Schopenhauer is a standing rebuke to
the reported saying of Samuel Johnson that no one
but a fool ever wrote for other than money ; and
he is a swift witness against the whole race of
modern. scribes who, because a dollarish market is
readily found for their otherwise needless wares,
lay forthwith claim for themselves to a divinely
appointed place in the economy of Universe.
10.
The desire for fame is only less ignoble than the
bid for literary dollars : since it assumes that not
only does the fame craver deserve it, but also that
the world owes it to him to know it. This per-
sistent insistence on standing on one's rights,
and claiming one's due, if one has here at all any
rights and due, is the great element of all vul-
garity in the otherwise by no means low. Every
station in life has its own vulgarity, and this is the
Shy lock trait of many a son of Power : with Schop-
enhauer as a classic example thereof among the
giants of men. Writing for mere fame — it too
rises in the pit, and goeth into exile from heaven.
The confusion of tongues was inflicted upon sinful
men first for climbing heavenward by a tower of
their own; but second, for saying: Go to, let us
make a name for ourselves upon earth. The
humble soul beats its breast in fear, Lest we
forget! The uplifted, soul tears its hair in rage,
Lest we be forgotten !
ii.
Napoleon, among his other nobilities, which lay
in neighborhood close enough to many rather
INTRODUCTION 7
lamentable ignobilities, had also this notable one :
When Flattery would fain derive his descent from
Charlemagne himself, he gave answer, "I am
myself my own first ancestor." I dislike about
Corneille the reverse of this: his saying that
has somehow got itself filtered across the cen-
turies: "My renown" (Schopenhauer's ignoble
Ruhm again) "I owe only to myself." And the
ill-advisedest piece of service an editor ever did
to an author he was introducing was to print
among his otherwise highminded bits also this:
"Of all that I write will aught survive? If
renown I win, to what shall I owe it? To my
Limousin Epic? To my Limousin Dictionary?
To these Thoughts? I would like to know."
12.
"His This may be forgotten, his That may pass
away, but his fame is secure!" Shallow wind
up to the discussion of a great soul. If any worth
was in him at all, he cared naught for his "fame."
i3-
The "immortality" had by writers of fame is not
worth having. For the immortality that is worth
having one must be aught more than even a great
writer, perhaps even something wholly different.
14.
The conviction that the world needs what one
has to say thereto is delusion. When Omar left
Alexandria's library to the flames with the words :
"If what is therein agrees with the Koran, it need
O APHORISMS
not be preserved; if it agree not with the Koran,
it should not be preserved," he only wrongly
applied to the Koran what is rightly applied only
to another book, the BOOK. And if men heed
not the Bible, neither will they heed thee, O
man, whosoever thou art, if so be that thy
message be unto life and not unto death. "If they
believe not Moses and the prophets, neither
will they believe though one rose from the dead."
When Walter Scott, who himself had writ some
threescore books, lay on his death bed, he asked
his son-in-law Lockhart for "the book." "Which
book, Sir Walter?" "There is only one book,"
he gave answer, and pointed to the Bible. Thus
with one word — death here as elsewhere proving
a rather stern eyeopener — he assigned their
true place to his toil of a life time, his Waverleys,
Marmions, Lake Ladies, and the rest. Already
some fifteen decades before Scott one mightier
than he had declared vociferously enough that
there is only one BOOK worth reading, this self-
same Bible. • . And what makes Pascal a
greater than Scott is that he did not have to wait
for death to open here his eyes, but saw at six
and twenty what it took Sir Walter threescore
years to learn, and only after bitter disappoint-
ment and sorrow.
16.
But even the philanthropy of the motive to
teach mankind is seldom aught but delusion.
Rather is it apt to be a subtle working of the desire
hid in the breast of every son of Adam to impose
self upon his fellows, the ever-old conceit in one of
INTRODUCTION p
its Protean forms: "I forsooth am wise enough
to sum up in me the wisdom of the ages for my
hapless fellows." For a tyrant is man, restless
until he hath turned the very stars out of their
course to swing their times to his own erratic
oscillations. If he cannot impose upon Universe
his knowledge, then at least his ignorance; and
if not his competency, then at least his incom-
petency ; and if Universe cannot be stirred by the
lever of Archimedes, then at least by gentle tug
of some wire pulling behind the bar room. This
is the reason for the ubiquitous hunger for
leadership, and unceasing attempts at shaking the
eternal pillars of the heavens. Nay, the very
philanthropist is ill at ease unless he can impart
his liquidity for the woes of man in drops of his
own rotundity and bottles of his own fragility.
i)7-
For every great thought sent forth from the
depths there either already is, or surely shall be
some soul born to receive it, though not necessarily
in the same age. When this thought meets the
one soul for whom it was writ, a marriage takes
place, and thus it is that all that is truly great is
perpetuated in offspring.
Genius knowing that it creates for some one,
errs in looking for its mate during its life-time,
craving as it does for recognition, sympathy: the
first law of man in genius as in all else being, It is
not good for man to be lone. But Universe
IO APHORISMS
is pledged for the recognition of genius, it is not
pledged for sympathy to its possessor.
19.
In his first stage Genius is sure that he will
be appreciated by his generation: the craving for
sympathy misleads him here. But the discovery
is at last in all bitterness made that of all chases
the vainest is after sympathy ... In the second
stage he is sure that recognized he yet shall be:
if not in his generation, then in some other. In
the third stage he toils on, and even joys in his
toil with a certain sadness, praising Heaven for
the privilege of toiling, — sympathy or no sym-
pathy, recognition or no recognition.
20.
It is a mark of divine power that it never tires.
21.
Lone is the path of Genius, and sore at times
his heart, and bitter even now and then his soul.
For one who hath beneath his waistcoat not a
bit of cold stone, but a goodly portion of warm
throbbing human flesh, it is already hard to see
the priest of a Taster, and the Levite of a Senser
pass by in silence. But to see them not only
pass by, but with robe uplifted and fringe gathered
in; the inward fatness glistening out of the eye,
and the outward inflation displayed on the lip,
publisher himself meanwhile patting him patron-
izingly on the back, his broken back: "You are
forsooth, dear fellow, a veritable genius; but on
mature, careful, lengthy conscientious, and most
sympathetic consideration of your most valuable
doings, we feel painfully, most painfully, con-
INTRODUCTION II
strained to leave thee, dear good Genius, to wallow
in the ditch in thy life blood" — there is a, time
when even Genius is weak enough (or is it really
weakness?) to feel thereover a pang unutter-
able . . .
22.
Kepler was great when he discovered the laws
that go by his name. He was greater when he
said: If God could wait six thousand years for
some soul to discover His laws, I can wait six
hundred for the appreciation of mine.
23-
I used to think meanly of the ostrich for hiding
her head in the sand. I think better of her since
I have learned that she leaves her eggs to be
hatched by the sun.
■ 24.
For every beauty there is an eye somewhere
to see it ; for every truth there is an ear somewhere
to hear it ; for every love there is a heart somewhere
to receive it. But though my beauty meet no
eye, it still doth glow; though my truth meet no
ear, it still doth shine, but if my love meet no
heart, it can only break . . .
25-
In Letters above all it is true that it is not good
for man to be lone. To the two indispensabili-
ties of Genius for doing its best, native endowment
and cultured application, there must ever be join-
ed the third: the sympathy of the audience ad-
dressed. But mayhap the one lesson needed to
learn by those who would walk with God — and the
bestowal of Genius is ever the invitation from on
12 APHORISMS
high : Come up higher, friend, into the third, yea,
into the seventh heaven — is that for at least a
goodly portion of the way they must walk
lone even to the breaking of the heart. Only
thus shall the lone pilgrim be enabled to keep his
eye fixed upon heaven; and only then shall he
hear the voice: "They that sow in tears shall yet
reap in gladness." . . .
26.
It is the part of a wise soul to be indifferent
to incompetent blame. It is the part of a delicate
soul to be ill at ease before incompetent praise.
I used to be pleased at the praise bestowed upon
my work until I perceived how easily the work
of others is praised.
27.
The man who has the literary instinct should
write: — that is his nature. But he should seldom
publish while still alive. There is then no oc-
casion for vanity, money, delusion.
28.
Is naught then to be published save the work
of the dead? No, only of the dead. But they
need not always be the dead that are already
under the sod.
29.
It is now some eighteen hundred years since
there came into the world a book under auspices
modest enough. No prospectus was sent forth
months ahead to announce the forthcoming
INTRODUCTION 1 3
sensation; no posters were urging the passer by to
read the book, since every one else was reading it.
It was not thrown into the lap of passengers in the
railway coaches, nor were pictures of its author
displayed in the shop windows. The Gladstones
of those days wrote no lengthy reviews thereof.
It was not dramatized for the stage, and was
talked of neither at reception nor at club. So
little stir did it make at its entrance into the
world of letters that the popular dry goods seller
of the day did not deem it worthy of being made a
premium for every dollar of hose disposed of.
Softly, silently it came: like all that is great,
like every true gift from the heavens, like the
falling snow, like the rays of the sun; yea, like
the voice of Him that speaketh unto the heart of
man neither in the thunder nor yet in the earth-
quake, but in the still small voice.
So softly indeed did this Book glide in that
even unto this day, some eighteen centuries
thereafter, no adequate name has yet been found
therefor at the hands of men. As in its highest
moments, the soul confesses before God that He
is the Great Unspeakable, the Great Unnamable,
so have men in their highest wisdom had to con-
fess that this Book cannot be named, and it has
ever since remained simply The Book, The Bible.
And yet this nameless Book somehow gets
itself translated into every tongue, circulated in
every clime; and read and studied, and lived by
every age, every rank, and condition of life . . .
14 APHORISMS
Men are deceived about nothing so much
as about their motives; and the question comes
up now and then, But wherefore dost thou write?
When at my lowest, I find, I wrote out some of the
things seething within me because I wished to
show men that I could write aught worthy of their
attention. And these were precisely the things
which, from the fondness of a parent for even a
deformed child, were surely over-estimated.
But the growing soul soon scrabbles out of
such pit. The next height, however, was in no
wise preferable to the preceding depth. There
are dollars in writing acceptable things ; and even
Thoughts, naked Thoughts, without the tinsel
of dress, can surely be turned into gold, at least in-
to silver . . . But this too, thank God, could
be of only utmost brevity of time. But now with
desire gone to have folk know that there is aught
in thee, with desire gone to exchange thy thought
for gold: desire instead becoming indeed intense
enough the other way — to exchange gold for
thought, where'er obtainable, at whate'er cost —
what motive could there now be for writing?
The esteem of even the competent ceasing
to be of value; and with the new knowledge
of the future life fame having become a mere
bubble blown only for babes, and chased only by
fools — what motive could there now remain for
writing, writing, writing, day after day, week
after week, month after month, year after year,
decade after decade, without a word of cheer from
a single soul dear unto thee, without a ray of
hope for more than one sympathetic soul as an
audience in mayhap a — century ? Why this con-
INTRODUCTION 1 5
stant tearing out this as unworthy of thine art, re-
writing here, polishing there, filing now, adding
anon, looking at this bit with the microscope, at
yonder mass with the telescope, scrutinizing both
with spectroscope — why this unceasing, loving,
sad, lone, yet cheering, toil o'er these bits of
thine, which only few are like to care for, and
still fewer like to find what thou dost put therein?
So after all, the true answer given years ago
by the youth of five and twenty, must it be given
also by the man of five and forty? Said the
youth of five and twenty: - 'Wherefore do I write?
I know it not. Wherefore doth the bird sing?
Wherefore doth the tree bear fruit?"
3 1 -
Both the immature youth and the mature
man, do they then thus indeed justify their
writing? Pause thereat a moment. Say the
youth and man: "Can the bird help singing?
Neither can I help writing. Can the tree help
bearing? Neither can I help composing. It is
natural for the bird to sing, and it is only natural
for me to write. It is natural for the tree to bear,
and it is natural for me to bring forth. Song
is the bird's God-given gift, and writing is mine;
fruit is the tree's God-appointed end, and thoughts
are mine" . . . Excellent all this so far. But
the bird does not say, Go to, let me sing a song.
The tree does not say, Go to, let me bear a fruit.
The bird does not say: I have a God-given gift
within me, and though I perish I must pour forth
my divine song. The tree does not say: I have
a God-given impulse upon me, and though I
be stripped of mine all, I must bear my fruit.
1 6 APHORISMS
The bird sings because the great God hath
made him to sing for purpose known little to
bird and still less to man. The tree bears fruit
for purpose known to tree not at all, and to man
only partly. But thou, Oman, that hast penned
the above excuse, youth of five and twenty,
mature man of five and forty, canst thou gaze
unabashed into the Holy Presence and say:
"Lo, as thou hast made the bird to sing, the tree
to bear fruit, the one to fly in the very heavens,
the other to be rooted fast to earth, so hast thou
made me, O God, to write, to print, to publish, to
make a stir, to be discussed, to be projected
into space as a Life ere I'm gone hence, to be pro-
jected into Time as an Influence after I am gone
hence. And here Judge of all Flesh, is my
fruit, my song, my winged word, that is to speed
itself henceforth across the ages"? ... Is it
thus that thou comest here? Not thou, O worm!
32.
Wherefore then dost thou write? is no longer
answered so lightly. But this is only yet a half
view. The answer given also says: "I know it
not." I enjoy the bird's song even though I know
not the wherefore of its singing, and would only
lose the enjoyment were I to ponder long over
its Wherefore. I enjoy the tree's fruit, the un-
eatable only less than the eatable. But the
enjoyment of both would be speedily lost were I
to ponder long o'er the wherefore of the blossom,
the fruit. Thus I know not wherefore I write ; but
since writing in me is, and thus I write, shall here
too the Wherefore not be inquired into, lest aught
be lost by unlawful prying into what is best
left unpryed into ?
INTRODUCTION 1 7
Do I write then solely as sings the bird, as
bears the tree ? Am I then — to take in the whole
horizon of the likeness — writing as the lamb emits
its bleating, because this is lamb-like; the ox his
bellowing, becuase this is ox-like; the ass his
braying, because this is ass-like; as the swine is
grunting, because this is swine-like? Am I thus
writing like unto all these just merely because
writing is I-like? Clearly, neither is this yet the
whole of the matter.
A fragment I just picked up among my papers
let it furnish the true and final answer about the
wherefore of my writing, about the wherefore of all
true writing :
33-
"In jotting down a few memoranda about my
work as literary craftsman I wish it distinctly
understood that from God's point of view, from
the point of view of one whose burning desire is
to glorify God by his life in every deed, word, and
thought, the point of view of one who would fain
be a mere doorkeeper in the house of God, or
a mere hewer of wood and drawer of water for
howe'er small a company of Christ's little ones —
from the point of view of such a one, I do not
think literary work for its own sake worth doing.
Fiction and the drama, with even truth as their
end, are so steeped in falsehood as to leave even
the best thereof essentially unclean. And the
prettier the lie's attire, the deadlier its snare.
I take this life to be the preparation for another,
and as fiction and speculation are surely not found
there, I have no use for them here.
"Poesy has been thrust out already even from
wise Plato's high estate. And with fiction, drama,
1 8 APHORISMS
poesy, and oratory (a kind of bastard of drama and
poesy), betaking themselves hence, literature is
henceforth without spinal column. History, biog-
raphy, travels, belong rather to the realm of pass-
ing cyclopedia than to that of Letters; their
store consisting solely of things not temporal,
but of things eternal, of things of beauty that are
joy for aye. Essays, which are mere comments
on Life, Maxims, which are mere summaries of
Life, and all that lies between, aphorisms, medi-
tations, letters, are thus all that constitutes pure
literature and undefiled. But to Christian even
this is mere luxury, in nowise a necessity. And in
a world that lieth in the Evil one, the busying
with luxuries is hardly fit and sober occupation for
the disciple of Him who For this purpose was made
manifest that He might destroy the works of the
devil. Not for me then is Literature as a life con-
stancy. But in my Christian life I have been
lone, and no occupation has been vouchsafed unto
me by which I could feel that God is glorified in
the labor of my hands.
''My literary labors have therefore been with
me mere pastime, which I would fain have left
any moment for aught that I have deemed more
profitable.
"But being thus driven back to an occupation
which from the highest point of view has to me at
least hardly any value, I was bound to do the little
I could with the best that in me was ; and this being
the case, the world judging by its own standard
must in time find much here worthy of its atten-
tion even from its own point of view, as is bound
to be the case with all work that is genuine, and
deeply felt and truly felt."
II.
OF GOD.
34-
My early booklets began with the chapter
on Sorrow. Forthwith I was advised never again
to begin my book thus : It will not forsooth sell so
well!
Now men have indeed itching ears, heaping up
teachers to themselves; and they say unto their
prophets: " Prophesy unto us only smooth
things!" For in the things of God folk prefer
to be asleep, and prophets are disliked because
they disturb the rest. And there has even arisen
a new science so-called, yea, a Religion, whose
cardinal preachment is: Think not that Sin,
Disease, Evil, yea death itself, are. Just think
that they are not, and lo, they cease to be!"
35-
All this, however, is only for silly folk. Sober
souls know that sin is, disease is, death is, evil is.
That by no manner of somersaulting, whether
mental or otherwise, can these be gotten rid of.
Through the mercy of God there is indeed escape
here, but not by the turning of the head away
therefrom; rather by giving all these first a manly,
unflinching, full-eyed look. And the immediate
result of such wholesome gaze is the equally
wholesome — Sorrow. Not indeed the sorrow of
the world that bringeth death, but the Godly
sorrow that worketh repentance.
20 APHORISMS
36.
Nevertheless, I follow the advice of those well-
meaning folk, and this time begin my book not
with Sorrow, though for a reason as far from theirs
as East is from West.
37-
I begin not with Sorrow — even though Man is
born unto Sorrow, as the sparks fly upward;
even though Through many tribulations must
we enter the kingdom of God — because Sorrow is
after all not the Central fact of Life any more than
Joy is its ultimate end.
Happiness, misery, howe'er desirable the at-
tainment of the one and the escape from the other,
are after all life's episodes, they form in nowise
its eras, its epochs. For as the ways to heaven
and hell are travelled : the one by those who choose
what they should, the other by those who choose
what they would, so man's first lesson from his
mother's breast must ever be that he is here not
to be happy first, but to do his duty first; that he
is here not to have what he would, but to do what
he should.
38,
The four cardinal points of Life are: God, Love,
Duty, Sorrow. But these form not a foursquare.
Life is still a circle, but with God for its Centre.
Love and Sorrow are only the two points which de-
termine its arc. Duty is the path of the circle
travelled by Love and Sorrow round the great
God, the Centre.
Accordingly it is with God that I begin.
OP GOD 21
39-
One of the fatal vices of the modern mind is
the revival of Don-Quixoteism : the rushing against
every windmill as a foe of the race: changed in
our modern conditions to the starting of "prob-
lems" where no problem is. The "problem" of
the origin of the universe is of this sort. To the
question, Who made the world? only two answers
are possible : Either it made itself, or a maker made
it — God. The wise of all ages have ever shown
their wisdom not only in uniformly maintaining
that the world was created by God, but also in
hardly even entertaining the thought that the
universe made itself. Things do not make them-
selves, they are always made out of aught else.
It is the modern wise men, the philosophers, that
have started the "problem :" How can a world that
is clearly made have been made by one, when we
forsooth, the wise men, fail to see that one? This
is the modern "insoluble problem" as to the origin
of the universe.
40.
Now the modern problem raiser is irrational;
though not necessarily in asserting that the
Creation of the universe by God does not give the
final answer to the questioning of man as to the
origin of things. For on being told that God made
the world, the question is not irrational, But who
made God? It is admitted that the question can
be raised, and that it presents a difficulty. But
the unreasonableness of the modern problem
raiser consists in ignoring the vital fact that a mere
difficulty is not sufficient to be set against a
manifest absurdity. The question as to the origin
2 2 APHORISMS
of God presents a difficulty. The answer that
the world made itself, even though disguised in
the form of having thus existed forever, is an ab-
surdity. A difficulty the human mind may
indeed confess and accept; an absurdity it can
only repudiate, and promptly dismiss. And the
fatal vice of the modern mind is the readiness to
accept as an "explanation," or "solution," a mani-
fest absurdity for the sake of evading a mere
difficulty.
41.
It is a fact that in the universe to-day Intelli-
gence is: in beast, in man. It either always was
therein, or had a beginning sometime. If it
always was — before man, before beast — we have
God, the eternal God at once. But if the intel-
ligence now seen in the universe had a beginning,
then starting with a mass of stocks, and stones,
hay, stubble and mud, and water and gas, we at
last, without any adequate source or cause, get
intelligence out of rocks; life out of death, matter
out of space. If this is intelligible or intelligent
to any let him believe it if he likes; but sober folk
waste no time therewith.
42.
With God, therefore, men must start, do what
they may. What then about God? Whence
He? Well: Seeing that turn as I may, I must
accept Him, I frankly confess: I do not know;
and am therewith content, for the simple reason
that it is not mine to know. God being the maker
of all, He is mine too. But the thing made cannot
comprehend Him that makes, except in so far
that He chooses to make Himself comprehensible.
OF GOD 23
43-
My cat comprehends me, even though she be
my inferior; but only up to the point that I choose
to make myself comprehensible to her. Were I
to stand motionless before her, heedless of her
mewings, I would be to her that much stone.
My petting her, feeding her, and speaking to her,
raises her up to me for some comprehension. But
even this can be accomplished only within certain
feline limits, and these limits I can narrow by
refusal to communicate to her.
44.
And the relation of man to God is not unlike
that of the cat to man. If God chooses to reveal
Himself to men, they can (and often do) compre-
hend Him, but solely within the limits set herein
to man. The Creator of man must needs be
the Superior of man, and man can never compre-
hend God wholly until made His fellow. And
unto this man has assuredly not yet attained.
Now how God came at all to be is one of those
matters about which God has not seen fit to
communicate with man; and the ''problem"
about His origin, seeing that His existence has
to be accepted anyhow, is simply an — imperti-
nence; in God's language a piece of — folly. Hence
it is that in God's book (assuming that God
would have a book of His own) the wise men
of this age, the philosophers, who think themselves
entitled to raise thp question at all, are called
bluntly and unceremoniously — fools . . .
45-
If my cat began to "reason" about me beyond
her milk and meat that I give her, and the oc-
24 APHORISMS
casional pat — (which is all she is ever like to know
of me in relation to her) — in the same manner as
the wise of this age, the philosophers, * 'reason' '
about God, and went on to mew out in cat books
to catdom her notions of me, she would be sent
not to the cattery, but to the chloroformer.
That God does not forthwith send jthe ' 'phil-
osophers" either to the Asylum (as in the case
of Nietsche) or to the grave (the final destiny
of the rest) is what distinguishes Him from the
mere master of the cat. The one is a mere
worm of a man, the other is GOD, long-suffering
and merciful to the foolishness of man, to the
arrogance of " philosophers."
The central fact in the history of man is Christ ;
the central fact in the life of men is God.
47-
The world itself and its history is only con-
fusion; one thing alone brings order therein — the
thought of God. All else only adds to the con-
fusion and makes it at last chaos.
48.
Without God all is riddle. With God all is
not yet indeed intelligible, but what is intelligible
is at least intelligent.
49.
Godliness — the oculist par excellence.
50.
Nothing is great without God, nothing is small
with God.
OF GOD 25
Si-
Faith in God makes all things possible ; hope in
God makes all things endurable; love to God
makes all things enjoyable.
52.
To depart from God is indeed a calamity; but
there is a greater: to part with God.
53-
The sea has many names, but is everywhere the
same salt water. Vice has many appellations,
but is everywhere the same departure from God.
54.
The greatest sorrow is not to be appreciated
by men; the greatest misfortune, not to appre-
ciate God.
55-
Not to appreciate men is our great loss in this
life. Not to appreciate God is our great loss also
in the next.
56.
The crying sin toward men is unkindness,
which is only inappreciation of them. The crying
sin toward God is ingratitude, which is again in-
appreciation of Him.
57-
"Were the oxen to represent their God they
would make Him jwith horns!" Possibly; but
friends, have you asked the oxen?
58.
The pantheist is an atheist with a little bash-
fulness.
26 APHORISMS
59-
I have known noble folk, but without God.
The color of the peach was there, and much of its
flavor; but the bloom was lacking, and the worm
was within . . .
60.
In the first chapter of Romans God has a con-
troversy with those who know or ought to know
Him, and give not the glory due unto His name.
But in all Scripture He hath not a word of re-
monstrance with those who say There is no God.
"The fool hath said in his heart, There is no God"
is His verdict upon such, and with fools it is idle
to remonstrate.
61.
My neighbor tells me, There is no God! I
give him his dinner — this much I owe to him.. I
keep an eye on my spoons — this much I owe to
myself.
62.
The two great certainties of life are: God in
heaven, sorrow on earth. Who knows not yet
sorrow is still an ignoramus. Who is still un-
certain about God is already a fool.
6 3 - _
The great end of man is to know; the great
end of God is to be known.
64.
Who knows God less than what is in the
Bible will not understand Him. Who knows
God more than what is in the Bible will misunder-
stand Him.
OF GOD 27
65-
To know the world one must know God; to
know God one need not know the world.
66
True worship enjoys God, true religion pos-
sesses Him, true science finds Him, true philoso-
phy seeks Him.
67.
Two men please God: who loves Him with all
his heart because he knows Him; who seeks Him
with all his heart because he knows Him not.
68.
God is unknowable, but only to those who will
not to know Him. God is invisible, but only to
those who will not to see Him. God is unsearch-
able but only to those who wish to find Him out,
not to those who wish to find Him.
69.
The surest way to possess God is to lay hold of
Him. The surest way to lose Him is to try to
grasp Him.
70.
To have God we need not even understand Him.
To lose Him we need only try to define Him.
The godly are apt to err in thinking that they
can know all about God ; the ungodly err in think-
ing that they can know nothing of God.
72.
Man's work is not understood till His intention
: is known. God's work is never so misunderstood
28 APHORISMS
as when His whole intention is deemed to be
known.
73-
The more a thing is in sight the less apt it is
to be seen. But God can only then be seen when
He is constantly looked if not at, at least for.
74-
To see God in nothing — that is atheism. To
see God in everything — that is pantheism. Only
to see God over everything, to look for Him in
anything — that is true godliness.
75-
Familiarity with the noble breeds contempt
thereof; a reason why God, ever ready to reveal
Himself to man is also ever hiding Himself from
man.
76.
The vice of metaphysics is its frantic attempt
to touch the so-called " thing itself," the German's
will-of-the-wisp das Ding an Sick. But Nature
resents actual touch, as the pure Virgin resents
unhallowed embrace. The stove warms at an
interval, it burns when touched. It is the very
nature of God that while He ever strives to reveal
Himself, he ever hides Himself enough to remain
the invisible one. Cloud and darkness are round
about Him even when as at Sinai He speaks with
thunder.
77-
To believe the evidence about God is not yet
to believe God.
OF GOD 29
78.
God is not understood alike by the wise and the
foolish. But the wise are in the dark only about
the punctuation, the foolish misread also God's
text.
79.
Creation proves the existence of the Creator ; its
beauty and perfection show forth His power and
wisdom. The misery of His creatures displays
His holiness. Only their happiness can show
forth His love. And their misery is but too often
their needful preparation for the true happiness.
80.
In Creation we see a God of power; in Provi-
dence, a God of wisdom; in the Law, a God of
Justice; in the Gospel, the God of love.
81.
God is to be feared because of His power, He is
to be depended on because of His justice, He is
to be trusted because of His wisdom, He is to be
loved because of His mercy, He is to be adored
because of His majesty.
82.
Power is honored by submission; merit, by
respect; and beauty, by admiration. In God the
three are to be honored by worship.
83.
God is entitled to faith from men because of
the little they know of Him. He demands faith
from men because of the much they know not of
Him.
30 APHORISMS
8 4 .
God's commands presuppose His wisdom;
man's obedience can always prove it.
85-
From Nature we learn that God cares for the
mass. From Revelation we learn that he cares
also for the individual.
86.
The book of Nature is the evening edition, the
book of Revelation is the morning edition of
God's message unto men. But in both as in the
newspaper the editorial page is the same.
87.
Nature is best studied in things natural; God,
in things spiritual; and then there is order. It is
when God is confined to the natural, and nature
imported into the spiritual that confusion begins.
From God men may keep away, they cannot
get away.
89.
Who plans not with God plans not therefore
without God.
90.
Now and then a desperate chessplayer loses
his queen early in the game, yet keeps on playing
hoping against hope yet to retrieve the game.
Every one who starts out in life without -God is
such a desperate player.
OF GOD 31
91.
In his efforts to escape his misery apart from
God man is like the moving railway engine:
travel it never so fast it cannot leave the smoke
behind without new smoke ever hovering about.
92.
The remedies for the ills of men that have no
Christ in them are like the lights that glow in the
field on summer nights: beautiful in the dark,
until daylight reveals them to be only — bugs.
93-
We smile at the Chinese for bringing up their
women with club feet. But our education which
leaves God out brings up not only our women
but also our men with club feet . . .
94.
The most comfortable place for the child is the
bosom of the mother; the most natural place for
the man is the bosom of the Father. And as
much of the babe's restlessness is due to separation
from the bosom of the mother, so all of man's
restlessness is due to his absence from the bosom
of the Father.
95-
The Father — the Divine over men; the Son —
the Divine for men ; the Spirit — the Divine in men.
96.
As long as He was God of the Jews only, Je-
hovah was content to be known only as the One
Who Is, Jehovah the one God. The Jews were
not metaphysicians, and raised no silly questions.
But when He becomes also the God of the Greeks,
32 APHORISMS
He condescends to make Himself known as
God Triune. The Greeks were metaphysicians.
His Unity is God's revelation of Himself to man
simple, natural. His Trinity is God's condescen-
sion to man complex, artificial, God's long-
suffering with man even when raising silly
questions.
97-
When put under a tree to enjoy its shade and
shelter, to eat its fruit, and gather in for winter
comfort its shed leaves, and chop up its withered
branches both for heat and exercise, and draw off
the sap when flowing, and munch its bark when I
have a cold — I will not fritter away my time with
speculations as to the exact metaphysical re-
lation between the root, the trunk and the
branches: whether the three are one, or the one is
three; or whether each separately is the tree, or all
together. I leave this ''discussion" to such folk as
enjoy this sort of a thing. To me, it is unattract-
ive, because I think it mere trifling, even if I
did not know that the "discussion" is sure to end
in spoiling for me my beloved and useful tree . .
When my head and a post are in collision,
it is a delicate metaphysical question whether I
hit the post or the post hit me. But the discussion
thereof immediately after the hitting would mark
me for the Asylum. I fail to see why the dis-
cussion in the abstract should not land one there
as effectually as in the concrete.
Now the discussion of the Trinity as a mere
piece of arithmetic strikes me as on par with the
rest.
OF GOD 33
9 8.
In their relation to God men are of three kinds :
who love not God — these are the atheists at heart,
whatever they be in name; who love their God —
these are the idolators at heart, whatever their
name. Only those who love God — these are His
servants at heart, whatever their name.
99.
In their relation to God men have ever been
divided into two classes: those who recognize
His presence and walk in accordance with this,
and those who ignore His presence and walk in
accordance with that. Philosophers may divide
men into theists and atheists, into deists and
pantheists, into positivists or agnostics. But
unrefined simple division is ever between the
Godly and the unGodly, between him that
hath regard to God, and f eareth Him ; and Him
that hath no regard, and thus despiseth Him;
between him that putteth his trust in God
because he knoweth his own weakness, and him
that putteth his trust in himself because he ex-
ulteth in his own strength.
100.
Think not too little of others, and be saved from
judging your fellows. Think not too much of
yourself, and be saved from judging God.
101.
Tears before men are a mark of weakness, tears
before God are a mark of strength.
102.
By falling before God we rise toward Him.
34 APHORISMS
IO3.
By soaring we may rise toward the heaven, only
by stooping do we rise toward God.
104.
Man is not great till he beholds his own littleness.
105.
Folk measure greatness by its ability to walk
erect. But God's great men are those who have
learned first to bow and then to remain stooping.
106.
By realizing our unworthiness of God's love we
become worthy thereof.
107.
To have our eyes open unto men we must shut
them before God.
108.
The crying sin toward man is selfishness ; toward
God, self -righteousness.
109.
Only he can love God who loves others and
hates himself.
no.
It is not true that Nature loves a vacuum, but
God does.
in.
Men's chief mistake is in their ledger. They
treat God as one of their debtors, He is only their
creditor.
112.
To those who confess that God owes them noth-
ing He becomes debtor for everything.
OF GOD 35
To be filled man must come to God as the bucket
comes to the well — empty. And like the bucket
must be content to be first turned upside down.
114.
We must come to God as children if we are to
walk as men.
115,
With men we can afford to be children some-
times. With God we must be children always.
116.
A man's satisfaction with himself is to God's
satisfaction with him as the arms of the scales are
to each other: when one goes up the other goes
down.
117.
Two men please God: who prays confidently for
his need because he trusts God, who prays timidly
for his need because he distrusts himself.
118.
Tears of pain may draw men to God. Tears
of penitence draw God to men.
119.
In judging others the great desideratum is love ;
in judging ourselves, humility. Love is justice to
man, humility is justice to God.
120.
Men think of God as like themselves, and only
show thereby their ignorance of God. It is a
mark of knowledge of God when men see them-
selves as most unlike God.
36 APHORISMS
121.
Furrows are cut in your heart — then give God
the opportunity to sow there the seeds of grace.
122.
Keep thyself a bruised reed. God will make
thee a polished shaft.
123.
Loneliness among men may lead to self-destruc-
tion, loneliness with God only leads to self -cruci-
fixion.
124.
There can be no true peace with self without
the death of Christ ; no true peace with God with-
out the death of self.
125.
Earth is empty without God, and still more
empty with God . . .
126.
Satan brooks no superior, God has none.
127.
God asks little of men, but always their best.
128.
God gives men the right beginning and assures
them of the right ending if they but do the right
continuing.
129.
God is ready to turn our water into wine, us He
expects to keep it from turning into vinegar.
130.
God sees to it that there be enough inspirers,
if men but see that there be enough inspired.
OF GOD 37
131-
God goes before and ploughs, it is for men to
follow and plant. And the secret of all jar and
discord in life is that men walk with one foot in
the furrow's crest, with the other in its hollow.
The walking is jaunty, and the seed falls into the
wrong place . . .
132.
Of their income God often deprives His children,
but never of their capital.
i33-
The more one knows the less he speaks; the
All-Knowing One is thus the Great Silent One.
134.'
God is silent for centuries — this is His forbear-
ance. He forgets not for a moment — this is His
faithfulness.
135:
God is almighty. He can crush out sin and
rebellion and wickedness in an instant. And if I,
worm that I am, suffer so much from the sight
and presence of wrong about me, how much more
must He who is Holiness itself suffer, at the sight
of sin, rebellion, wickedness? Yet He tolerates
wrong, and the most terrible crimes, not only
against Himself, but even against innocent vic-
tims of lust, greed, pride, selfishness. He has
tolerated the crime of crimes against His only,
well-beloved Son. If He can prevent and does
not, is He doing what is right toward wickedness?
Is He doing His duty therewith, if man can at all
measure God's duty? Is not God as it were,
partaker of wrong by permitting it? . . .
38 APHORISMS
But what if, by permitting wickedness, and at
least for a time winking thereat, and thus, in a
measure, becoming responsible therefor, He
meant to show that there is aught in the Universe
higher even than — Justice ? What if it prove that
Mercy and Love being higher in God's sight than
even Justice, He doeth violence to His own
holiness, and endures wrong, suffers under it,
willing even to be held responsible for it as One
who could crush wrong with a mere nod? What
if this be the true meaning of the otherwise dark
saying that before God Mercy rejoiceth against
Judgment ?
136.
The mystery of Evil? I let it alone, as long as
there is, thank God, no mystery whatever about
goodness.
137-
God does not always hearken, He always hears.
138.
God often shuts every door about us, never the
door above us.
i39-
Can God be moved? Certainly, but only in
proportion to the readiness with which you let
Him move you.
140.
God assures folk that He will fulfil his promises,
but not how.
141.
God never deceives a man. He does not always
undeceive him.
OF GOD 39
142.
God condemns men for what they are. He
punishes them for what they do.
143.
God's justice may be expected to help those
who help themselves. God's love may be trusted
to help those who cannot help themselves.
144.
God knows what we do not know — this is our
consolation. We know not what God knows —
this is our hope.
i45-
Man loves God for what He can receive from
Him. God loves man for what He can give to
him.
146.
Human love lives on what it receives, divine
love on what it gives.
147.
Men look upon the quantity of their sorrow.
God, upon its quality.
148.
Men measure a man's riches by what he has.
God, by what he has had.
149.
Men draw the color-line at black, yellow and
brown. God draws it only at scarlet.
150.
Man is satisfied if he has done good. God is
not satisfied until man has done well.
40 APHORISMS
Man is not satisfied as long as the charity is
only in the heart. God is not satisfied as long as
the charity is only in the hand.
152.
Men measure a gift by its value to the receiver.
God measures it by its value to the giver.
153-
To be wise before men love must act below what
it feels; to be wise before God it must act above
what it feels.
iS4.
When we are light-hearted God lays his burden
upon us, and we become heavy-hearted. After-
ward He gives lightheartedness over that.
I-55-
For the tears of men God has no uniform
bottles, their size is adjusted to the exact amount
of bruising and crushing each may need.
156.
Whenever we have a need for the satisfying
of which we have not the means we may be sure
that it is not real. For what is really needful God
sees to it that it be supplied.
i57.
The common man sees, if at all, only the pres-
ent; the uncommon man sees in the present also
the past. God alone sees it also as the future.
158.
Polished one may be by men, cleansed he must
be by God.
OF GOD 41
159-
Most of men's misery is due as much to per-
version of head as perverseness of heart. The
kindly therefore ask charity for them. But God
sees in perversion of head some perverseness of
heart.
160.
I used to doubt God. Now I only doubt my
knowledge of Him.
x 161.
I used to wonder what use God had for the
wicked. But since I learned that hardly a page
can be printed without the slanting Italics, I no
longer ask that question.
162.
Two things pass my comprehension: God in
His wisdom, man in his folly.
163,
What God does not give man can never gain.
What God does give man can still lose.
. 164.
Every vessel holds that best for which it is
made. Man alone holds God worst.
165.
All are tied to God by elastic tethers. Many
stretch theirs not enough, and fail to obtain much
that is theirs. More stretch theirs too far, and
break them — losing their all.
166.
The one talent we all have from the least to
the greatest, is for slamming the door in the face
42 . APHORISMS
of Heaven-sent messengers when once mayhap
in a decade they do come along to one perchance
in a hundred . . . .
167.
Every one is at first as God made him, then
much worse. At last God has to remake him.
168.
Man's relation to God is that of a funnel.
At the brim the inspiration may be wide enough,
but man lets out as if he received only at the point.
169.
Men treat God as the dog treats his master:
run before, run after him, but have him seldom at
their side.
170.
Love is passion for the creature. It becomes
religion when it is passion for the Creator.
171.
Only that is true love to God which enables us to
love our enemies and pity His.
172.
True love to man comes only after a cruci-
fixion: true love to God, only after a resurrection.
Nearly everything can be handled with the
proper gloves. The love of God shed abroad in
the heart by the Spirit covers the hands with such
gloves.
174.
True love to God brings our hearts nearer to
men, but removes our heads further from them.
OF GOD 43
175.
Hatred of Satan is a part of religion; but the
underpart. Love of God is the upper.
176.
It is a mark of a walk with God when one is
slow to take offence at any and quick to give
offence to many.
177.
True piety praises God even for His judgments :
like the sandal wood, which imparts its fragrance
even to the axe which cuts it down.
178.
Who clings to life has not resigned his own will.
Who courts death has not yet submitted to God's
will.
179-
By doing wrong you become God's debtor;
by suffering wrong you becoma God's creditor.
180.
In prosperity men ask too little of God. In
adversity, too much.
181.
We can oft afford to do in the sight of God what
we can not afford to do in the sight of men. We
can never afford to do in the sight of men what we
cannot in the sight of God.
182.
There are two kinds of law: law and lawlessness
under the name of law. The former is everywhere
an expression of God, the latter is always an
expression of Satan. And it is for men to dis-
cern law from law.
44 APHORISMS
183.
Demons also believe in God, Saints trust Him.
184.
When hot iron is touched it is the heat that is
felt rather than the iron. When the man of God
is blessing it is the spirit of God that gives the
blessing, not the man himself.
185.
One is haunted by the image of the sun for some
time after because of gazing too long thereon.
But when the thought of God follows one where'er
he be, wbate'er he do, it is not because He has
been gazed upon too long.
186.
Do not expect to know God's mind if you know
not your own.
187.
Only he can afford to trust men who trusts God.
To be delivered from all fear we must have one
fear — of God.
189.
To leave joy where'er you go is to be faithful
to man; to find joy where'er you go is to be faith-
ful to God.
190.
To see God in the things He gives you is to have
Him with you. To see God in the things He
takes from you is to have you with God.
OF GOD 45
IQI.
Man must first display his love and then his
holiness. God first displays his holiness and then
his love.
192.
In coming to God the Soul is under the opposite
law as the railway train; which may at times be
late, but must never be too early.
193-
In what they know of God men agree readily
enough. It is in what they know not of God that
I they so disagree.
194.
Man's business is to stay at the centre; God's
to see that the circumference be widened. And
the closer man keeps to the centre, the wider his
circumference.
i9S-
Two things are unchangeable : God's holiness,
Man's sinfulness.
196
The light of the head is cold — mere electric dis-
play. The light in the heart is warm — a burning
fire. The Light of God as mere Light makes
atheists at the start. The Light of God as mere
warmth makes atheists in the end. Only when
the icy holiness of God is recognized, along with
His consuming Love do folk remain poised.
197.
Both God and the world disapprove of discord
in man. But the world is content with mere
rhythm. God requires also harmony.
46 APHORISMS
198.
To gain this world much trust in self is needed.
To gain the next, a little trust in God is enough.
199.
To be happy in the world one must learn to
let go; to be happy in God one must learn to
hold on.
200.
When man finds nothing in the world to satisfy
his heart God is ready for him. When man finds
nothing in his heart to satisfy the world, he is
ready for God.
201.
Deserved praise exalts in man's sight. Unde-
served blame exalts in God's sight.
202.
Man's business is to do the right; God's, to see
that it prevail.
203.
To be at peace with mien we can not afford to
have decided opinions on any thing; to be at
peace with God, we must have decided opinions on
many things.
204.
When man confides his secret unto us we are
restless unless we keep it. When God confides
His secret unto us we are restless unless we
divulge it.
205.
I have love when I feel as God feels. I have
truth when I see as God sees. I have not yet
justice when I judge as God judges.
OF GOD 47
206. l
In three things men can afford to be unlike God :
tho' God never hopes, man must ever hope; tho'
God does not forever love, man must ever love;
tho' God must sometimes judge, man must never
judge.
207.
The love that can be repaid is more acceptable
than that which cannot be repaid. Hence divine
love finds less response than human love.
208.
What cannot be helped men endure, and this
they have in common with the beast ; what might
be helped men bear, and this is peculiar to them-
selves ; only what ought to be helped men forbear,
and this they have in common with God.
209.
The carnal man lives unto self; the moral man
may live also unto others ; the spiritual man lives
only unto God.
210.
The fool's problem is solved when he is satisfied
with himself; the wise man's problem is not
solved till he is satisfied with God.
211.
The freest man is he who is made a captive of
God and is then captivated by God.
212.
Two things hide the stars: the clouds of the
night, the light of the day. Two things hide God :
deep adversity, high prosperity.
48 APHORISMS
213.
A joke is the lowest kind of wit because God
never jokes.
214.
Atheism also has its hell for those it damns;
only it is of ice instead of fire.
215.
Some things we know to be for God's glory —
these we must do. Some things we know to be
not for God's glory — these we must not do. Some
things are apparently indifferent and make neither
for nor against God's glory — these we may do,
but only after praying that these also prove unto
God's glory.
216.
I read of a man who was in search of information
about Napoleon. He went to a library, and looked
at the card catalogue. At " Napoleon" he was
told to look under "Bonaparte." At "Bonaparte"
he was told to look under 'Buonaparte." At
"Buonaparte" he was told to look under 'French
Revolution.' Under "French Revolution" he was
told to look under "France." Under "France" he
was told to look under "History." When he at
last got to "History," he had the satisfaction of
seeing that here, at least he would not have to
go to something else; for here were indeed the
countries arranged alphabetically. Here were
America, Austria, Brazil, Denmark, England and
— France? No. France by some mistake was mis-
placed into another part of the catalogue, and the
inquirer after Napoleon had at last to ask an at-
tendant for the book he desired. This he at last
OF GOD 49
got in a fraction of the time it took him to look
in the catalogue.
The man was of course much vexed at the an-
noyance caused by what he branded as stupidity
on the part of the library authorities. Being
rather good-natured, he after a while laughed at
the incident as he told it to others. But being also
somewhat of a philosopher he reflected a little on
the matter, and found soon that, whether there be
here tragedy or comedy, most men are acting out
the same occurrence in their own lives, where,
however, whatever else it may be, comedy it
surely is not.
Here is a man running, running very hard,
running for a train. He catches his train as it is
just rolling out of the station; is dragged along a
little, as the train goes already rather fast; the
kind brakeman helps him in, and at last he is
seated in the car, out of breath, all in perspiration.
Took risk of heart disease in running, takes risk
of pneumonia now in sitting.
"Well, friend, glad to see you have caught your
train. What were you running for so?
"O, I wished to get home, of course!"
"And what will you do when you get home?"
"Eat my supper and get rested from my day's
work."
' 'And what when rested from your day's work?"
"Why, I shall be able to work to-morrow, of
course!"
"O, I see; but what do you work for to-morrow,
please?"
"Why, to earn a living, of course."
"Ah, I understand. But may I ask, if I be not
deemed intrusive, just what is it that you are
— living for?"
50 APHORISMS
And the man is rather nonplussed.
You, dear reader, are not, of course, so foolish
as to run for trains and incur heart disease by
running and pneumonia by sitting. You take
things more coolly; you are calmly arranging
your tie before the glass. Yes, it is excellent, that
tie, I mean; and well tied it surely is; but pray
tell me, what are you tying that tie for?
"O, to be dressed, to be sure."
' 'And what do you wish to be dressed for, pray ?"
"To keep warm, of course, and to appear well.'"
"Exactly; but what are you so anxious to keep
warm for?"
"Why — don't you see? — to keep well."
"That is so, stupid that I am ; but, if you please,
just what is it that you wish to keep well for?"
"You don't mean to mock me; why, I strive to
keep well, because — because I wish to live."
"0, I see, but just what is it that you are so
anxious to live for?"
And here also the answer is not so ready.
Those library officials were, after all, only hu-
man. When they at last got to France, they for-
got to put it in the right place; and, when most of
us get to our France, we are apt to forget to put it
in the right place, too.
"What is the chief end of man?" was the first
question in the stern old catechism; and the
equally stern answer was, "Man's chief end is to
glorify God, and enjoy Him forever." Glorify
God, and enjoy God, and forever — rather strange
words in these days; but the Bible standard still
is, "Whether therefore ye eat or drink, or whatso-
ever ye do do all to the glory of God" ALL.
OF GOD 51
217.
The great secret of walking in white with God
is not to stagger at His exceeding great promises.
Stagger not at a walk as the Master walked;
we are exhorted thereto; nor at a purity as He
is pure ; it is expected of us ; nor at perf ectness as
the Father is perfect; it is commanded us; nor
at being filled with the Spirit ; it is enjoined upon us.
If the Master saith, "All things are possible
to him that believeth," believe it; if He assures
that thou shalt do even greater works than His
own, believe that too. If the Spirit saith, "All
things are yours," stagger neither at this. If
thou find it writ, " Whoso is begotten of God
doeth no sin, because his seed abideth in him,
and he cannot sin, because he is begotten of God,"
believe it, because " whatsoever is not of faith
is sin."
You may not understand this; it matters
naught; believe it. You may not see this;
it matters not; believe it. You may not feel
this; no matter; believe it. For without faith
it is impossible to please God. Christian is to
be born by faith, live by faith, walk by faith.
The method of the children of this age is, I
see; therefore I believe. The method for the
children of the age to come is, Believe, and thou
shalt see. The blessing of the risen Lord is pro-
nounced not upon him who hath believed because
he hath seen, but upon him who hath believed
even though he hath not seen. And to the ques-
tion, " What must we do that we may work
the works of God? " the answer comes, " This is
the work of God that ye put your trust in Him
whom He hath sent."
52 APHORISMS
Distrust your friends: the Lord Himself
trusted Himself to no man, for that He knew
what was in man. Distrust your own self; the
heart of man is desperately sick, and deceitful
above all things. Distrust your own senses, if
need be; these with all else that is visible shall
pass away; but do not distrust the word of Him
who hath said, " Heaven and earth shall pass
away, but my words shall not pass away."
218.
The silence of God is Christian's most perplex-
ing and hence sorest trial. When in this valley,
one easily believes that the great God hath
turned His face away for aye. There then remains
only the consolation that He was silent also
to the Syrophenician woman, and called her even
dog. Yet the cry of her heart was answered the
very next moment. Not easily understood is
Christian's God; and one may as well accept
Him with all His ways past finding out though
they be ; and keep on still — trusting. ' ' Impossible
it is to please Him without — trust" ....
219.
The main thing is to be at all times sober, and
above all — true. When the great, good yet
Holy God does give a stunning blow, let us be
manly about it, and honestly own that His
hand it was that smote, and not some interloper's,
while the Great God Himself was on His vacation
or asleep. And neither must we stultify ourselves,
and perchance even mock Him, and cast away
OF GOD 53
both divine dictionary and human by calling a
stunning blow a love pat from Father's hand.
Much foolish chatter there is hereabout in
Christendom.
220.
When Peter found himself denying his Lord,
or convicted of dissembling, he hardly turned his
face upward with a " Well, in everything give
thanks! " even though there is a time when one
can be thankful for even sin. And when Paul
found at last his thrice uttered prayer unanswered,
he hardly forthwith clapped his hands in joy
with: " Well, rejoice alway! "
221.
Beware then against working oneself up into
a pitch of sanctified, or rather sanctimonious
stoicism, the strength in the mere flesh and wor-
ship of will, where it smacks much of that notorious
(anti) " Christian Science " with its ostrich
behavior toward disease and pain. No, the God
of sober Christian is first of all the God of Truth ;
of love and mercy only afterwards ....
222.
God has a way of afflicting folk rather un-
expectedly when certain prayer is being offered
for their welfare. Perhaps this, is what they need
first: a pruning away of all mere wood; a cutting
of all the tendrils that hold them to this life, a
throwing out of the ballast that hinders the rise
heavenward. " Whom the Lord loveth He
chasteneth."
223.
" Dost thou curse thy fate for thy misfortune?
54 APHORISMS
But where stands it writ that thou shalt be happy ? ' '
This the mature author who finds it among his
youthful doings, marks worthless. Even apart
from reasons of style, La Rochefoucault's "We
all have sufficient strength for enduring the mis-
fortunes of — others " would alone suffice to bid
one discard such heartless bit of exhortation. But
the thought that the Great God, at least in this
dispensation not of works but of grace, hath
nowhere pledged Himself to give man happiness:
which means only things as you would have them
— is to be held on to. And if commonplace it be,
it is but too often forgot : like much else that we
constantly fail to see because it is so much in
our sight.
223a.
True piety praises God even for His judgments:
like the sandal wood, which imparts its fragrance
even to the axe that cuts it down.
III.
LETTERS AND ART.
224.
The highest criticism — must it be occupied more
with the pointing out of defects than of merits,
more of blemishes than of beauties? I answer
'Yes' but only for to-day; in nowise for all the
days.
The living room has its beauties, and even the
death chamber hath its beauties. But by no
manner of even the saccharinest charity can real
beauty be evolved out of the sick chamber. That
ever remains esthetically only a mere endurability.
Clean and sweet it may be kept, but ever with
reminder of carbolic acid, if not chlorides of lime,
or even sulphur itself. Wise physician, faithful
nurse, even gentle patient himself, are here of but
little .avail ; sick-chamber ever remains what it is,
a mere aspiration toward estheticity, a bare hope,
too oft, alas! a beclouded hope for yet better
things
225.
Now our age is essentially a sickly age, in Letters
and Art even a sick age. And the highest criticism
simply takes due note of that mournful fact ; and
its tone is, of necessity, not that of the athlete
joying in the exuberance of health and beauty,
but rather that of the bland physician with his
pellet and instrument case, that of the cheery
nurse with her bottle and spoon
56 APHORISMS
226.
But this rather undesirable attitude of the high-
est criticism applies only to the smaller half on
one side of the line, not to the larger half on the
other side. The advent of the Christ into the
visible Universe not only rearranged the map of
the world whose things pertain unto heaven, but
it also erected a most revolutionary standard for
all the things pertaining unto earth ; and little as
it may appear on the surface, the advent of the
Lord Christ established among other things also
a new era of Criticism in Letters and Art.
227.
For at night the stars do indeed differ in glory :
There is Sirius and Procyon, Vega and Arcturus,
Capella and Aldebaran; Rigel and Betelgeuse;
these shine with a magnitude of their own, and
are in the first rank. Then there is Arided in the
Cross, and the Dipper Stars in the Bear; these,
with others, shine in the second. There are still
others in the third, fourth, down even to the sixth
rank, still discernible to the naked eye. But once
let the sun rise, and the sixth, and the fifth, and
the second, and the first magnitudes, yea, even
Jupiter and Venus themselves, forthwith pale into
uniform vanishing, with utter disregard of their
respective claims as to brilliancy in relation to one
another. Now in the pre-Christian night, Homer
and Plato, Aeschylus and Demosthenes, Herodo-
tus and Thucydides, Virgil and Cicero, Terence
and Livy, Tacitus and Aurelius, are indeed stars
of the first magnitude, and right nobly do these
fulfil their part in giving light to the darkness
about them.
LETTERS AND ART 57
228.
Looking for defects here is ungracious indeed.
These have faithfully held to the task assigned
them, and the critic can well joy in the cheery, as
well as chivalrous task of pointing out their honest
work, their starry size. For the so-called classics,
therefore, the highest criticism has only one voice :
praise where praise can be given; silence, where
praise must be withheld.
229.
But with the rising of the Sun of Righteousness
with healing in His wings, an Eternal standard is
erected; an Everlasting Gospel is proclaimed, to
which all that lives in sight thereof is henceforth
bidden rather sternly at the peril of its life to
conform, and take the consequence if conform it
does not. And were modern Letters and Art to
hold to mere Letters and Art, it were indeed well
with them. But far other is the case. For Homer
and Virgil never pretend to be aught more than
poets; Aeschylus and Terence are only drama-
tists; Plato was a mere philosopher; Herodotus
a mere historian. Each of these accepted the
Universe and its order as he found it. None of
these undertook to turn Universe back in its course
in order to make^ it keep time with their own
pocket time-pieces. But Shelley is not a mere
singer; Emerson is not a mere plier of needle and
thread, a stitcher together of aphorisms into
"Essays." Lessing is not a mere critic; Arnold is
not a mere elevator lifter in the coal-mine ; Goethe
is not a mere Giant of a Jack of all literary trades.
Even our own impotent piece of genialty is not
content to remain a mere teller-forth of his endless
58 APHORISMS
tales. Each of these in his own way attempts with
rather high pretense to be a guide of the blind,
a teacher in Israel, a world reformer, a new Joshua
crying unto the Sun, ''Stand thou still upon
Gibeon;" and unto the Moon, "Be thou silent
over Aijalon's Valley," till Universe hath reversed
its course at my bidding, and hath at last moored
itself at its berth of my assigning.
230.
Forsaking as these do the realm assigned them
as unquestionably theirs in the elaboration of
essays, aphorisms and diverse rhythmic lines, and
betaking themselves to prophesying, at times
even in the name of the Most High, they forthwith
challenge the highest criticism to look into their
lordly pretensions; and need I say, that with the
standard once for all set up by Him who is Truth
Incarnate, short work is readily made with all
such. Tenderly, but firmly, they are all shoved
back into the naught whence they came : Gently,
but emphatically, they are told: Friends, in the
harmless realm of rhythm, cleverness and bril-
liancy, frolic indeed at your heart's content; but
as to this trespassing of yours into the domain
divine of teaching Truth apart from Him who is
the Truth — thus far shall ye go, but no farther. . .
231.
Now hardly a modern artist but he is a gigantic
trespasser upon a domain not his, and in a manner,
moreover, which can only end in a rather uncere-
monious hustling out. And what highest criticism
is doing is the giving of notice to Rousseau and
Voltaire ; to Spinoza and Spencer ; to Goethe and
LETTERS AND ART 59
Lessing; to Shelley and Kant; to Tennyson and
Browning; to Emerson and Carlyle; to Ruskin
and Arnold; to Hugo and Tolstoy, that even for
such trespassers upon unlawful domain there is
unceremonious hustling off in store. This is,
indeed, doing a rather disagreeable piece of police
work under the orders of — Truth. And though
the task of serving as Truth's Policeman is, at
best, a thankless one, it is something to be even
this, if only against these veritable field-marshals
in the Empire of Error
232. ;
Genius is talent concentrated. Talent is genius
diluted.
2.33-
Everyone may have a flash of genius once a
year. The man of genius husbands these rare oc-
casions, focussing them in due time upon the one
great occasion.
234.
Genius is like the cask at the top of a hill : with
but gentle push rolls of itself. Talent is like the
load on the roadway: will not forward unless
dragged.
235-
Talent may be buried in a napkin ; genius cannot
be choked under a mountain.
236.
Can he write in a palace as well as in a hovel?
Then he has genius. Can he write better? Then
he has only talent.
60 APHORISMS
237.
The half genius makes the new discovery. The
whole genius invents also the method for making
it effectual.
238.
Talent is only a tool, the genius is in rightly
using it.
239-
The genius is the man of talent ; only he makes
ten therewith.
240.
The genius is the man not of one talent but of
several; only he is like the Pullman train, which
consists of separate coaches, but vestibuled to-
gether.
241.
The genius is the man of exceptivity. The man
of talent knows when to apply the rule, the man
of genius, when to make the exception.
242.
Talent uses opportunities; genius makes them.
243-
The man of talent can oft be a leader, the man
of genius will not always be a guide , oft only a
guide-post.
244.
A man's talent is as often his spiritual failure as
his temporal success.
245-
Even the small talent becomes great with much
use; even the great talent becomes small with a
little abuse.
LETTERS AND ART 6 1
246.
Every man of talent is a kind of coal mine with
the decision for him whether it shall send forth
warmth and light, or only soot and smoke.
247.
Most men are mere tendencies all their lives;
it is the mark of a man of genius that he is an ac-
complished fact from the moment he is born.
248
Of two men dressed alike a slight tip of the hat
oft determines the difference in their station of
life. And the difference between the clever
writer and the man of genius is chiefly in the tip
of the hat.
249.
That is a man's passion which he cannot let
alone; that is a man's genius which lets not him
alone.
250.
The man of Wit emits only sparks, a genius
must emit flashes. Of sparks even many make a
poor light, of flashes even one may light up the
path.
251.
To do great things with the same ease as small
things, to do small things with the same care as
great things — this is genius.
252.
Genius is common sense in full dress.
253-
Genius the capacity for taking pains? But
folk take as much pains to make themselves
62 APHORISMS
miserable as to make themselves happy. Genius
is the capacity for taking the right pains.
254-
An axiom is indefinable truth; the genius is the
axiomatic, indefinable man.
255-
That is genius which does naturally and easily
what talent does acquiredly and laboriously.
256.
No true artist can b2 a bad man; unfortunately
the bad man speedily undoes the artist.
257.
A gentleman will not clear at a bound what
he can traverse by a walk. The artist must not
traverse by a walk what he can clear at a bound.
Is the artist then not a gentleman? Yes, indeed,
but he is allowed to bound because he is —
chased.
258.
In every art there is what any one may attain
to — this makes the craftsman. In every art
there is what he alone can attain to — this makes
the artist.
259-
The tailor makes the garment out of the whole
cloth; the artist, even out of fragments.
260.
The artist builds a house for his thoughts;
the bungler, a tomb.
LETTERS AND ART 63
261.
The artist must be like the fire-fly; which no
sooner spreads its wings than it glows.
262.
It is for the artist to express himself first truly
and then beautifully. It is for the audience to
receive it first reverently and then lovingly.
263.
Nature is art displayed. Art is Nature re-
vealed.
264.
The Creation of beauty must indeed begin
in passion, it can continue only in repose, it is
completed only in ease.
265.
Edgar Allen Poe gives somewhere a dismally
mechanical account of how ''The Raven" came
to be " constructed. It was duly and orderly
joined, dove-tailed and cemented together. In
that account the foundation is laid before the
reader's eye, with plumbline, drill, mortar, and
the rest ; and the very clink of the iron against the
stone is heard. Yonder is meanwhile put to-
gether the upper portion; when lo, at the push of a
button a crane turns, and the huge fabric is seen
to swing and roll gracefully toward the founda-
tion, and settle at last placidly but firmly thereon.
The several highly wrought yore, Leonore, o'er,
door, more, are at last safely lodged on that solid
masonry of — Nevermore.
266.
Now I take the Raven to be a true poem, and
64 APHORISMS
therefore born in Poe's soul and nursed from his
breast, and writ with the life blood of his heart,
rather than laboriously ground out through his
mechanical intellect. I take therefore the poet's
account thereof to be an afterthought: just
as Schiller's Letters on Don Carlos, which are
parallel with this account of the Raven, are a
production of the metaphysical professor Herr
von Schiller, whereas Don Carlos itself is the
work of the poet Friedrich Schiller. For a work
of genius comes ever forth, like Minerva from
Jupiter's head, fully armed. In minor details it
may indeed bear a touch here, a touch there;
but when forth it comes, it is already fused,
melted.
267.
In fact the difference between Talent and
Genius is here: Talent can build a machine
such as Cincinnati is reported to have: where a
live hog is put in at one end, and out comes a
sausage at the other. While Genius merely
unfolds in fulness what has ever been there in
embryo : like the plumtree at my window. It will
take some months to make them visible, but the
plums are already in the tree, and visible enough
to the eye sufficiently microscopic.
268.
In composition labor and toil can improve only
the form, not the thought itself. The thought
is the soul, which ever remains a unit, with naught
to be added thereto; the form is the flesh, the
tabernacle large or small, for the thought to
dwell in. No great work is indeed ever done
without toil, but it is not the thought that requires
LETTERS AND ART 65
the pains. To a noble heart the noble thought
comes as the friend to the feast — uninvited.
It is the expression that is oft the stranger, and
needs to be coaxed.
269.
The meatman when selling the juicy steak
first cuts off the whole slice for which he charges
full weight. He then proceeds to cut off the bone
and the fat, and delivers to his customer some half
of what he paid for; and both buyer and seller
are content. This is the relation between or-
dinary discourse and Aphorism.
The aphorism is the clear, juicy meat, ready to
eat, with the trimmings of the continuous dis-
course cast away, without however any price
being set upon them.
270.
The brilliant remark- in consecutive discourse —
what is it but the lightning flash in the natural
course of the storm, a mere accompaniment, an
incident? The great aphorism is the shining star.
271.
I do not complain of the star-lit sky that its
suns are not in apparent orderly array. I am too
content with the assurance that I am dealing
here with immense worlds, immense lights,
fires . . .
272.
I have a friend who oft remarks at some
striking thought, "But this is not original!"
She has no farm of her own, and buys her butter.
66 APHORISMS
But I never heard her ask the dealer whether he is
raising his own cows ...
273-
Where did I get my thought? Ah, friend, if
you could only tell me from what ox I got my
flesh!
274.
Have others said before me what I say here?
Then so much the better for them as well as for me.
275-
Originality I take to be one of those mischievous
expressions which like self-respect, liberty, progress,
refinement, are the brooms in the hands of the
dwellers in the sandy desert wherewith they raise
a dust storm of their own. And its use becomes
a kind of passport by which every third, fifth,
tenth grade of intellect attests itself as a denizen
of cloud and mist land. A discussion about
originality makes memorable at least one of the
otherwise worthless doings of a rather loud popular
literary wag. Said he to an elaborately discours-
ing bishop: "Sir, I have a book at home which
contains ever}^ word of your discourse." The
astounded prelate vehemently denies plagiarism,
and demands that the remarkable book be forth-
with produced. The book is produced, and the
charge proves true; the book is the— Diction-
ary . . .
276.
As long as the axe which the prophet made to
float, and the penny with which the Lord con-
founded the Pharisees, were borrowed, you can
safely ignore the taunt, "But this is not origin-
LETTERS AND ART 67
al!" The maker of candles — must he be ever
raising his own tallow?
277.
A thought is certainly mine if old to me, and
assent makes it mine even if new to me.
278.
Who seeks to say what is new will surely repeat
what is old. But who earnestly reaffirms the old
can hardly help saying aught new.
279.
The original man is the most uncommon man.
But what makes him original is that he has most
in common with men.
280.
The great writer borrows when he reads,
but returns it when he writes. The small writer
also borrows when he reads, but merely turns it
when he writes.
281.
The great writer also borrows when he reads;
but he borrows the gold in the bullion and returns
it as coin ; the small writer borrows the copper and
does not return it even as pennies.
282.
Ideas taken from others are like ice-cream best
taken cold ; and like ice-cream should become part
of our blood only on being raised to its tempera-
ture.
68 APHORISMS
283.
All that is noble has been thought before.
All that is good has been said before. But every
age has its own need of rethinking the noble, of
resaying the good ; and every individual stands in
need of redoing it for himself. Blessed he who
so doeth; for only by thinking it for himself
can he resay it unto others ; and thus the one be-
comes the spokesman of the many; the individual,
of the age.
284.
In addition to the beauty common to all ages
every age has beauties of its own. Homer's epi-
thets so beautiful to the Greeks have lost much of
their beauty to us. While the saying, "What are
churches but the white poles of the trolley lines
to tell us that here the Holy Spirit regularly stops,
and the chariot of heaven is best boarded there ?"
has a beauty of its own to be perceived only in
trolley days . . .
285.
Generations change as well as rulers. Hence
the occasional need of restamping truth as well as
coin.
286.
Every generation is ere long sure to fall into
the errors of its predecessors; and must ere long
relearn the old Truth for itself.
287.
Two writers are great: who expresses mankind's
wisdom after making it his own by his reflection ;
who expresses his own wisdom to become in time
mankind's by their reflection.
LETTERS AND ART 69
That is the great saying which has for its body
the wisdom of many; for its dress the wit of one.
289.
That author does most for the reader who is to
him what the wall is to the match: which by
rubbing against it strikes fire.
290.
To do much for me the author should make me
think little of himself; to do more, he must make
me think still less of myself.
291.
A truth is best stated if the bearer is left with
the feeling that he could have told it equally well.
292.
A thought like a river is then most impressive
when its depth is transparent.
293-
The great writer is he who has aught to say over
the heads of his hearers. His wisdom must be
shown in saying it down to the heads of his hearers.
294.
The small writer seeks to cover his pages with
lightning; the great writer, with light.
295-
The small writer is busy with the novelties of the
day; the great writer, with the antiquities of the
ages.
296.
The small writer may have much extension in
space; the great writer has it also in time.
70 APHORISMS
297.
The small writer is content with a market if
only it be large; the great writer is satisfied only
with an audience, even though small.
298.
The small writer gives his readers what they
wish; the great writer, what they want.
299.
Great writers imitate others when young;
small writers also imitate others when young, but
they in addition imitate themselves when old.
300.
The great writer is also a fisherman; but one
who can afford to wait for the fish to come to
him from the lake even while he himself sits on
the mount.
301.
The great writer can afford to speak of common
things, but he must tell them in an uncommon,
noble way. Wordsworth told of common things
in a common way and thus remained the great
commonplace. Whitman told of common things
in a common but vulgar way and so remained the
great Boor.
302.
■To do common things in an uncommon way is
a mark of derangement. To speak of common
things in an uncommon, noble way is the mark of
genius. It is thus that each writer or speaker has
his style, which stamps the man. The great
writer is thus the man with the style, the noble
stvle.
LETTERS AND ART 7 1
303-
vStyle is to the book what the Smile is to the
look.
3°4-
Only he can express the expressible who has
felt the inexpressible.
305-
The merely brilliant thought captivates, the
great thought holds.
306. ;
The merely brilliant thought, like a mere curi-
osity, loses its force after the first acquaintance;
the great thought, like a friend, grows upon
further acquaintance.
307-
The final difference between writers is mainly in
the color of their ink : the many write in black; the
chosen few in red.
309-
That is true writing where life goes forth from
you in writing it. That is great writing where life
goes into you while reading it.
310.
Always write with your inkstand full, but with
some red in the ink. Always use a steel pen, but
with a golden point and a feathered handle.
3ii-
The difference between the mere writer and the
man of Letters is solely in dignity: the one parts
with his thoughts for gold; the other with his
gold for thoughts.
72 APHORISMS
312.
The difference between the classic writer and
the mere scribe is that where both use the world
folks y the classic writer has ear enough to omit
thes.
It is a vice in commerce to give the picture to
sell the frame. It is a vice in Letters to say aught
just to bring in the fine phrase.
314.
A great vice in art: to paint the flame for the
sake of the furnace.
3iS :
A great mistake: to write with diluted ink.
316.
"He has exhausted his subject!" No, only the
reader.
3i7.
The aphorist is the one who makes little
phrases say great things.
318.
The aphorist should be so charged with cos-
mic dust that every time he strikes earth a meteor
should flash out.
3i9-
The aphorism can afford to have, like the
comet, a small head; but must also, like the comet,
have a wide sweep in the tail.
320.
Even at its best the essay is only expanded
aphorism. It is the mark of the great aphorism
that it is a condensed essay.
LETTERS AND ART 73
321.
The essayist takes a text for his essay ; the apho
rist makes his text the essay.
322.
It is a mark of every genuine thought or feeling
that it lives even after being out of sight ; like the
grain of wheat which bringeth forth much fruit
after it is buried.
323-
One of the marks of the great thought is that
if for you it will flash upon you like the lightning
out of the cloud. If not for you, all you see is the
cloud.
324.
The essence of a great thought is that it give
the reader what he already has. Only it must
have hitherto remained a secret between writer
and reader. The reader knows when he reads
that the thought is his also, the writer only knows
as he writes that some soul somewhere at some
time shall also share with him his truth.
325-
The ocean is an assemblage of drops.
326.
The ocean may be seen in a drop ; the world, in a
maxim.
327.
The shorter the word the longer its reach; the
weightier the word the easier it floats.
328.
Crumbs do not make a loaf, but they can be
as nourishing.
74 APHORISMS
3 2 9-
The vulgar writer pleases the herd ; the mediocre
one pleases the mass ; the great writer pleases a set,
though understood by only one here and there.
330-
The great writer first weighs his words, and
then counts them.
331-
In youth we create, in maturity we judge.
He is therefore the great writer who in youth has
the judgment of age; in old age the creativeness of
youth.
332-
Every great book makes a few wise men
wiser, many fools more foolish, the rest it leaves
about where they were.
333-
It is the mark of a great reader that he finds
in the book more than is put therein.
334-
Men seldom put forth into writing all that in
them is, unless mayhap in spontaneous letters.
And as only the whole represents the man — all
else having a good chance of effectually misrep-
resenting him — pen and ink do seldom more than
just falling short of misrepresenting him. Is the
great writer then doomed to be forever misunder-
stood? There yet remains the reader: whose part
it ever must be to draw forth by his insight and
love what is indeed before him, but in cypher as it
were, and betwixt the lines. The reader must
thus receive a writing from a friend — and the
LETTERS AND ART 75
great writer is the reader's friend indeed — as if
writ in invisible ink to which he is to apply the
proper agent to bring it into view. But while for
bringing out the hidden ink the application of
an acid is needful, for bringing out the hidden
thought the application of a sugar is enough.
335-
The blotting of the ink is due as likely to the
poverty of the paper and to the vileness of the
pen as to the wateriness of the ink.
336.
Every book has at least two readers for neither
of whom it is writ : The typesetter who reads it
only to spell it out again; the proofreader who
reads it only to find flaws therein. Every great
soul has at least two followers neither of whom he
profits: the thoughtless admirer and the equally
thoughtless detractor.
337-
To reject earnest work merely because it does
not interest or appeal to you, is not yet a good
reason, unless in the realm of anarchy : where his
own likes are everyone's law unto himself, and
his own will everyone would fain impose as law
upon others. To be rational, you must show that
it rationally does not interest or appeal to you.
338.
With healthy folk the mere fact that what sets
up as a work of art does not appeal to them at once
justifies their dislike thereof: health of spirit
being the final standard here as elsewhere.
But who are the healthy? Well, first, not the
inmates of hospital, asylum or prison; second,
76 APHORISMS
those equipped to go to these and minister unto
them, as nurse, physician, comforter.
339-
The author should remember that to weigh gold
the scales need not be gold themselves. The critic
should remember that even to weigh dross the
scales must be exact.
34o.
Holding the book upside down perverts not its
sense, but yours.
34i.
A paradox is always true as seen by the writer.
It is the art of expression to make its truth seen
also by the reader.
342.
"I see nothing in this particular thought!"
And neither, friend, do I see much in .the moun-
tain till I travel toward it.
343-
Of insects give me the bee : which when sting
it must, does it only at the cost of its life.
344-
The wolf resembles a shepherd dog more than
any other.
345-
Critics were meant to be like bees: choosing
their honey from even homely flowers; they are
apt to be wasps ; producing neither the sweet nor
the useful, but ever ready to sting.
346.
The genius quarrels with the critic because he
is not a genius himself. But the gold lock may
LETTERS AND ART 77
yet be opened by an iron key. The critic becomes
contemptible only when in relation to the genius
he deems himself a gold key opening an iron lock.
347-
The ass is not the wiser for being loaded with
books.
348.
There is a certain Nemesis in the fact that it is
asses' milk that proves such a restorative to many
an ailing man of letters.
349-
Fiction, if it deceive not the reader, is bad art ;
if it deceive the reader, it is bad morals.
35o-
Many profound remarks have been made over
the fact that Socrates wrote no book. But the
matter is quite simple: he had no home to
write in.
35* f
The book that only makes you forget yourself
is only fit to make its author forgotten.
352.
Obscurity may not always be a sign of lack of
sense on the part of the writer in writing it. It is
always a sign of lack of sense on the part of the
reader in reading it.
353-
Clearness is not always a sign of depth; ob-
scurity is never so.
354-
Who shall say that the preservation of a book,
however mean, is not as much a matter of Provi-
78 APHORISMS
dence as the number of sparrows that shall fall
to the ground, or the number of the hairs upon
the heads of men, none of which are without the
Father's ken? Some useful and loveable folk are
oft cut off in their prime, while many a helpless,
burdensome, and even loathsome personage is
kept lingering on long after old age. And as these
lives are surely not unordained, who shall say that
the preservation of, say, Manetho's poems, rather
than of Livy's missing books, is not equally —
ordained?
355-
Poetry is the language of heavenly childhood,
prose the speech of earthly manhood. Verse is
the utterance of heavenly childhood lost and
earthly manhood unattained.
356.
Literature also has its drones, its uselessnesses,
its idle bellies : the metaphysician, the philosopher
of history, science; the social reformer, the writer
of fiction (disguise for lying), drama. These have
only one use, that of the naval target at sea : to be
fired at for practice and then knocked down. . . .
357-
Poetry was meant to be Truth in its Sunday
clothes. It has become Fiction in stage dress.
358.
The highest poetry is only truth clad in beauty.
359-
Nothing is poetry that is not dream or vision.
But it must be the dream of a wise man, the vision
of a good man.
LETTERS AND ART 79
360.
The poet is the whole of the writer; the rest is
merely the cyclopedia maker, if not the downright
mischief maker.
361.
Two great faults in a poet : to have words too
grand for his matter; to have words not as grand
as his matter.
362.
The final value of every book is in its prologue
left unwritten by the author, in the epilogue acted
out by the reader.
363.
The distance words will travel depends first
upon the depth from which they have come, and
then upon the depth to which they go.
364.
The small writer writes to make others know;
the great writer, only to become known: the one
writes for his inferiors; the other, for his equals.
365.
The abundance of pictorial illustration illus-
trates only the decay of Imagination.
366.
The aphorism is herein like the beautiful wo-
man ; its charm is ever enhanced by its becoming
dress.
367-
Where fullness of heart leads a critic to look at
a small writer thro' magnifying glasses, his empti-
ness of head is likely to lead him to look at a great
writer thro' diminishing glasses.
8o APHORISMS
368.
When literature becomes largely a matter of
style, and art of technique, it is already a period
of darkness. Fireworks are best displayed at
night.
369-
Profitable reading must be the result of your
emptiness; profitable writing, of his fullness.
37o-
Style is the man ; but as each man is a separate
indefinability, style is indefinable. Its only char-
acteristic is that which makes it readable or un-
readable.
37i-
The average reader's dislike for aphoristic
writing is only a translation into terms of taste
of the German's wish at his glass of beer : ' 'Would
that my throat were a mile long!"
372.
The critic should remember that the shade of
the ink depends also on the kind of pen used.
373-
The greatest men write nothing. The smallest
men write much; only they, too, write nothing.
374.
The rhetorician polishes his phrase; the artist
his thought.
375-
Every other weapon is fondly wielded. The
pen alone has not its wielder's love. The man of
letters loves the thought before writing, the satis-
faction after writing ; but all between is drudgery.
LETTERS AND ART 8 1
376.
The golden fruit, the green leaf, the graceful
branches, the solid trunk, are seen of all and duly
admired and praised. But the sustaining roots —
who heeds them? ....
I was about to discard this as a perhaps com-
monplace observation, when I remembered that
after all many a root is not only heeded but even
diligently sought out and dug up ; but it is by the
commercial soul and for gain
377-
Dismiss nothing as a truism until you have ex-
hausted its truth.
378.
Few men are good judges of their own work,
often overestimating it because of their own ig-
norance, and underestimating it because of the
ignorance of others.
379.
Let the author beware how he casts away what
he thinks he has outgrown. The garment now
too small for thee may yet be large enough for one
who has not yet attained to thy size. He does
well with his book who does therewith what the
Great God does with His. In the same meadow
the ox is permitted to find his grass, the stork his
lizard, the bee its honey, and man his flower.
380.
Your cherished thought so new to yourself may
be only commonplace to others ; and even to-day's
truth may be only to-morrow's truism. This may
well humble, but need not discourage. You once
had the ambition to write only for the best, the
82 APHORISMS
few. But it turns out that the best in one is after
all what he has in common with the many. And
the commonplace is only a truth of which we have
become weary.
Much of his earlier work oft strikes the mature
author as rather trite. But. even those sayings
that now may be striking even to the maturest —
are not they too commonplace to the one mind
that is superior to all these? And to the spiritual
being of a higher order, to say nothing of the
Great God Himself, all our profoundest thoughts
are only commonplaces of the tamest sort; since
the deepest thought of man can accomplish no
more than to get a peep now and then into what
is to us indeed God's mysteries, but to Him His
everlasting open verity. So that the fresh and
the trite, the profound and the tame, the original
and the commonplace, are they not after all mere
matters of degree?
381. _
Those New England Attics where all manner
of apparently useless lore is so carefully stored
away for decades — I used to laugh at the foolish-
ness of those old-fashioned New England house-
keepers. I now have profound respect for these
same old-fashioned New England dames with their
mixed multitudes of attics.
382.
There are ever two reasons for rejecting what
is set up as a work of art: first, that it is not art;
second, that if art it is, it is unworthily employed.
383.
Profitable reading must be the result of your
emptiness, Profitable writing must be the result
of his fullness.
LETTERS AND ART 83
384.
To prune the sentence to make it stronger can
be done safely only by the master hand. He
trimmed the vine to let in the sun. It only with-
ered the grapes.
385.
The aphorism is to the essay what the bit of
landscape seen thro' a small opening is to the
whole. It brings out the beauty of this particu-
lar bit hitherto lost in the whole.
386.
That author does most for the reader who is
to him what the wall is to the match : which by
rubbing against it strikes fire.
387.
The merely brilliant thought captivates; the
great thought holds.
388.
The small book first intoxicates the reader and
then fails to sober him. The great book first
sobers the reader, and then keeps him sober.
389.
Who translates another without wronging him
wrongs himself by being only a translator.
39o.
It needs much talent to write new maxims, and
quite as much to practice the old.
39i-
The merely brilliant thought is writ with the
sweat of the brow; the profound thought is writ
with the blood of the heart.
84 APHORISMS
392.
Who can write a novel may be a great man.
Who writes a novel is seldom one.
393.
The power of expression— the more it gives off
the stronger it grows, and it feeds on what it gives
off. Like the double reel, the slimmer the one
end, the stouter the other. Hence the mere gift
of expression, often the chief stock in trade of the
orator and the poet, is a most dangerous gift,
treacherous to good taste. The production of one
work makes easier the production of others. But
while the first may be a work of genius, the rest
are like to be the mechanical result of mere
knack of talent; the imitation of the former
success, oft a mere echo of the whilom nobler self.
394-
Water in the glass, where it can be seen pure,
is not beautiful: it is clear, it is transparent, but
to become beautiful it must be shaded by its
bottom, colored by the sky, tinged by the salt.
Water in the glass is not so much beautiful as
free from ugliness. Air in its purity is not even
seen; to be seen as the blue sky, an inverted
ocean in repose, it must be alloyed with the dust
of earth. vSunlight of itself is not yet beautiful,
it is simply faultless. But sunlight in the rain-
bow, in the clouds, even in the smoked glass, is
beautiful. We thus arr've at the certainly false
paradox that there can be no beauty without
a tinge of what is foreign thereto, a kind of ugli-
ness, since ugliness is merely beauty away from
home. And yet this paradox is only false in
LETTERS AND ART 85
the ideal, in the real it is true enough. The
profoundest statement of the law of beauty is not
found in Lessing, or Burke, or Ruskin, but in an
incidental statement of One who though he
shrank not from making the largest claims for
himself, and truly spake as man never spake, —
beauty is the one word never found in his vocab-
ulary: even as laughter is never once recorded of
him who came to give the peace and joy which
the world can neither give nor take away. The
incidental statement is: " Moses because of the
hardness of your hearts suffered you to put away
your wives, but from the beginning it had not
been so." It is the sick that talk most of health;
the poor that talk most of wealth. Among the
wealthy the comforts of life are not discussed,
among the well-bred good manners are not talked
of, and in heaven pure spirit, beauty and virtue,
— shall these be much talked about? The very
idea of holiness is set apart, set apart from evil.
The thrill which attends the perception of beauty
is at bottom only the pang of hunger, and
"When I awake in his likeness I shall be satisfied."
God is called Truth, Light, Life, Love, he is
never called Beauty.
And here is a reason why the promised Seed of
the woman, who is to bruise the serpent's head,
is made to descend from the third son of Adam.
Cain was a murderer, and from him the Messiah
could not descend; but from the righteous Abel,
wherefore not from him ? Because Abel belonged as
yet to the beginning when things were yet so. Of
Abel it is not witnessed that Adam begat him in
his own likeness. It is witnessed of Seth: "And
Adam begat in his own likeness after his image."
86 APHORISMS
From Abel, the pure Adamic sunlight, the Son of
Man must not descend: for bearing away the sin
of the world he must come from Seth, Son of
Adamic light, but already broken into rainbow
tints.
395-
He reads essays on taste to improve his taste,
but he knows better than to read essays on
cookery to improve his appetite.
396.
Science needs a collection, art only a selection.
397-
The abundance of books may cause as much
ignorance as their scarcity.
398.
The picture or poem that needs explanation is
only a riddle in paint. But life has enough of
real riddles, and can well dispense with painted
ones.
399-
Carlyle — praising silence with the voice of a
stentor.
400.
Carlyle — chiefly thunder with little lightning.
Emerson — chiefly lightning with little light.
401.
Talent may faithfully reproduce nature.
Genius is nature reproducing itself.
IV.
OF. PAIN.
402.
Healthy philosophers ask whether pain is an
evil. Sick laymen do not ask the question: they
know pain to be an evil. And the sick philos-
opher? He too would then acknowledge it to be
an evil; but he would thus cease to be a —
philosopher !
403.
The mystery of pain? But there is no mystery
about pain. It is all explained in the third chapter
of Genesis in connection with verses 16-17 of
the second. Man (as compared with animals
being clothed) was created naked, dependent, in
order to remind him of his helplessness, that thus
he ever keep his face Godward and acknowledge
his need. But man, instead of being humbled by
this exceptional condition, is not ashamed, and
acknowledges not his need. Here as elsewhere it
is : " O, Jerusalem, Jerusalem, if thou hadst known
the hour of thy visitation ! but now are the things
that make for thy peace hid from thy sight." . .
And the Son of God weeps thereover. The
tempter is thus sent to reveal to Adam his own
nakedness, and Sin at last reveals to him what his
pride had concealed from him. And Pain is
God's verdict upon Sin, "The way of the trans-
gressor is hard" ....
404.
The only mystery connected with pain is that
88 APHORISMS
men reject this the only satisfactory explanation,
and keep running after others which require
more credulity to accept than the one they
reject. And this mystery is also amply explained
in that very account : that man is ever by nature
a sinner, a pervert, a fool: ever running after
the silly where the wise is close by.
405.
It is impossible in such things to be exact.
But with this allowance made pain is related to
sorrow as affection is related to love. The differ-
ence between them is only in stage, in rank. The
beast has pain and affection in common with
man, but this still leaves it a beast. It may also
have sorrow and love in common with man, but
this already makes it aught less than mere beast,
at times even aught more than some humans ....
406.
Sorrow is pained spirit; pain is sorrowing flesh.
407.
vSorrow is either noble or ignoble. Pain is
neither. It is ever its own self: just pain.
408.
Sorrow can also collect us, pain only distracts us.
409.
Sorrow teaches folk silence; pain does not
teach folk to speak, but it oft does promote much
noise
410.
Great joys spoil folk for little pleasures. Great
sorrows still leave folk vulnerable to trifling pains.
OF PAIN 89
411.
Our comforts come from God, our sorrows
from ourselves, our pains from both.
412.
Men are apt to belittle others' sorrows and
magnify their own pains.
4i3-
Man's capacity for joy dies with others; his
capacity for pain dies only with himself.
414.
To give high joy great things are needful; to
give pain little things are enough.
4i5-
The pain of what we miss lasts longer than
the joy of what we have.
416.
Continuance dulls enjoyment, but not pain.
417.
A joy lost can become a lasting pain, a pain
lost is never more than temporary joy.
418.
Great susceptibility gives extraordinary en-
joyment rarely; extraordinary pain often.
419.
The pleasures of life are short, not so its pains.
420.
The pleasures of life are oft increased by
others not enjoying likewise. The pains of life
are seldom diminished by others suffering likewise.
go APHORISMS
421.
All can be taken from life, but not the pain of
living.
422.
Of all else the more we have the less it becomes
to us. The increase of pain alone fails to diminish
it.
423-
"Pain is still a sign of life; the dead suffer no
pain." Vain consolation. Pain is the one un-
welcome harbinger of death, and the one thing
that makes death preferable to life.
424.
Pain, when the result of goodness, is a privi-
lege; when the result of badness it is a punish-
ment only when it has failed as a mercy.
425-
One way of avoiding pain is to take pains.
426.
To fear pain is natural ; to fear pleasure is
supernatural.
427.
To escape unendurable physical pain we must
become unconscious of self; to escape unendura-
ble spiritual pain we need only become conscious
of God.
428.
Physical pain is a sign that aught dying within
us needs resurrection; spiritual pain is a sign
that aught living within us needs crucifixion.
V.
OF SORROW.
429.
Of all else we know the taste from a single
swallow : of life alone the taste can be known
only after it has been drunk to the dregs.
43°-
The ship's destination is the haven: its destiny
the ocean. The soul's destination is rest: its
destiny, the storm.
431-
Where'er we go we shall be surrounded by
water. It is only a question on how large an
island we shall dwell.
43 2 -
There is more sea than land, and all the sea
is salt.
433-
Men ever seek to sail an obstructed river
and smooth; but the voyage is thro' a series of
canals: to be first locked in and then dropped
down.
434-
Man enters the world weeping, while all
around him smile; man leaves the world with
all around him weeping, and he himself does
not smile.
92 APHORISMS
435-
Before coming into life we must go thro' a
baptism of water; before going into death we
must go thro' a baptism of fire.
436.
Man is never so near the Satanic as when he
laughs; never so near the angelic as when he
smiles; he is never so truly human as when he
weeps.
437-
In Nature even the longest winter is followed
by a spring; in man the longest winter, if not
broken into by Grace, is followed only by a still
longer one.
438. _
Disease runs its course either by killing or by
recovery. Sorrow also runs its course, but by
doing neither.
t 439-
Men are divided into those who know their
misery, and those who know it not. And the
latter are not the less miserable of the two.
440.
Of happiness there are many kinds, but hardly
any degrees. Of misery there are also many
kinds, but innumerable degrees.
441.
Two things are equally real in life: love and
sorrow; but the joys of love are fleeting, the
pains of sorrow are abiding.
442.
Joy shared is doubled, sorrow shared is halved.
OF SORROW 93
443-
The highest mirth must be sober, but the
deepest sorrow cannot be cheerful.
444-
Joy is seldom as high as it seems. Misery is
but too often deeper than it seems.
445-
Their good fortune men overestimate — they
know not its littleness. Their misfortune men
underestimate — they know not its greatness.
446.
Misfortune brings other miseries besides its
own. When the elephant is sunk in the bog,
even a frog can croak on his head.
447-
The anticipation of joy is often more joyful
than the joy itself: the anticipation of sorrow
is seldom as sorrowful as the sorrow itself.
448.
Appreciation of our good fortune does not
make it appear greater. The perception of our
misfortune does not make it appear smaller.
449.
Prometheus at the rock is the type of the
sorrow of him that knows. Pegasus in his yoke
is the type of the sorrow of him that feels. Ma-
zeppa on his steed is the type of the sorrow of
him that works. The ancients have depicted
them, the moderner has depicted him. Only the
sorrow of him that lives has not yet been depicted,
for he is chained to a corpse.
94 APHORISMS
4SO-
The rose fades, its thorns do not fade.
45I-
Philosophy reasons with sorrow, but the sorrow
that can be reasoned with is only ignorance.
Friendship consoles sorrow, but the sorrow that
can be consoled is only hunger. True sorrow
accepts neither argument nor consolation, but
the reality that, Man is born unto trouble as the
sparks fly upward; and, Thro' many tribulations
must we enter the Kingdom of God.
452.
Job's friends showed their sympathy in coming
so far; their wisdom in keeping silent so long.
It is when the silence is broken that they change
from good sympathizers into bad comforters.
453-
It is shallow to console the afflicted as blessed
in disguise. The flour is not yet bread, its value
is in its being capable of becoming bread.
454-
Sometimes the superwise heart amuses itself
with lecturing the agonized soul under the guise
of comforting it. I myself have sinned thus
when I wrote: "We strike the barrel to see
whether it be empty or full, and shall not we
submit to the same treatment at the hands of
God?" But, O, my heartless player at comfort,
are you so sure of God's need to pound away at
your barrel to discover whether it be empty
or not ?
. OF SORROW 95
455-
The plaster for the scratch; but for the wound
■ — my friend, do not waste your time with your
reasonings, consolations and the rest. The only
balm for grief is hope; and if you bring not hope,
stay if you like, only be sure to hold your peace.
456.
The power of mind over body is real, and to
this extent: that even imaginary ills may become
real thro' delusion. But it does not extend enough
to make real ills imaginary. And here is the whole
fallacy about much well meant teaching with
desire to comfort. Real ills are ills, not benefits.
A brave soul displays its power of mind over
body and bears the ills, but does not deny them.
457-
The noblest sorrow has no antidote. It can
only have a counterpoise.
458.
In their care to escape great misfortunes men
fall into small ones; and these make their mis-
fortune truly great.
459-
Futile as is the search for perpetual motion,
the search for perpetual rest is still more so.
460.
Great joys are, like the waterless clouds, fleeting;
great sorrow is, like the scorching sunshine, sta-
tionary.
461.
Joy lasts only for hours, happiness hardly
more than weeks; anxiety keeps on for months,
miserv can live for years.
96 APHORISMS ,
462.
Sorrow like the wine cask is tested by its sound ;
the fuller it is the less it resounds.
463-
Who speaks of his miseries has certainly not
yet died to them. It is only a question whether
he has already been born to them.
464.
The joy that is not increased by sharing it with
another is not yet the purest; the sorrow that
is diminished by recounting it to another is not
yet the deepest.
465-
Both the wise man of the world and the man
of God soon discover the vanity of this life. But
the man of the world rests not until he has ex-
pressed his woe in words; the man of God rests ,
not until he ceases from words.
466.
To complain of undeserved misfortune is to
prove yourself unwortlry of undeserved good
fortune.
467.
They tell me that misery loves company. If
so, it is true only of those who in addition to
being in misery are themselves also miserable.
The miserable do like company, and this con-
stitutes part of their misery.
468.
Of all chases the vainest is after sympathy.
OF SORROW 97
469.
Better be unable to rise above sorrow than to
be unable to rise to it.
470.
To mirth one must stoop, to sorrow one must
rise.
471.
There is a sublime sorrow, but only a high
joy and an innocent mirth.
472.
The tree is clad in spring with leaves and
blossoms, and in summer with fruit. And when
the fruit is ripe, it is dropped in silence. And in
the autumn when 'tis time to shed the leaves,
these too are shed in silence. And all winter
tree standeth naked, amid blast and chill. Still
tree is silent. This is only a tree; and thou,
O man? ....
473-
The value of the tree is in the shade it gives in
summer, the fruit in the autumn, the beauty in
the spring, the fuel in the winter. The beauty,
the fruit, the shade — these it can give without
losing its life. But to give the heat, it must be
cut and chopped, and go into the fire. And all
the while it is winter ....
474-
Thou goest into the jewelry store and seest
pearls and diamonds and jewels. They are not
for thee, thou say est — and covetest them no
longer. Thou goest among men and seest com-
panionship, sympathy, love; neither are these
for thee, thou say est — shall these also then be
coveted no longer? ....
98 APHORISMS
475-
The part of the conductor is to collect fares;
of the brakeman to call out the stations; of the
fireman to watch the fire; of the engineer to
guide the train; and the part of the passenger is
to sit still and be carried. Great the confusion
were the conductor to apply the brakes, the engi-
neer to collect fares, the passenger to guide the
engine, and the brakeman to sit still and be
carried. Thus in life too each hath his part : one
to rule, the other to obey; one to rejoice, the
other to grieve; one to enjoy, the other to suffer.
Thou who wouldest fain have it otherwise, be-
cause it is thine to suffer, learn to sit still and be
carried. It is thou that art the passenger . . .
476.
Sorrow is at its deepest when it is love in
preparation; love is at its highest when it is
sorrow in action.
477.
The sorrow that has never rejoiced has not
yet reached its depth; the love that has never
mourned has not yet reached its height.
478.
We are not truly mellowed until we can behold
two things with a sad joy: others' joy, our
sorrow . .
479-
To understand sorrow one may learn from only
reading Job; but to love the sorrowing one must
have been in Job.
OF SORROW 99
480.
The drinking of the bitter cup twice is not
escaped by breaking it after drinking it once.
481.
The wrinkles dug by passion are ugly, but
there are wrinkles that have been paths for
tears, and these are not ugly.
482.
The countless rays held in one drop of water
are fit type of the countless sorrows compressed
in a single tear
483.
The sorrow that runs easily to tears is apt to
run off as easily as tears.
484.
One laugh is worth a dozen groans, but not
yet one sigh. One smile is worth a dozen sighs
but not yet a single tear.
485-
There is an acidity in the salt of tears that
washes away many a stain.
486.
The highest joy finds expression in silent tears.
The deepest sorrow in tearless silence.
487.
It is the empty boiler that explodes, not the
full one.
488.
Tears form for the eye one veil, they remove
another.
IOO APHORISMS
489.
The glass lengthens the vision only when held
before the eye. Tears widen the vision long
after they are wiped off the eyes.
490.
The work of tears is not yet done until they
veil our eyes to others' faults and open them to
ours.
491.
It is a question whether life was meant to be
hard, it is certain we make it so.
492.
It is not the water without the ship that sinks
it but the water within it.
493-
The axe has such power over the forest because
it is the forest that furnishes the handle.
494.
Misfortune, like a cloud, rises not from one
direction but from all sides at once. This because
misfortune is less in circumstances than in us. One
mishap dimming our sight causes much else to
appear as mishap.
495-
That the smallest cloud hides the stars from
us is due not to their smallness, but to ours.
496-
Th e ills of life are nearly always our invited
guests, and then we proceed to eject them as
intruders.
OF SORROW IOI
497-
Th e secret of sorrow is, Men think God has a
plan for them: He only has a plan thro' them.
498.
The sharpest thing of sorrow is the question:
Why must it be thus? But sorrow is meant to
teach us not to question.
499.
Our greatest misfortunes befall us either before
or after their arrival, seldom at their arrival.
500.
The danger from lightning is past when the
thunder is heard: the worst is over when mis-
fortune has arrived.
501.
The lightning is brightest when the cloud is
darkest: the wire sings clearest when the storm
is fiercest.
502.
Calamities are the fires kindled by a merciful
God for consuming the rubbish we have not
courage or zeal enough to burn ourselves.
5°3-
It is the severe scouring which shows whether
the pot is gold or only gilded.
504.
Like the shoe man can be made to shine only
after being blacked first and then brushed.
505-
Sorrow is meant to be a sort of Midas, and
change all it touches into gold.
102 APHORISMS
506.
It is the driest wood that gives the quickest
heat; it is the wrung-out heart that gives the
speediest relief.
5°7-
To be hardened, the iron must first be softened.
508.
To burn brighter the candle ^nust be snuffed.
S09.
Small men may also expand, but only like
mercury : when 'tis warm. Great men expand like
water, also when freezing.
510.
The steak to be made the tenderer, must be
beaten.
The more shaded the plant, the tenderer it is.
512.
The hardness of fate hardens hard hearts and
softens tender hearts.
513-
The moon which shineth with borrowed light
can indeed be seen by day as well as by night;
but to see the stars, which shine by their own,
you must be in darkness.
5i4.
The cloud is fit symbol of sorrow in that it
draws from salt water to give it back as fresh.
OF SORROW IO3
5*3-
Prosperity does to life what the tempest does
to the ocean: blurs the clearness of its depth.
Adversity does to life what the sun does to the
ocean: attracts its waters to raise them towards
its height.
516.
Who wishes to walk by the sun must give up
the stars. Who wishes to walk by the stars must
give up the sun. Only in the twilight can both
be had.
5i7.
Plants and beasts profit most by the light
which shineth by day. Man profits most by the
light which shineth by night.
518.
Shells we find on the beach ; for pearls we must
dive.
519.
Howe'er hard thy fate, it is not too hard if it
soften thee
520.
The hardness of fate seldom softens the heart:
the softness of fate often hardens it.
521.
Where the hardness of the lot has not softened
the heart, it is because the lot is not yet hard
enough.
522.
The pupil of the eye contracts in the light and
dilates in the dark: suggesting the need of ex-
panded vision in the presence of all darkness.
104 APHORISMS
8*8;
The healing herbs are generally the bitter herbs.
524.
The Nadir is under each man's feet, but the
Zenith is also over each man's head.
525-
The hurricane which blows down all that
stands up before it passes over what stoops
under it.
526.
Bear up under suffering, and it will soon bear
thee up.
527-
Adversity does for the heart what the fire
does for the city streets: enables it to become
widened.
528.
In the furnace gold is melted, clay is hardened.
529-
It is in the winter that the view of the land-
scape is clearest.
530.
A man's best qualities are those which like
birds' nests are hid from view in summer, but are
easily beholden in winter.
S3*-
Constant rain rots, constant sunshine withers.
532.
In prosperity, I learn the depravity of others,
in adversity I learn also mine own.
OF SORROW 105
533- $
To yield his best, man, like the soil, must be
first torn up and then turned over.
534-
To find yourself you must first lose yourself.
535-
Even the volcano, tho' glowing w T ithin, may
be ice -clad without if only high enough.
536.
The largest planet has its sun, the smallest
hair casts its shadow.
537-
Misery feeds as much on doubt as on certainty.
538.
To be mindful of your folly is already part of
wisdom, to reckon with your weakness is already
part of strength, to be content with your poverty
is already part of riches. Accept your sorrow,
it may yet become part of joy.
. 539-
The first step in the art of painting is to learn
the value of shadow. A first step in the art of
living is to learn the value of misfortune.
54o.
It is well to remember that no rose is without
thorns, better still to remember that even near
thorns roses are found.
54i.
It is easy to endure the great misfortunes, not
so easy to endure the little misfortunes.
106 APHORISMS
542.
Even an evil may become a good if we make the
best thereof.
543-
The surest escape from tribulation is to move
right on. The smoke hovers long over the engine
that stands still. It is left speedily behind the
one running ahead.
544-
Every sorrow can be gotten over; it is only a
question whether it had better be gotten over.
545-
The great blessing of real ills is their speedily
curing us of imaginary ills.
546.
In misery the weak seek relief in lamentation ,
the strong in action, the wise in hopeful resigna-
tion, the saintly in adoring submission.
547-
The two certainties of life are sorrow and
illusion. But the remedy for illusion must be
found only in this life; the remedy for sorrow
chiefly in the next.
548.
A bitter sorrow: to have your help rejected by
those you love — a sorrow even a God may suffer.
549-
Sorrow is best dealt with as the telescope:
which looked at reveals only itself, looked thro'
reveals shining worlds.
OF SORROW 107
550.
Misfortune is best dealt with as the pill is
dealt with: swallowed, rather than chewed.
551-
For thee, many alas! must suffer. It is thine
to see that none suffer through thee ....
552.
Two souls shed no tears: who has not yet
begun to live, who has already ceased to live.
553-
Two sorrows are without help: the sorrow
which comes from being overestimated by our-
selves; the sorrow which comes from being
underestimated by others.
554-
The highest joy in life is when one can say,
It is done; the deepest sorrow, when one has to
say, I am done.
555-
Our deepest sorrows are caused by our in-
feriors whom we love, by our superiors who
love us not.
556.
To stand at the grave closed over your hopes
— memory at least casts a halo round them. But
to stand at their ever open grave
557-
The clouds hide the sun from those beneath,
not from those above them.
Io8 APHORISMS
558-
In storms the feather flies higher than the
stone. Be then a feather if you like. I prefer
to be an oak, even tho' in the same storm it is like
to be uprooted sooner than the vine it supports.
559- ;
The surest remedy for the ills of life is : patience
with others, impatience with ourselves.
560.
Life is indeed sad when truth is only half at-
tained ; it is no less "sad when the whole truth is
attained. After the whole revolution the wheel
is no more right side up than after half a one.
But the sadness of half-truth brings no joy with
it ; the sadness of the whole truth does bring a
certain joy therewith.
561.
Fortune is best treated by us as the wheel-
barrow is treated by the farmer: pushed from
us when full, only dragged behind us when empty.
562.
We laugh at things too tragic to weep over,
we grieve over things too ridiculous to laugh at.
S63.
The sorrows of the noble are fewer in number
but greater in kind. The sorrows of the ignoble
are small in number and as small in kind.
564.
Every worthy life is a tragedy. It is only a
question whether a noble tragedy or an ignoble.
Your work bravely done spite of the tragedy en-
nobles it. Your work left undone because of the
tragedy, demeans it.
OF SORROW 109
56S.
The rivers do not raise the ocean's level, they
only keep it from sinking. Man's own efforts
cannot make him happy, at best they can only
keep him from being wretched.
566.
One of the best teachers of a foreign tongue is
adversity.
567-
Men seldom need our sympathy so much as
when we find their sorrow ridiculous.
568.
Those whom enjoyment unites are easily sep-
arated, not so easily those whom sorrow unites.
569.
Who think they suffer need our compassion as
much as those who do suffer. Imaginary sorrow
is still sorrow.
57o.
There are folk who have only their misery to
commend them, but this is enough; since it is
man's misery that is his strongest claim upon
our love.
S7i.
Learn from the fowl of the air; which, howe'er
low they descend by day always perch high at
night.
Learn from the nail: which, the more 'tis
hammered, the firmer it holds.
Learn from the candle: which, tho' it be held
downward, still sends its flame upward.
ITO APHORISMS
Learn from the rose: which, tho' its root be
in dirt and darkness, yet sendeth forth grace and
perfume.
Learn from the river: which, the more it is
dammed, the wider it swells.
Learn from the sea: which is grand in storm
as well as in calm.
Learn from the tree : which shades others while
scorched itself by the sun.
572.
Of all creatures man alone can contemplate
his misery: this is his wisdom; of all creatures
man alone rejects the true remedy for his misery:
this is his folly.
573-
It is the ripest fruit that falls when the tree is
shaken. That would be a consolation if only it
were not equally true of the poorest also.
574.
Anticipation of joy halves it; anticipation of
sorrow doubles it.
575-
Tears are sorrow's safety valves. Who can no
longer laugh can still cry; but who can no longer
cry .....
576.
The shed tears can still have a kind of sweet-
ness in them. It is the unshed tears that remain
unspeakably bitter.
VI.
POVERTY AND RICHES.
577-
Both rich and poor work with the sweat of their
brow. But the poor work hard for their bread;
the rich toil equally hard for their salt.
578.
Poverty and misery are relations, riches and
happiness are only connections.
579-
Folk are never too poor, but often too rich to be
happy.
580.
Unhappy with poverty? Then you will hardly
be happy with riches.
581.
Poverty is apt to dispossess the man; riches,
to possess him.
582.
It is from pride that folk wish not to be thought
poor. It is not from humility that they wish not
to be thought rich.
583-
The poor are accountable only for themselves;
the rich are accountable also for the poor.
584.
Who has still a want is not yet rich; who has
still a duty is not yet poor.
112 APHORISMS
585-
The satisfied man is the richest and alas! also
the poorest.
586.
The only real advantage the rich have over the
poor is the one the poor should never crave: the
ability to purchase rogues.
S87.
"If only riches were mine, what good would not
I do therewith!" Well, friend, is there then no
good thou canst do without — dollars?
588.
To become rich, to remain well is not always
in our power. But to become good, to remain
true is ever in our power.
589.
Men think it is their present riches they put
away in the safe. It is only their future poverty.
S9o.
To think oneself rich is not yet to be rich.
To think oneself poor is to be poor.
59i-
To crave more than one needs — that is poverty.
592.
Not poverty degrades, but neediness.
593-
Poverty may yet be a blessing; neediness is
always a curse.
POVERTY AND RICHES 113
594-
Our necessaries are ever supplied us by a
gracious God, if we take account of Him. It is
for our luxuries that we are made to pay.
595-
All riches is sure to be lost in time. Its pos-
sessor's chief concern is that he be not lost there-
with also for eternity.
596.
Among the rich there are ever two kinds: the
golden few, the guilded many.
597-
Of the many ignorances of the rich the fatallest
is their ignorance of the poor: ignorance of their
standards, needs, worth . . .
The tragedy of the rich consists in the abund-
ance of bread with but little capacity to digest the
abundance.
599-
I used to pity the rich until I saw many incap-
able of receiving aught but riches, and then I was
thankful for at least this gift to them.
600.
Who have too little need our sympathy; who
have too much may need our pity.
601.
Wealth supplies few needs, it creates many
wants.
114 APHORISMS
602.
Wealth is a life preserver : put on rightly it will
save you ; put on wrongly it will drown you.
603.
I do not object to riches having wings and flying
away. If they only fly upward and carry me with
them . . .
604.
Two men are foolish: who prizes riches, who
despises riches.
605.
Who teaches how to get riches teaches much;
but more he who teaches how to part therewith.
606.
Temporal riches is obtained by acquiring,
eternal by renouncing.
607.
To have much, yet prize it little; to have little,
yet prize it much — this is true riches.
608.
Poor indeed the man to whom sympathy is no
longer of value. Yet it is only then that he
attains to his true riches.
609.
He is truly rich who has nothing left to be de-
prived of.
610.
Riches is measured by what we own where'er it
may be. The richest man is thus, who appre-
ciates most, admires most . . .
POVERTY AND RICHES 115
6ll.
There is much sentimental chatter about riches
being a trust, a special trust for being useful to
your poor neighbor, for doing much good there-
with in the world. Well, my friend, riches is a
trust. But so is health, so is intelligence, skill,
talent,, and even mere opportunity. Dear senti-
mental chatterer, by all means ever consider thy
wealth as a trust ; but do not for a moment forget
that it is thy whole life that is the trust, and the
proper use of riches is only a mere incident
therein . . .
612.
Pity the man whose burden is greater than he
can bear; but not less pitiful he whose burden is
less than he can bear ....
613.
A common mistake of the rich : to cling to the
dross after extracting the gold. A common mis-
take of the poor: to reject the dross before
extracting the gold.
614.
Both rich and poor are often vulgar. But in
the poor it is the vulgarity of ignorance; in the
rich the vulgarity of conceit ....
615.
Our riches tempts others, our poverty tempts us.
616.
A peculiar snare of the rich : to descend from
their superiority by reminding the poor thereof.
617.
Every station in life has its own mode of illu-
Il6 APHORISMS
mination: the rich use electric candles, but
dimmed by ground glass; the comfortably off use
kerosene, but with Rochester burners; the poor
must get on with flickering matches. . . .
618.
It has fallen to my lot to know not a few rich
folk, with a goodly opportunity to look deeply
into their lives. Hardly one of them would have
been better off in poverty; but not a single one
was the better off for the riches. My lot fell
chiefly among the serious, philanthropic rich. Of
honest aspirations and brave attempts at making
the most of the opportunities of riches there was
an abundance; but the almost invariable end
was: the mountain labored and brought forth a
mouselet. And even the mouselet proved a
vague, shadowy thing. But the vexation of spirit,
the life-weariness (where it was not balanced by
delusion) was but too real ....
619.
On the other hand it is to be said of the poor:
that nearly every one would have been a gainer
not indeed by riches but by the relief from the
pinch of poverty. Few, however, but would ere
long have been found again where they were
before
620.
Money may place a man upon his feet, righteous-
ness alone will keep him there.
621.
Few perish from the lack of money; many,
from the love of money.
VII.
OF TRUTH AND ERROR.
622.
As I stand on the shore and gather pebbles, the
horizon with its unbroken silent circle limits all
I can see. But though mine eye of flesh would
fain tell me this is all, mine eye of spirit tells of
much beyond. And if I enter my skiff, and sail
boldly forth to the confines of the circle, lo, I am
in sight of another circle; and advance I never so
far I am still as ever in the centre of the same
vast circle.
623^
In youth Truth is beholden as a circle, with only
one point as its centre, and every point on the cir-
cumference equidistant therefrom. Its aspect is
thus simple, round. But the mature man be-
holds Truth no longer as a circle, but as an
ellipse, with every point on the circumference no
longer equidistant from one centre, but from two
foci. And now the aspect is no longer so simple,
so round . . .
624.
To be in error on some one thing is to be slave
in some one spot. Truth alone makes free, and
the whole Truth alone makes wholly free. And as
men ever live as they think, to think wrongly on
some one thing is to do wrongly at some one time,
if not at many more. Hence the all-importance
of Truth at any cost. Let happiness go, let life go,
let friends go, let all go, but Truth, God's Truth,
let it be had at whate'er cost . . .
Il8 APHORISMS
625.
Like the high-spirited heiress Truth must be
wooed solely for her own sake. The riches that is
hers, the happiness she bestows, must not bribe
the suitor into the love of her. Truth must be
loved not for what she has, but for what she
is. She does not therefore mind to appear for
a time in homely garb, even uninviting. But her
richest treasure is bestowed only upon those who
take her even thus — for her own sake.
626.
Truth is ever ready to be wooed, but only
by those who would rather dwell in Gehenna
with her than in paradise without her.
627.
Virgin truth is apt to appear cold and hard.
It is the part of its marriage to the soul to disclose
her as warm and tender.
628.
All else owes its beauty to its coloring. Truth
alone loses its beauty when colored.
629.
Where there is a struggle between light and
darkness, there is color. Color is thus a milestone
on the way. It is not yet its end.
630.
The banknote is prized even if soiled much.
Truth cannot be prized if soiled ever so little.
631.
Truth is like the coin : unfitted for legal tender
with the smallest hole therein.
OF TRUTH AND ERROR 119
632.
There is a medium between all things, but
not between truth and error.
633.
Yes and No stand at the extremities of Truth.
Between these there is a world of half-truths,
quarter-truths, tithes of truths, and the rest of
the series of the infinity of falsehoods.
634
Even the inferior man recognizes that every-
thing has its two sides. The superior man recog-
nizes only the right side and the wrong side.
635-
Every truth has its contrary: the wise man
looks to the truth; the fool, to the contrary.
636.
Truth is like the cork: howe'er often submerged,
it rises again.
637.
Truth is like dust: trodden under foot it rises
and soils your head.
638.
Truth is moral dynamite; and like dynamite, it
can be laid down with ease, but thrown down
only with an explosion.
639-
Truth is like the taper: which even though
smothered, still emits white smoke.
640.
Men have to find truth not because it is lost,
but because they are lost.
120 APHORISMS
641.
Nothing is more common than truth, what is
rare is the knowledge how to get it. The ocean
has plenty of gold, the problem is how to extract
it.
642.
Truth has ever these two marks. It can always
be perverted by the competent few, it is seldom
inoffensive to the incompetent many.
643-
The cold truth? Then it is not yet the whole
truth.
644.
The truth that only discourages is not yet the
whole truth.
645-
Truth also intoxicates, hence the need of so-
briety as well as truth.
646.
Fanaticism is truth alcoholised.
647.
Enthusiasm is to the cause of truth what water
is to fire. A little quickens it, much puts it out.
648.
Enlisted in the cause of Truth Indignation does
not help it. Eloquence endangers it, Irony and
Ridicule seldom serve it, Persecution always
hurts it.
649.
vSatirists may spare themselves the trouble.
Truth, naked truth is the real satire.
OF TRUTH AND ERROR 12 1
650.
Truth has more to fear from friends who lose
their charity in its defence than from foes who lose
their sense in their attack.
651.
The cause of Truth fails as often through the
injudiciousness of its friends as through the
judiciousness of its enemies.
652.
Truth is loved by few, lived by still fewer.
653-
The common man only sees truth, the uncom-
mon man also prizes it.
654.
Even the rogue regards truth, the honest soul
loves it.
655.
All men love to see truth prevail in their
neighbor's yard.
656.
Who follows truth is ever in sight of her, how-
e'er far ahead she be. Who goes ahead of truth
soon loses sight of her, howe'er close behind she be.
657-
Who loves Truth even in the little will soon
love her as a whole. Who hates truth even in the
little will soon hate her as a whole. Even a small
hole, close to the eye, gives the whole landscape.
Even a speck upon the eye shuts off the whole
view.
122 APHORISMS
6 5 8.
To convict him the truth need.be only in your
mind; to convince him it must be also in his.
659-
Truth is a searchlight: in the hands of those
wielding it it illumines; those who would fain hide
therefrom it confuses.
660.
Truth is uncompromising even to harshness.
What little it does relent is for the sole purpose
of becoming more palatable: the pill not being
the worse for its coat of sugar.
661.
The path of truth to lead to complete happiness
should be like that of the planet: ever round its
sun, never away therefrom, but never approaching
it.
662.
Man is miserable until he finds truth, and is only
less miserable when he has found it.
663.
To see the whole objectively apart from self, to
see self objectively as part of the whole — this is
the genius of truth.
664.
Every truth is useful, but not necessarily the
whole truth : the blanket covering the rest of your
body keeps you warm; covering the head also, it
may smother vou.
665.
We must deal with Truth as we deal with our
reading : which is best done by attending to the
OF TRUTH AND ERROR 1 23
words as a whole rather than to the letters sep-
arately.
666.
Who looks beyond a truth has not yet reached it.
667.
Nothing hinders so much the seeing into a thing
as the eagerness to see through it.
668.
A truth is best stated if the hearer is left with
the feeling that he could have told it equally well.
669.
All martyrdom is merely paying the price of pos-
sessing truth in advance of others.
670.
Who loves the light even without the heat must
still be ready to burn away his life in its flame.
671.
Always speak truth, do not always tell it.
672.
Be slow to give others your truth; they are
ready only for theirs.
673-
Consistency is the surest mark of truth, but love
of consistency is not yet a sure mark of love of
truth.
674.
Men entertain truth as inn keepers entertain
guests; who price them high when transient, but
keep them at reduced rates when permanent.
124 APHORISMS
675-
Two dangerous things: to give voice to new
truth, to exact compliance with old truth.
676.
Who loves men only is apt to be loose with
Truth. Who loves Truth only is apt to be rigid
toward men. To be loving to men without dis-
loyalty to truth, to be loyal to truth without
unlovingness to men — this is to reach the mark.
677.
Genius and Truth are always roommates, but
only occasional messmates.
678.
Peace and Truth are Siamese twins : united in
separably, though not always joyously. Happi-
ness and truth are solderwork: hold together well
enough, till melted apart by the first fire.
679.
Peace and truth are like the stars : always shine
together. Happiness is to truth like the moon:
shines sometimes with the sun by day, sometimes
with the stars by night, and is at times absent
altogether.
680.
Who cannot argue for his truth can still live for
it, and thus truly argue for it.
681.
The constant search for new truth is largely the
unconscious desire to escape the need of practising
the old.
OF TRUTH AND ERROR 12 5
682.
Into truth men must be led; into error they
fall themselves.
683.
There are no mediators between the soul and
truth — it is straight from the factory to the con-
sumer. Error has its numerous middlemen:
travelling agent, retailer, purveyor, peddlar.
684.
All like truth, few love it.
685.
Familiarity with falsehood makes it at last a
truth to us. Familiarity with truth only makes it
a truism.
686.
Who loves truth only because it is useful will
not always hate falsehood even when useless.
687.
It is a waste of politeness to be courteous to the
devil. Only too much care cannot be taken for
his indentification.
688.
The best way to deceive a knave is to tell him
the truth.
689.
Time always brings at last a lie to light. It
does not always keep truth from being obscured.
690.
The many who hate a lie nearly always hate also
the liar, the few who love truth do not always love
also the truth-teller.
126 APHORISMS
69I.
For its foundation Society must have truth.
Its superstructure's consistent with much fiction.
692. N
Who tells falsehood about me misrepresents me,
but who tells mere truth about me does not yet
represent me. To represent me he must indeed
tell truth, but truth told in love.
693.
Every error held in good faith by the many has
some truth. It is for the large-minded to search
it out.
694.
Every truth is eternal; but may become a
falsehood in time.
695-
Truth can be had without being sought.
Possessed it can be only after being sought.
696.
Falsehood only deludes; truth both sobers and
intoxicates. At the last it disenchants.
697.
Even error satisfies when it enchants. It is the
glory of Truth that it still satisfies even when it
disenchants.
698.
A lie has no feet and cannot stand? But it has
wings, and can fly.
699.
A lie is like a wasp: stings even when dead.
Truth is like the bee: its honey is still sweet, even
if the bee do sting.
OF TRUTH AND ERROR 12 7
700.
A man is divided by falsehood and united by
truth. Men are often divided by truth and
united by falsehood.
701.
All slang was once pure speech. Every error
had once some truth.
702.
The preparation of truth in the pill needs little
skill. It is the coating that requires art.
703.
All hate a lie, not all hate the liar.
704.
Illusion lost is never recovered, truth found is
not always retained.
7°5-
In clouds we must all be. It is only a question
whether we shall in the end find ourselves above
or below them.
706.
Slander travels by express, the truth follows
in an ox-cart.
707.
Naked truth is seldom the whole truth. Truth
must be clad; only not in fiction, but poetry.
708.
The most important truths are oft arrived at by
mere happy hits : but they are the hits of the fall-
ing hammer — falling for some time in the pre-
pared groove.
128 APHORISMS
709. •
"What is Truth?" asked Pilate, and the Christ
was silent. But the philosopher speaks: "Truth
is correspondence with reality."
"What is a garden, father?"
"A garden, my son, is a place fenced in."
"And what is a Cathedral, father?"
"Oh, it is a tall building made of stone."
Philosopher dear, it was the greatest of your
guild that defined man as a biped without feathers,
to be instantly refuted by the wag with a plucked
fowl in his hands.
Dear philosopher, do you now see why He who
said I am the Truth was silent when asked
what is Truth?
710.
Philosophy may seek for what is Truth. Re-
ligion finds Him who is The Truth.
711.
Philosophy is of value only when it is Truth in
a frock coat; Poetry is of value only when it is
Truth in full dress.
712.
Error does for the soul what the root does for
the tree: assimilates all that is underground, in
the dark. Truth is to the mind what the leaves
are to the tree : seeks light and air for itself, and
gives shade to all else.
713-
Error fishes with a net; truth, only with a hook.
714.
Error has its sole strength in obscurity: like
the firefly which shines only in darkness.
OF TRUTH AND ERROR 1 29
715-
Error intoxicates the soul as wine does the body.
But wine allures by its clearness; error, by its
obscurity.
716.
Error is like smoke: dissipates at last; but not
before darkening a wider area than the opening
whence it issues.
717.
> Errors are really few in number, only they differ
in appearance. A line moving round a point gives
a circle of countless points, but it is the same line.
718.
Errors are the only possessions we must pay to
be rid of them.
719.
Errors are the same in all ages, but disguised in
every age by a new suit of clothes.
720.
Error vanishes before truth, but only like water
before the sun: to reappear again as cloud above,
as flood below.
721.
Because folk seldom know both at once: what
is Truth, and how to tell it, Truth is seldom told:
by men, because they seldom know the truth; by
women, because they seldom know how to tell it
even when they have the truth.
722.
Deceit is the egg, suspiciousness is its hatched
viper.
13° APHORISMS
723-
Every error soon finds its champion, since
every error can be made to appear plausible, and
there are always folk able to make things appear
plausible . . .
724.
Imagination rules the world by deceiving it.
Truth rules the world only by remaining invisible
— giving the imagination ample play.
725-
In error we have many companions. It is with
truth one must walk lone.
726.
It is the mark of error that when brought to the
fire, it does not burn, but brought to the light it
vanishes.
727.
To start out with doubt in search of Truth is
to go forth to furnish a house with only dust pan
and broom . . .
728.
Never is lack of faith in one's cause shown so
much as when willing to lie for it.
729.
Both truth and error keep open house; but the
many visitors of error call when it is day ; the few
visitors of truth call in the night.
730-
One can ride two horses at a time, one can serve
two masters for a time; one can even love two
women at alternate times ; but one cannot see the
two sides of a truth at the same time.
OF TRUTH AND ERROR 131
731-
Repetition strengthens a lie, but is apt to
weaken truth.
73 2 -
Ornament ever adds to a lie, nakedness never
detracts from truth.
733-
Ornament is apt to disguise truth; nakedness
is apt to disguise error.
734-
The common mind first sees your error, the
uncommon mind first looks at your truth.
. 735 Y
The craving for fiction is due as much to the
hunger for truth as to the loss of truth.
736.
The great propagator of error is talk; its great
preserver is silence; its great foe is discussion.
737.
The hideousness of sin fails to frighten its vo-
taries; the plainness of truth suffices to scare its
friends.
738.
The majority alone can sustain truth, the minor-
ity alone contains it.
739-
There is no error but what will soon unite folk ;
no truth but what will soon divide them.
740.
The ignorance of the learned is a malady
peculiar to the craft. Who labors too near the
light must expect to get off with weak eyes.
132 APHORISMS
741.
Soaring high does not increase your light; div-
ing deep does increase your darkness.
742.
The truth we owe to those who have injured
us can best be told in anger. It is best told in
love.
743-
The wounds inflicted by error can be healed by
truth. The wounds inflicted by truth can be
healed only by grace.
744.
To disillusion folk without giving them aught
to take the place of their delusion is to crack their
nuts for them only to show them that they have
only worms.
745-
To maintain a truth, a thorough mastery of it
alone suffices. To maintain a lie the mastery of
several others is needful.
746.
To save our eyes we must not look too steadily
at the sun, to save our hearts we must not look
too steadily at truth.
747-
To the spiritual man truth is like steam —
even when not readily visible, yet hot. To the
common man it is like water — can be cold, can
be hot, but fluid at all times. To the man of
culture it is like ice: solid enough, but frozen.
748.
Truth adorned only borders on falsehood; false-
hood naked almost passes for truth.
OF TRUTH AND ERROR 133
749-
Truth shines even in darkness, error prospers
only in darkness.
75°-
Truth for the worldling is like cod-liver oil:
taken best disguised.
75i.
Truth must indeed be as transparent as ice, but
it need not therefore be as cold.
752.
To study error for the sake of refuting it is to
marry a bad woman for the sake of beating her
753.
A great catastrophe: the collision of a truth-
seeker with a loaf -seeker.
754-
The truth every age must learn for itself ; error
is handed down from generation to generation.
755-
Truth is always true, extending as it does back-
ward and forward as well as in the present. Its
friends need ever to remember that it extends also
forward. Its enemies, unable to deny its extent
in the past, comfort themselves with ignoring its
extent into the present.
756.
Truth is always beautiful. But naked truth is
apt to be loved for its own sake. Adorned truth
is in danger of being loved only for the sake of the
adornment.
134 APHORISMS
757-
Truth is a vast pyramid with its base in the
ocean. Only its small apex is seen by those sail-
ing the wide sea. Only the bold diver is permitted
to sound its vast depth and breadth underneath.
758.
Truth is brought to naught as much by mis-
pronouncing it as by renouncing it.
759-
Truth should fit the head as the shoe fits the
foot : which if too snug swells it ; if too loose chafes
it.
760.
Men first discern the truth, they then discover
the arguments for it.
761.
Truth is seldom divorced, but too often jilted.
762.
Truth has two enemies : the whole liar and the
one per cent, liar— with the latter as the not less
dangerous of the two.
763.
Only the divinely commissioned are the ones
to say with Nathan, Thou art the man! Others
best witness to Truth by leaving each to cry for
himself, I am the man !
764.
The best way to defend your error is to confess
it.
OF TRUTH AND ERROR 135
765-
None deceive so successfully as the self-de-
ceived.
766.
Error is like green chestnut wood: easy to split,
but hard to burn.
767.
A great mind beholds truth; a great soul lives
it.
768.
A whole lie is Satan in the open. A half truth
is Satan in disguise.
769.
Light blinds more fatally than darkness.
770.
The sun drives one oft into shelter from both
its heat and light. The moon, with no light of
its own, and without heat, drives one into no
shelter. From the moon only thieves have to
hide . . .
771.
The liar needs two things: a long. memory, a
short tongue.
772.
The printer reminds me that owing to this
page being supplemental, the next one will be
left blank if not provided for. Dear printer, he
is concerned only with the provision against mere
typographical impropriety; little aware that he
meanwhile teaches the poor author a most unex-
136 APHORISMS
pected lesson: The original, unbroken order of
the pages has been departed from; and forthwith
is adopted the apparently harmless or even clever
expedient of supplemental paging, numbering.
And all goes on quite well, until that unex-
pected — blank. . . . Every human expedient,
(once a departure has been made from the
heaven-ordained order), be it never so clever,
never so successful in the sight of men, brings
with it in due time the unreckoned-with — blank ;
with its relentless demand to be duly filled
in. . . .
773-
And the folly of all human Systems of Truth
is this ever-recurring attempt to fill in there-
with these from their very nature unfillable
blanks. . . .
VIII.
PARABLES.
774-
Left out in the rain the cask swelled and burst
its hoops. There, at last I am rid of those wretch-
ed bands, thought the cask. But when the sun
came out it fell to pieces.
775-
The dove when flying observed that it had to
beat against the air. It prayed to be spared its
resistance. The dove had its prayer answered,
and was put into a vacuum. But on trying to
fly it fell to the ground.
776.
The acorn wished to become a mighty oak.
But when thrown into the damp and darkness it
demurred, and it was released. Now I shall at
least be a clean acorn, it said, once more basking
in the sunshine. But it did not bask long. A
stray hog came along, and readily put an end to
acorn's further career.
777-
The vine weary of clipping at last prayed to be
delivered therefrom. The kindly husbandman
heeded her request, and its growth ran all into
wood. But when next year the new owner came,
he cut down the unprofitable vine. .
778.
"Which did you like best, the one that sang
138 APHORISMS
soprano, or the one that sang alto?" "I liked
best the one who sang solo." The youth on com-
ing to manhood became a metaphysician.
779-
"My papa has a piazza on his house, yours
has not." "And mine has a mortgage on his,
which yours has not." When these children grew
up, the one gave birth to a professor of Ethics,
the other to a professor of Political Economy.
780.
An ass hearing the nightingale extolled decided
to hear her for himself. The nightingale put
herself out, and sang at her best. Most excellent,
cried the ass, but if you will allow me a sugges-
tion, a few lessons from my friend the cock would
greatly add to your accomplishments. You will
find him scratching on the dunghill. This critic
dates only from Krylof's time, but he has an an-
cient pedigree and numerous offspring.
781.
A man was met of God in a hay field, and was
there converted. Full of joy he meets his neigh-
bor. "Have you found the Lord?" "Yes, praise
His name, long ago." "Where did you find
Him?" "One day in my chamber." "You are
mistaken, friend. A man cannot truly find God
unless in a hay field." This man afterwards be-
came a theologian.
782.
The inhabitants of a quiet village were once
alarmed by the cry of Wolves ! They rush to the
town hall. They debate, discuss, deliberate. At
last they decide that each go home and get his
PARABLES 139
gun. But as they rushed out they were met at
the door by the wolves. They had all been hon-
est agnostics.
783.
'T tell you I once succeeded in taking in a
whole town!" "Indeed! And how did you do
it?" "You see, my name is Smith, and I told
them it was Jones." When this man found
himself, he became a successful writer of fiction.
784.
A cat was caught by its mistress eating its
dainty fish. "O, you thief, skitch, skitch!" The
cat still eats. "Well, did you ever! You beast,
skitch, skitch!" The cat still eats. "You nasty
thing, I will make you ashamed of yourself," and
she grabs the poker. The cat now does start
away, only to finish the fish in the shed instead
of the kitchen. The husband of the owner of the
fish was a writer on Education.
785.
On arriving at the summit of Vesuvius the
rest of the party admired the view. He alone
saw the lava, and observed, What a fine spot for
baking potatoes ! In due time he became the an-
cestor of a race of financiers.
786.
A belated owl found itself in daylight before
it had time to return to its haunt. The glare
hurt its eyes, and it prayed that the good Lord
would be pleased to put out the sun. The Lord
heard its prayer, but instead of putting out the
sun He merely transferred it to its dark abode.
Ever after the owl has had much to say about un-
10
140 APHORISMS
answered prayer. Too- whit, too who! Two-whit,
too who!
787.
A man was arrested on the charge of stealing a
cow; but on proving that he owned the animal
ever since it was a calf he was discharged. A
fellow-prisoner, who was charged with stealing a
gun, on hearing this, set up as his defence that he
had owned the gun ever since it was a pistol. He
was sent to prison, but he reformed, and in time
became a successful lecturer on Evolution.
788.
A traveller ascended a high mountain carrying
a parrot in a cage. When they came to the sum-
mit, an eagle flew by. "Well, well," exclaimed
the parrot, "who would have ever thought that
the parrot and the eagle would at last be soaring
over the same heights! "
IX.
FAITH, LOVE, HOPE.
789.
All strength for action consists of two halves:
faith and hope; love makes it shine.
790.
Faith, hope, love, is the order of their longevity.
Faith may die in the autumn, hope may live into
the winter, love lives through the winter.
791.
Faith designs the bridge, hope throws it across
the gulf, love crosses it.
792.
The great end of life is love; its great means,
hope; its great method, faith.
793-
The door of faith cannot be shut without shut-
ting also the door of hope. And between the two
love also is tightly shut in.
794.
Want of faith springs from too much knowledge ;
want of love, from too little; want of hope, from
both.
795-
Which first, Faith, love, hope? I conceive
them as an equilateral triangle: at every turn
each of the three points is at the top.
142 APHORISMS
796.
Pure faith can dwell only in a clean heart ; pure
love, only in a clear head.
797-
Faith is the sixth sense added to the natural
man from above after he surrenders the other five.
798.
Anxiety and faith have the same ancestry:
ignorance of the future; but faith takes account
of the ever Present One.
799-
Shut the door against faith, in comes credulity.
800.
True faith is like the sunflower: keeps ever
sunward even when not shined upon.
801.
It is a low faith that moves mountains. The
higher faith crosses them, the highest lets them
alone
802.
It is faith never to despair, and it is still faith to
toil on even in despair.
803.
Reason is the eye; faith, the telescope where-
with to see the things beyond the range of reason.
804.
Probability of speculation as a guide of life is
to the certainty of Faith what the odors of the
roast are to the roast itself: they may stave off
starvation for a while, they cannot sustain life in
the end.
FAITH, LOVE, HOPE 143
8o 5 .
There is an opposition between Faith and Rea-
son, but it is the opposition of Upper and Under,
of Right and Left, of Light and Shadow; each
part of the other, distant but not separate. Faith
is grounded in reason, reason rests on faith.
806.
Faith is that firm assurance of the verities
which discards their proofs even to the point of
being forgotten.
807.
Faith is a realization not so much that you feel
better toward God — this is only repentance; as
that He feels better toward you.
808.
True love betwixt human folk — not that silly
thing betwixt the sexes that has stolen away all
the glories of the genuine love of fellow-man for
fellow-man of whate'er sex — is such a delicate,
frail thing, so easily wounded, crushed. And yet
its very glory consists in fluttering on, and beating
on, and bleeding on, maugre the wormwood and
gall that oft it receives for its support.
809.
The one thing in which human nature shows its
greatest skill is in misknowing the true friend.
The one thing few are able to receive, few able to
understand, is disinterested love, where it is not
clannish. (For the clannish love, even at its
noblest, like that of the mother for the child, is
only still a phase of my, though its beauty is as-
sured by its having the divine stamp.) But dis-
144 APHORISMS
interested love, nobler even than that of the
lover for the unworthy maiden — it is not even
misunderstood; it is simply not understood.
810.
Such a love is the only divine love. Blessed he
who loveth solely because he loves to love; and
the test of such love is the readiness with which is
accepted its inevitable wage — bitter sorrow. Few
are worthy of such love, and so seldom are even
those few found that only disappointment can be
its portion. Mayhap this was ordained to teach
such divine souls to have fellowship with Him who
is the great unappreciated, neglected Lover of
men. God is the great Misknown Friend of man;
unheeded, un-understood .... And not until one
is born from above in the only God-appointed
way is one able to bestow it, or fit to receive it.
811.
The soul has a skin as well as the body. But in
the carnal it is self-will, or self-love; in the spiritual
it is this divine Love. Both are easily wounded.
But when self-love is wounded, it feels also re-
sentment; when divine love is wounded it can
feel only pain.
812.
What is loveable does not yet fully deserve our
love as long as we see therein only what we do see.
What makes it loveable is that it contains much
more than we see therein.
813.
All may dispense love, no one can dispense
with love.
FAITH, LOVE, HOPE 145
814.
All greatness must begin with an uncommon
head, it can continue only with an uncommon
heart.
815.
Appreciation is sight, admiration is love. Folk
do not appreciate because they have not head
enough; they do not admire because they have
not heart enough.
816.
Argument seldom even convinces, and this with
many words. Love may even convict, and this
with few words.
817.
Both love and hatred are blind; but love is
blind to faults; hatred to merits.
818.
Both love and hatred prove themselves by
telling the truth. But love tells it in love; hatred,
in hatred.
819.
By loving the loveable you show forth their
worth; by loving the hateful you show forth
yours.
820.
Even the small soul can love in return, only the
great soul hates not in return.
821.
Every lover has a literature of his own writ by
his heart on the trees among which his beloved
hath trod, on the stones on which she hath sat.
146 APHORISMS
822.
Men may see best with closed eyes, they may
hear best with closed ears, they may even speak
best with closed lips; but they can love best only
with open hearts.
823.
Men seldom love those they agree with merely
because they agree; they often dislike those they
disagree with because they disagree.
824.
Open mouth and open ears seldom go together ;
open heart and open hands must go together.
825.
The great love what they find in the beloved;
the small, what they get from the beloved.
826.
Two loves are not yet love: the love that does
not dare, the love that does despair.
827.
True love is known by its kinship ; it must have
knowledge for its parent; discretion for its child.
828.
The pains of love survive the love itself. Love
is thus an annuity: yields an income long after
the departure of the principal.
829.
The highest love is like the lightning rod, which
shields those beneath by receiving the bolt itself.
830.
The only way to attain to your superior is to
love him.
FAITH, LOVE, HOPE 147
831.
The ministry to self-consciousness either in
yourself or in others is the business of the vulgar.
Noble it is only in lovers.
832.
The love that has stood one year's separation
may stand twenty. But the love that has stood a
thousand miles of separation may not stand a foot
of nearness.
833.
Two wounds are long in healing: the wound
from our love for others, the wound to our love of
self.
834.
Do many love you? The merit is probably
theirs. Do many hate you? The fault is probably
yours as well as theirs.
835.
True love has these two marks : it is first tender,
then enduring.
836.
True love to men reverses the housekeeper's
way, and opens the windows to the setting rather
than the rising sun.
837.
To be in love is to carry about a piece of coal in
the belief that it is a diamond. To walk in love is
to be ever transforming the coal into diamond.
838.
To love man is not necessarily to love men . . .
148 APHORISMS
839;
To love the loveable is human, to love the
despicable — this is divine.
840.
Pure love is proof against all the deadly poisons
but one: deliberate, protracted cruelty at the
hands of the beloved — this alone kills a pure love,
but solely because it kills also the beloved oneself.
841.
Love sees because it loves, hatred hates because
it is blind.
842.
When the heart is given away, it is henceforth
mortgaged with a veritable pledge of death. Shall
we then not love? Not if peace is a higher prize
than love. But if peace be the highest prize, then
the graveyard is the one prized spot on earth.
843-.
Nothing so bitter as injustice from those we
love. Since mere justice we expect from all, from
those we love we expect also partiality.
844.
When the heart changes lovers it is because it
has not yet been in love with a soul, but only in
love with love.
845.
Who loves only some men will be loved by
many. Who loves all men will be loved by some
and hated by many.
846.
Who is loved by many will surely be hated by
some. Who is hated by many will not necessarily
be loved by any.
FAITH, LOVE, HOPE 149
847.
Our hearts were meant to be so filled with love
to God and man, that every time we think of
man we think of both : praying the One to bless,
the other to be blessed ....
848.
High love with one's own heart is rare. Deep
hatred with the heart of others is frequent.
849.
Unrequited love is hunger unsatisfied, thirst
unquenched, sorrow unconsoled, agony unrelieved,
misery that cannot be drowned.
850.
To rise you must love your superior; to keep
from falling you must love also your inferiors.
8 5 i.
When we like others it is chiefly because we
know not yet enough of them. When we dislike
others it is chiefly because we know not yet
enough of ourselves.
852.
Man is a natural lover when he lives either in
the basement or upstairs. He is a hater only
when he lives on the ground floor.
853.
Who is able to help is not yet poor, who is able
to love is not yet old.
854.
Who has not known sorrow has not yet begun
to understand life; who has not loved, has not
yet begun even life itself.
150 APHORISMS
855-
To become beloved one needs only to be able to
give; to remain beloved one must also be able to
receive. _
8 S 6.
We love in others as much what we bring to
them as what they bring to us.
857-
Love, like the sea, levels all things by covering
them with itself.
858.
Love is the only possession of which the more
one gives the less thereof he parts with.
859.
Love makes copper look like gold. Gold makes
love look like copper.
860.
A great love shows itself even in little things;
a great hatred is more politic and waits with its
display for the great things.
861.
Fever consists of cold and heat : it is measured
by the heat. Life consists of indifferences and
loves: it is measured by its loves.
862.
Folk are liked chiefly for what they are; they
are loved for what they have.
863.
Friendship is more like the echo, returning
only what is given. Love is more like the pump :
returns by the pail what it receives by the pint.
FAITH, LOVE, HOPE 151
864.
Humility removes the cataract, love renovates
the eye.
865.
If you have talents, love will enhance their
presence; if you have none, love will make up for
their absence.
866.
It needs as much charity to let folk be miserable
in their way as to make them happy in yours.
867.
Justice without love is only hard, wisdom with-
out love is foolish.
868.
Love has seldom much to learn, but always
much to forget.
869.
Love is a flame ; and like the flame loses naught
of its own by lighting a thousand others.
870.
Love is an epoch before marriage, it is apt to
be only an episode after marriage.
871.
Love is a passion which comes folk seldom
know how. It goes — they but too often know
why.
872.
Love is a vine: produces in abundance, but will
not do its best till twined round another.
152 APHORISMS
873.
Love is friendship dressed for a reception.
Friendship is love fresh from God's hand: like
Adam in Paradise, and equally — innocent.
874.
Love is like the seat in the coach; made only
for two; friendship is like the settee, made for
several.
875.
Love is indeed the greater of the three; since
in addition to itself it is also faith and hope com-
bined.
876.
Ice can be made even by means of heat; hatred
can be evoked even by love.
877.
Love will not speak evil of any, but neither
will it speak good of all.
878.
Man is a natural lover. It is experience and
culture that make him a hater.
879.
One may think best in English and feel best in
German; one may chat best in French and sing
best in Italian ; one may scold best in Russian and
pray best in any tongue; but love is best uttered
only in silence.
880.
Only he can truly love men who has first learned
to despise man.
881.
Our borrowed hatreds are apt to be more nu-
FAITH, LOVE, HOPE 1 53
882.
Precept stakes the path out, experience hoes it
o'er; sorrow rakes it about, religion smooths it off;
love tramps it down, and thus makes it good
walking.
883.
Scientific charity — I know not how much good
it does to those who receive it ; but I do know the
harm it does to those who give it.
884.
Men love their neighbors either when they know
much of God or little of men.
885.
Some one has slandered Love by saying it is
blind. Foolish love is blind, like all folly. But
genuine love has keen enough sight. Only what
makes it genuine Love is that it refuses to look
at what is best not seen.
886.
Some souls are made for science, some for art;
others for adventure, exploration, invention, af-
fairs. Others again are made for farming, sports,
fishing, sailing, animal love. But the pure, ethereal
soul is made for just — love. Love is the element
wherein such soul revels. What air is to the fowl,
water to the fish, fire to smoke, the ether to light,
the very heavens to the mind of God — that is love
to such soul: love of the beautiful, the true, above
all love to beauty in souls, to beautiful souls.
And the lover, alas! is seldom good for aught
else than making love.
154 APHORISMS
887.
Sternness is the best mode of instructing human
nature, but as omniscience alone sees all the re-
sults thereof, love is for man the safest way.
888.
The fog enveloping the lover becomes the halo
round the maiden.
889.
There is a kindness which is the ashes of love;
but unlike ashes has no fertilizing value.
890.
There is no true friendship without much love ;
there is much love without true friendship.
891.
Those who love us most we seldom appreciate ;
those we appreciate most seldom love us.
We must love the wicked : not because of what
goodness is yet in them, but because of what bad-
ness is yet in us.
When the need of love has been burnt into the
soul it is fit for this life. When the need of pa-
tience has been burnt into the soul, it is fit for the
next.
894.
Who loves too much does not yet love enough.
895-
True love is like the poplar: however old it ever
looks young.
FAITH, LOVE, HOPE 155
896.
To know men you must love them; to know
the world you only need to have loved it.
897.
To know men you must love them ; to love them
* it is not always best to know them.
Charity should steer our lives as the rudder
steers the ship, and like the rudder should be
keep not in front, but behind.
899.
Knowledge may lengthen hands and feet; love
adds wings.
900.
Lovers, the wider their separation, the nearer
they are.
901.
Self-love is an excellent critic: but only of
others and not of oneself. And this vitiates the
criticism of others.
902.
To go through life without love — who would
travel through the world with the curtains of the
carriage drawn over the windows, to be shielded
from sun and wind?
903.
Both selfishness and love have keen sight: but
selfishness looks through a microscope, and sees
only what is small or near; love looks through a
telescope, and sees what is great or far.
11
156 APHORISMS
904.
The discovery that I must beware of those who
hate me came early, and this I found in nowise
costly. The discovery that I must beware of
those I love came later, and this I found very
costly . . .
05'.
Friendship is a well : however deep it never
overflows. Love is a fountain: however narrow
it always overflows.
906.
The Christless in his better mood knows that
the best remedy against paralyzing pessimism is
love. Christianity furnishes that love.
907.
The carnal man knows only Thou shalt love
thy neighbor as thyself. The moral man knows
also We ought to lay down our lives for the
brethern — loving them more than ourselves. The
spiritual man knows a love that is to be measured
not even by a superlative : Thou shalt love the
Lord thy God with all thy heart and all thy mind,
and all thy soul, and all thy strength.
908.
Honesty is shown in the manner in which
creditors are remembered; love is shown in the
manner in which debtors are remembered.
909.
A great mind is content if he have but one
great thought in the day. A great heart is not
content until it has a great love throughout the
day.
FAITH, LOVE, HOPE 1 57
9IO.
The knowledge which does not make us love is
not yet the highest; the love which does not
make us know is not yet the deepest.
911.
Love is the one talent within reach of all.
912.
The envious by their envy confess their inferi-
ority; the appreciative by their appreciation
display their equality; the forgiving by their
forgiveness show forth their superiority.
9*3-
The love that only covers defects is like paint
and putty : useful, indeed, but equally superficial.
914.
The lesson the unsaved need burnt into them is
the unceasing need of love. The saved need the
same lesson, but with the additional need of
patience.
915.
Many are the cures for a good lover; none for
a good hater.
916.
God is Love ; this is the character He gives of
Himself in His Book. And love is that which
can be comprehended by all. The mother has
hers; the husband has his; the friend, the kindly,
the compassionate — they all have theirs. Even
the slave has his for the master, which love is
duplicated even among the sub-humans in the
devotion of the dog to his. But none of these
158 APHORISMS
loves give yet even a glimmer of the love of
God — the love of God shed abroad in the hearts
of the regenerate by the Spirit. Only those be-
gotten of the Spirit know it, only they compre-
hend it.
And but for one statement concerning it in
Holy Writ it would remain mere sound to the
unregenerate. " Like as a father pitieth his
children so doth Jehovah pity them that fear
him " furnishes them with at least a clue thereto.
No mother would ever give her child in order to
save thereby that of another except in war,
where the case is complicated by the atmosphere.
But God did give His only-begotten Son that
others through Him be saved. Among all
earthly loves — all noble (because heaven-or-
dained), in their way — the love of a father for
a child stands forth unique: the only love to
which the love of the Father can at all be likened.
It is this alone that made David's cry " O
Absalom my son, oh my son Absalom, would I
had died for thee !." at all intelligible. And
Absalom was his father's enemy. . . . God's
hatred of sin, His holiness is measured by the
fact that even His Son must die as long as sin
was (not in Him but) upon Him. God's Love to
even His enemies is measured by the fact that
even His Only-begotten Son is given over to the
shame and death of the Cross as long as this
is the only means whereby to save perishing
men . . .
917.
Love sees faults, hatred looks at them.
FAITH, LOVE, HOPE 1 59
918.
Two souls lose our affection after gaining it:
who progresses not with us ; who has progressed
beyond us.
919.
Love sees what is good in a friend, charity sees
it also in the enemy.
920.
Charity is like the sun : which makes even the
mud to shine.
X.
OF JUDGING.
921.
Who sees most censures least.
922.
Only look far enough, and even parallel lines
at last merge into one.
923-
By all means expect no one to be without fault,
only be sure not to be on the lookout for that
fault.
924.
It is always safe to judge a man from one good
deed; it is never safe to judge him from one bad
deed. A bad man is always himself; a good man,
not always.
925-
Of my neighbor tell me only what is good.
What is bad I can find out for myself.
926.
You see him act meanly? Be patient — that is
his heritage. You see him act nobly? Date him
from this act — now he is himself.
927.
A frequent but great blunder : judging the qual-
ity of the honey by the sting of the bee.
JUDGING l6l
928.
Praise is not so sure a proof that you already
see all. Censure is a proof that you as yet see not
enough.
929.
If you find out your neighbor's character all at
once, it is because either he is a fool or you are
one.
93°-
In fighting unreasonableness, we are in great
danger of becoming unreasonable ourselves.
93*;
It is certain that no one is wholly good. Not
so certain that any one is wholly bad.
932.
It is on the whitest cloth that the spot is most
noticeable.
933-
"It is the poorest fruit that falls when the tree
is shaken!" Not so fast, friend. It is the ripest
also that falls then.
934.
It is the sweetest wine that gives the sourest
vinegar.
935-
Men are never so forgetful of what they should
do in their own place as when telling what they
would do in another's.
936.
It is at the sweetest fruit that the birds are
pecking.
162 APHORISMS
937-
Half of what we hear is seldom so, the other
half is not exactly so.
933.
A man may easily be judged from the kind of
friends he makes, from the kind of books he likes.
Not so easily from the kind of occupation he
chooses, from the kind of wife he has.
939-
Condemn not one until you have been in his
place.
940.
Condemn no one. If repentant, he has already
judged himself. If unrepentant, God shall surely
judge him.
941.
"Even the sun has its spots, you know." Yes,
but they can be seen only through smoked glasses
942.
Laugh at the ass's bray to your heart's con-
tent, only do not let it prejudice you against his
long ears.
943-
One of the hardest things to remember is that
mankind consists of only men and women.
944.
One of the hardest things to remember: that
your neighbor's blood is as red as yours.
945-
Who dwells with pleasure on the faults of others
only shows forth his own.
JUDGING 163
946.
"The curtain is imperfect, it has a rent!" But
it proves only to be the opening between its two
halves.
947-
Hardly a noble piece of work but some flaw
could be found therein. But our eyes are so made
that they profit more by looking at the beauties
than for the blemishes.
948.
There is a lesson in the Sun: its light and heat
are to be enjoyed by all, its spots are to be looked
at by the few.
949.
To remember his fault after his repenting there-
of is to punish one man for the mischief done by
another.
95o-
What makes even just condemnation so un-
just is that folk are seldom condemned for what
they do without being condemned at the same
time for what they are merely thought capable
of doing.
95i-
The weaknesses of others if dwelt upon become
ours.
952.
Persistent condemnation of another is sure to-
ken of some subtle condemnation of self.
953-
To hate the unworthy is to punish yourself for
their unworthiness.
1 64 APHORISMS
954-
To judge the individual by the race is unjust
to him ; to judge the race by the individual is un-
just to yourself.
955-
To praise one for not being as bad as he might
be is unintelligent charity; to blame one for not
being as good as he should be is equally unintelli-
gent policy.
956.
Who speaks evil of others thinks he is describ-
ing them — he is only photographing himself.
957-
Before sitting down at his trial, make sure that
you are at least his peer.
958.
Who has an eye for the weaknesses of others
has seldom one for his own.
959-
It is well to see the littleness of others, only in
theirs we must see also ours.
960.
Of all faultfinding the silliest is with what is
past.
961.
When Satan fails in driving folk into their own
Sin, he succeeds in setting them to judge the sins
of others.
962.
To gaze long on the exceeding sinfulness of
ourselves makes us weaklings ; to gaze long on the
exceeding sinfulness of others makes us tyrants.
JUDGING 165
963.
Only he has a right to reproach who is ready
to correct or relieve; and even he had best not
avail himself thereof.
964.
I never judge methods three thousand miles
away, said Wendell Phillips once in my hearing.
After nigh forty years I am compelled to add, I
never judge motives even an inch away. Men
seldom know even their own motives, and are
still less competent to understand those of others.
965-
We need much time to learn that we are greater
sinners than we think. We need more time to
learn that others are not so great sinners as we
think.
966.
Were we to spend our leisure in improving our
own ills we should have none left for dwelling
upon those of our neighbors.
967.
We must ever carry two standards: one for
judging ourselves; the other for judging our
neighbors.
968.
Two things we are safe in not believing: half
the good said of us; nearly all the ill spoken of
others.
969.
The ill , in folk is discerned more readily than
the good. Does this then prove his corruption?
Possibly; but it surely proves yours.
1 66 APHORISMS
970.
The vessel that holds not water may still hold
grain. It matters not so much what one cannot
do as what one can do.
971.
Shadows indicate the presence of light as well
as its absence.
972.
Hesitation is the sign as much of the abundance
of ideas as of their scarcity.
973-
We need much time to learn that we are greater
sinner than we think. We need more time to
learn that others are not so great sinners as we
think.
974.
I hear it often said, "You cannot live on air,"
but hardly ever, "You cannot live without air."
Deficiencies are more striking than merits.
975-
The pupil of the eye contracts in the light and
dilates in the dark : perhaps to teach us the need
of enlarged vision in the presence of all darkness.
976.
However dark the wall, the match can still be
lighted thereat.
977.
If anything grows in ashes, something may yet
be made to grow by ashes.
JUDGING 167
978.
Lay not up against your neighbor the sin of
yesterday. He may have repented thereof today.
979-
A man's work may be freely criticised; his
actions, not so freely.
980.
A great desideratum: an imagination as active
in finding excuses for others' imaginary offenses
as for our real ones.
. 981.
Not in vain are only men's faces exposed, but
not their hearts. Only he is fit to judge men's
motives who has X-Ray eyes, able to look thro'
the waistcoat. But none are apt to be so blind
as those who deem themselves to have X-Ray
eyes . . .
982.
The good things about folk are not believed
till we see them for ourselves. The bad things
about folk are readily believed long before we see
them for ourselves.
XL
THE AGES.
983.
At twenty one feels wiser than at fifty, but at
thirty one feels only wiser than at forty . . .
984.
It is a wise youth that keeps accumulating
for future use. It is a wise man that keeps
ridding himself of the accumulations of youth.
985.
The child learns only from loveable teachers;
he is not a man till he learns also from hateful
teachers.
986.
The child pets the lamb ; the man eats the sheep .
987.
Parents expect children to be grateful for what
they have done for them. Foolish parents, you
have been getting your reward while doing for
them.
Parents' love is best shown by timely severity;
their wisdom by timely gentleness.
989.
Certain vices in the young may be only virtues
in blossom. Certain virtues in the aged may be
only vices in decay.
THE AGES 169
990.
In youth the days are short and the years are
long; in old age the years are short and the days
are long.
991.
Old age complains that youth shows no respect
for age. But my aged friend, have you taken
pains to make old age venerable to youth?
992.
With men we can afford at times to be children.
With children we must ever be men.
993-
With the child the first motive should be
fear; with the youth, duty; with the man, love.
994.
Who wishes not to break the heart of the man
must not fear to break the will of the child.
995-
The younger grow wise chiefly by learning ; the
older, by unlearning.
996.
Good men stay good with age ; bad men do not
stay bad, they grow worse.
997-
To retain the simplicity of the child with
the power of metamorphosis in old age — this
is the essence of the higher life.
In youth one has tears with transient grief; in
mature life one has abiding griefs without the
tears.
170 APHORISMS
999.
Laughter may preserve to old age. Tears
alone restore to perennial youth.
1000.
The child should always survive in the man;
the boy only at times.
1 00 1.
The unknown is apt to rouse fear in the child,
curiosity in the youth, indifference in the man.
1002.
To be a good child he needs but little of the man
in him; to be a good man he needs much of the
child in him.
1003.
A child may oft be left to play alone; children,
hardly ever.
1004.
Age needs a critic; youth, only a model.
1005.
A good child is surely to its parents' credit; a
bad child is not so surely to its parents' discredit.
1006.
All wish for long life, few know that it means old
age.
1007.
A man is more a child of his age than of his
parents.
1008.
An easy art : to keep young ; a most difficult art :
to grow old.
.
THE AGES 171
IOO9.
Any life worthy of the name is spent: in youth,
losing its illusions; in manhood, sobering from
delusions ; in mature age, regretting the loss of both
yet desiring the return of neither.
1010.
At twenty one is apt to be infallible. Happy if
at thirty one is only about to become so.
ion.
Children are happiest when their future is
made present; old folk, when their past is made
present.
1012.
Children do not appreciate enough their parents,
and the parents do not remember enough that
this is because they are children.
1013.
Even the common man may grow old in a night.
It is the uncommon man that keeps young in the
midst of years.
1014.
Imitation is surely wisdom for the young, but
only for the young.
1015.
In youth I used to look for the hidden genius
in every man. I now have to look for the hidden
man in every genius. .
1016.
In youth we hope to avoid errors; in mature
age we are content if we have succeeded in cor-
recting them.
172 APHORISMS
IOI7.
That there is an ape in man is true, but only
of healthy childhood and sickly manhood.
1018.
Openhandedness the child learns much later.
To clinch its little hand it knows almost at birth.
1019.
To be the complete man the boy must die in
him wholly, the child must survive in him much.
1020.
To love a story is the mark of healthy child-
hood ; to love fiction is the mark of sickly manhood.
1021.
To value things more than their worth is the
folly of childhood; to value men less than their
worth is the folly of womanhood.
1022.
The danger of youth is to be led astray by the
abundance of passion; the danger of age is to be
led astray by its scarcity.
1023.
The child laughs at the ludicrousness of the
scarecrow; the youth laughs at the crow's folly
in being scared thereby. It is for the man to learn
from the scarecrow that it watches for others
the corn it cannot itself enjoy.
1024.
The child must have right living before right
thinking; the man cannot have right thinking
without right living.
THE AGES 173
1025.
Flesh and blood makes the child; 'tis the heart
that makes the parent.
1026.
Older folk are best controlled by holding out to
them some pleasure and much fear; the young
are best controlled by holding out to them much
pleasure and some fear.
1027.
How should old age be venerable to youth when
every one is frantically striving not to grow old?
1028.
Stories for the young, maxims for the old.
1029.
The language of a people is the history of its
past ; the language of a child is the history of its
present ; the language of a man is the history of his
future.
1030.
Two great mistakes: to think oneself young at
thirty; to think oneself old at fifty.
103 1.
It is always wise to accommodate ourselves to
our surroundings. It is not always wise to
accommodate ourselves to our age.
1032.
And so you have concealed your age? but not
your folly.
1033-
Men born the same day are hardly ever of the
same aee.
174 APHORISMS
IO34.
Every age walks by its own light: youth, by
sunlight; middle age, by moonlight; old age, by
starlight.
1035.
Ignorance in old age is a vice; vice in youth is
mostly ignorance.
1036.
The child is not complete without a certain
manly roughness; the man is not complete with-
out a certain feminine tenderness.
1037.
The child's education is not finished till it
has learned to obey; the man's, not till he has
learned to command.
1038.
Indulgence to children is seldom more than
indulgence to ourselves.
1039.
This life is only a preparation for the next,
hence education does not end with any age, but
is meant to last through every age. Only in
childhood and youth education consists in learn-
ing; in middle age it has, alas! to consist chiefly
in unlearning. Blessed he who in his old age
needs no longer to unlearn yet can keep on
learning . . .
1040.
The cyclopedia that is never outgrown, the
text book that never becomes out of date, that
meets the requirements of every department of
life, of every age in life is after all the — Bible.
THE AGES 175
The pseudo-scientist glories in the discovery that
his " science" contradicts the Bible. The true
scientist (who, however, is not yet in sight) , will
find that only that is science which is found sup-
ported by the Bible. And it is the utter failure
of our modern education to appreciate this fact
that makes our race a miseducated race: fit for
everything except the one thing it is designed for :
the future, eternal life; the relentless great certain
Beyond, which our modern education makes for
its but too well u educated " elders even at best
only a huge Perhaps . . .
XII.
SAINT AND SINNER.
1041.
By nature men are sinners; by grace, saints;
by inclination they are both.
1042.
A sinner one is born and this without his con-
sent. A saint is made; and this only with his
consent.
1043.
To make a sinner not even one other is need-
ful; to make a saint it needs at least three.
1044.
Men can change a saint into a sinner, but not a
sinner into a saint. The chemist can reduce
the diamond to carbon. He cannot make the
carbon into diamond.
1045.
The saint abstains from sin for lack of desire;
the sinner only from lack of occasion.
1046.
Sinners do their greatest harm when alive;
saints can do their greatest good also when dead.
1047.
The sinner needs to learn that it is wrong to
live only for the day ; the saint needs to learn that
it is wrong to live other than in the day.
SAINT AND SINNER 1 77
IO48.
The sinner is not safe as long as he condemns
not himself; the saint is not safe as long as he con-
demns others.
1049.
The message to the sinner is, Come down lower;
to the saint : stay below, and thou shalt be taken
higher . . .
1050.
The sinner needs to look for the truth of the
Bible only within himself; the saint can afford
to look also without.
1051.
The sinner needs to know first God's holiness;
the saint can afford to look first at God's love.
1052.
The sinner needs to learn that God can be a
merciful judge; the saint, that He can also be a
stern Father.
i°53-
The saint has no reason to complain of God's
ways, the sinner has no right to complain.
1054.
The sinner blunders in demanding an explana-
tion of God's w T ays; the saint, in endeavoring to
furnish an apology for God's ways.
1055-
God's wisdom even the sinner can see; His love,
only the saint ; but His justice only he can see who
has been both sinner and saint.
1 78 APHORISMS
1056.
The capacity for getting highly displeased is the
only thing in common between the great-hearted
saint and the low-minded sinner.
1057-
The images of saints have a better market and a
higher price than the saints themselves ; and saints
in marble the world permits to be more potent
than saints in flesh.
1058.
That they are sinners few are willing to deny;
that they are sinning, few are ready to admit.
1059-
When a man confesses that he is a great sinner,
he is already a smaller one.
1060.
Who talks much of sin still finds time to commit
it. Who talks much of virtue has seldom time to
practice it.
1061.
Sin grows fat on the w^ant of three things: a
loving heart, an elastic head, a pliable will.
1062.
Sins like a spot can be washed out in blood;
sin like a stain, can be burnt out only in fire.
1063.
Sins like writing in pencil can be rubbed out;
sin like writing in ink can only be scratched out.
1064.
Into sin man is born, into righteousness he
must be brought.
SAINT AND SINNER 1 79
1065.
The bad seldom deserve all the hatred they
get, the good seldom deserve all the love they get.
1066.
The bad man makes enemies, the good man
already has them.
1067.
The good as well as the bad take comfort from
the knowledge that others have suffered as they.
But the good are encouraged from seeing others
conquer; the bad, from seeing others fail.
1068.
The honest man can hardly understand the
knave; the knave cannot at all understand the
honest man.
1069.
Good men are seldom loved when all is known
about them, Bad men are often loved even
when all is known about them.
1070.
Many remain bad without growing worse. No
one remains good without growing better.
1071.
A bad man is known from the manner in which
he bestows censure; a good man from the manner
in which he receives it.
1072.
To be a bad man, he need only work out what
is already within him. To be a good man, he
must work out what is put into him.
ISO APHORISMS
IO73.
Bad men are often worse than they seem, good
men are seldom as good as they seem.
1074.
No one is as good as he should be; hardly any-
one is as bad as he can be.
1075.
It is not so difficult to do the right as to
abstain from doing the wrong.
1076.
To do right one needs help from above. To
do wrong he needs none from below.
1077.
Two men soon find the world too small for
them: the saint and the rogue.
1078.
The honest man errs in thinking all to be as
good as he; the knave, because he thinks all as
bad as he.
1079.
The honest man is deceived most about others;
the rogue, also about himself.
1080.
There are two kinds of sinners: who do not
the right, and do the wrong, — these are the
wicked sinners; who do the right, but do it wrong
— these are the righteous sinners; and it is their
self -excuse here that makes them also wicked
sinners . . .
XIII.
WISE AND FOOLISH.
1081.
Carlyle somewhere invites folk to contemplate
the fact that there is actually somewhere the
foolishest man on earth. But this rests on a mis-
conception of folly, which is distance from God.
From God the centre to the fool on the circumfer-
ence of the furthest circle, every radius is equi-
distant, but the number of the radii is endless.
1082.
Men are wise enough as long as they seek wis-
dom, they are not so wise when they think they
have found it.
1083.
The only way to avoid the sight of fools is to
remain in one's chamber, and break the mirror.
1084.
The highest wisdom has this mark: after re-
maining for a while the wisdom of the few, it ere
long becomes the folly of the many.
1085.
The wisdom must be in both: him that com-
mands and him that obeys. But who commands
must be wise for both; who obeys needs to be
wise only for himself.
1086.
All rascality is foolishness, all foolishness al-
ready verges on rascality.
182 APHORISMS
1087.
Hardly a man but he has much wisdom for
others, the wise man has the most thereof for
himself.
1088.
It is as difficult to hide our wisdom as it is easy
to disclose our folly.
1089.
Silence may sometimes be foolish before the
wise, it is always wise before the foolish.
1090.
The fool is a rogue incomplete, the rogue is a
fool complete.
1091.
Yesterday's folly if not speedily put away, be-
comes to-day's precedent, to-morrow's vested
right.
1092.
The apparent foolishness of others is seldom
more than our own want of either head or heart or
both.
1093.
It requires courage to be always your best self.
It requires wisdom not to be it at times.
1094.
Two men live only in the present: the very
foolish, the very wise.
1095.
Two men are wise : Who knows how to live his
failures into successes; who sees even in his suc-
cesses possible failures.
WISE AND FOOLISH 1 83
IO96.
There are no consummate wise men, there are
consummate fools. Most men are combinations
of both wisdom and folly, with folly in the lead
and wisdom bringing up the rear.
1097.
There are two kinds of fools : Who do not what
is wise because they know it not; who do not
what is wise even though they know it. The one
is an honest fool and little hope there is of him.
The other is a dishonest fool, and still less hope
there is of him.
1098.
There are three kinds of eyes : Who see the pin
and keep away before it pricks them — these are
the wise. Who see the pin and keep away after
it pricks them — these are the simple. Who see the
pin and keep not away after it pricks them — these
are the fools.
1099. ,
We learn more wisdom by renouncing than by
acquiring.
1 100.
The wisdom of the wise is often greater than
they think, the folly of the foolish is seldom less
than they think.
1 1 o 1 .
To be purified water must be boiling; to be
drunk it need be only warm. The very wise man is
unendurable to men. To become enjoyable he
must be wise in much, foolish in not a little.
1102.
The wise man thinks himself even if he makes
184 APHORISMS
not others think. The fool makes others think
even if he think not himself.
1103.
The wise and the fool are alike in at least this:
each fails to understand the other.
1 104.
The wise man is known more by his likes; the
fool by his dislikes.
1105.
A great misfortune: never to have been unwise.
1106.
Among the wise it is dangerous to speak what
you do not know. Among the foolish it is danger-
ous to speak what you do know.
U07.
A piece of wisdom: To make sure of your
getting off at the right station by getting ac-
quainted also with the last station but one.
1108.
Before the wise half our wit suffices, before the
foolish the whole is not enough.
1109.
Both wise and foolish of the world are foolish
in the long run. What makes the fool is that he
is foolish also in the short run.
1110.
Both wise and foolish make mistakes. But the
foolish try to prove their mistakes to have been
the best that could have been done. The wise
try to forthwith make the best of their mistakes.
WISE AND FOOLISH 185
IIII.
Common wisdom rests after tiring. Uncommon
wisdom rests before tiring.
1112.
Even the wisest are seldom wise in their own
affairs. Most wisdom is spent chiefly in noting
the follies of others.
1113.
From the School of Wisdom no one ever gradu-
ates. The most attained therein is that its ablest
scholars are given professorships while still re-
tained as pupils.
1114.
His ignorance the fool has in common with the
wise. What marks him as the fool is that he
alone insists upon imposing it upon others.
1115.
In controversy the fool has this advantage
over the wise man. It needs but few words to
assert folly, it needs many to refute it.
1116.
It is easy to tell what a wise man will do, the
difficulty is in telling what a fool will do.
1117.
It is safer to hide our wisdom than our folly.
1118.
It is safer to reveal our folly before the wise
than our wisdom before the foolish.
1119.
Men are distinguished chiefly by their punctua-
tion marks: the wise look at what is beyond
l86 APHORISMS
them and make liberal use of commas; the fool
looks not even at what is before him, and makes
liberal use of periods.
1120.
Men are divided into wise, foolish and rogues:
with the difficulty of drawing the line between
the last two.
II2I.
Men attain their ends as often through others'
blunders as through their own wisdom.
1122.
No folly but can be made plausible by partiality ;
no wisdom but can be made to appear foolish by
prejudice.
1123.
Our follies even a fool can see; our wisdom, not
always even a wise man. Fools are all on a level;
of wise men there are degrees.
1124.
Silence is necessary for the wise often, it is
good for the fool always. But what makes the
fool is that he cannot be silent always.
1 1.2 5 .
The choice of wise counsellors is a mark of
wisdom in those who as yet have none. The
choice of foolish counsellors is the mark of folly
in those who already have some.
1126.
The discovery that a thing is beyond his reach
kills the desire for it in the wise, but raises it all
the more in the fool.
WISE AND FOOLISH 187
1 1 2 7 .
The folly of the fool is a wiser teacher than the
wisdom of the wise: even fools perceive the folly
of fools; only the wise perceive the wisdom of
the wise.
1128.
The crowd calls two persons fools: him who
has very little wit, and him who has very much.
1129.
The folly of casting pearls before swine is only
equalled by that of trying to persuade them that
the mire they so love is filthy.
1130.
The fool dislikes equally the wise with the
foolish. In a vacuum the gold piece and the
feather fall with equal swiftness.
1 13 1.
The fool is easily definable, not so easily the
wise man. It takes many things to make a wise
man; only one to make a fool.
1132.
The wise man is never so near becoming a fool
himself as when trying to instruct one.
H33-
The wise may bring the world round to their
wisdom in the long run, the fools are sure to bring
the world round to its folly in the short run.
1134.
The foolishest personage — I had long thought
it was never given to any mortal to meet just that
one. Well, I have met her: one who had not
heart enough to be generous, yet not head enough
to be consistently cruel.
13
1 88 APHORISMS
"35-
The wise word should never be thrown away,
the kind word is never thrown away.
1136.
The wise man learns even from a fool ; the fool
not even from a wise man.
1137-
The fool's favorite weapon is a sword; the wise
man's, a shield.
1138.
The fool takes his umbrella when it rains; the
wise man also when it shines.
H39-
The gods fight in vain against folly? What
makes the fool is that he obliges God to cease
fighting against him, and leave him to his folly.
1 140.
The lack of two things makes fools : the lack of
sense, the lack of sensibility.
1141.
The politic man gets on with all. What makes
the wise man is that he will not get on with some.
1142.
The wise act in the present with reference to
the future; the foolish wish for the future with
reference to the present.
1143.
The simpleton has no judgment of his own : he
becomes a fool when he refuses to borrow it.
WISE AND FOOLISH 189
II44.
The wise man has his thoughts in his head; the
fool has no thought even on his tongue.
ii45-
The wise also begin with Nature, fools alone
end with Nature.
1146.
The wise man changes his mind sometimes:
the fool either always or never.
1147.
The wise man has rarely a friend ; the fool has
hardly one; but he has the advantage over the
wise man in not knowing it.
1148.
The wise man walks into danger, the fool runs.
1 149.
The wise see even without their eyes; the
foolish, hardly even with their ears.
1150.
The world would be full of sages if all could be
as wise for themselves as they are for others.
1151.
To contradict you can learn even from fools.
Only from the wise you can learn to affirm.
1152.
Who waits with his wisdom for others to do
wisely will remain foolish long after others have
ceased to be foolish.
H53-
Wisdom consists in the knowledge of great
things, but only when coupled with due apprecia-
tion of the little things.
190 APHORISMS
IIS4-
Your attention even the fool can compel; your
reflection, only the wise man; but your action
can be compelled sooner by the fool than by the
wise man.
1155-
The wise man makes us first weep and then
laugh; the fool makes us first laugh, and then
weep.
1156.
The wise man must be like the sponge : absorb
without pressure, but yield only after pressure.
IIS7-
Wise men borrow their experience, common
men buy it, fools pay for it without using it.
IIS . 8 '.
The wise hold their opinions, fools are held by
them.
IIS9-
The wise man prints his opinions, the fool
stereotypes them.
1 1 60.
The wise man sees in the pillar a support for the
house; the fool, only something to lean against.
1161.
The rich man is he who though he has little
thinks he has much. The wise man is he who
though he knows much thinks he knows little.
1162.
The wise host entertains so that on leaving the
guest feels more pleased with himself than with
his host.
WISE AND FOOLISH 191
1163.
One should never be assumed foolish till proved
foolish — in justice to him. He should never be
assumed wise till proved wise — in justice to us.
1164.
Selfishness makes at last a fool of one who with-
out it would be wise indeed.
1165.
All things move. It is the part of a wise man
to find his rest while moving with them.
1166.
Foolish nearly all are. Only the wise strive to
be otherwise; the foolish think they are other-
wise.
1167.
The fool also has abilities ; the wise man makes
right use of them.
1168.
The fool wishes for all he sees, believes all he
hears, tells all he knows, spends all he has.
1169.
Intelligence is shown in the choice of means;
wisdom, in the choice of ends.
1x70.
Learning in the fool is like snow on ice: much
covers it; a little makes it only more slippery.
1171.
Men are seldom as wise as they look, but often
as foolish.
192 APHORISMS
1172.
The fool is oratorical in his conversation; the
wise man is conversational in his oratory.
1173.
The wise man can understand all men except
a fool.
1 1 74.
A man should never be assumed foolish till he
has proved himself foolish — this we owe to him.
A man should never be assumed wise till he has
proved himself wise — this we owe to ourselves.
ii75-
A word will show our folly; to show our
wisdom it needs more than a word or — less.
1176.
Even a wise man makes a mistake once; what
marks the fool is that he makes it twice.
1177.
Breadth of base and narrowness of top — the
strength of the pyramid, the weakness of the fool.
1178.
Even the fool recognizes necessity as a master;
the wise man turns her also into a servant.
1 ±70.
Even the fool soon learns to take others as
they are. It is only the wise man that learns to
take himself as he is.
WISE AND FOOLISH I93
Il8o.
Two great fools : who always goes by his own
watch; who corrects his watch by every clock he
sees.
1181.
Even the fool may know how to use riches,
only the wise know how to use poverty.
1182.
Fools are of no particular age, and there is an
abundance of them in all ages.
1183.
Two men live only in the present: the very
foolish and the very wise.
1184.
How great the number of fools in the world
one does not realize until he meets them.
1185.
From the wise man we scarcely need hide even
our folly. From the fool we must hide even our
wisdom.
1186,
When a man confesses that he is a great fool,
he is only a small one.
1187.
Wearisome as is the fool without brains, the
fool with brains is still more so.
1188.
The fool ever expects more than what is there ;
the wise man ever sees more than what appears
there.
194 APHORISMS
H89.
What makes the fool is that he is fit for noth-
ing. What makes the common man is that he is
only fit for something. What makes the wise
man is that he is not fit for everything.
1190.
The fool vexes at all times, like the coal : touch
it hot, it burns you; touch it cold, it blackens
you.
1191.
Both the wise man and the fool yield to neces-
sity; but the wise man yields first, the fool last.
XIV.
SUB-HUMANS.
1192.
Animals are never cross-eyed, it is men that are.
H93-
There may of course be some cross-eyed ani-
mals. If so they have the good sense of never
letting themselves be seen.
1194.
Animals, when once they have gained our affec-
tion, never lose it — they cannot talk.
t*95-
Naturalists tell of a parrot with a tongue longer
than his body — once more suggesting the possi-
bility that every inferior creature is type of some
species of a superior sort . . .
1196.
Vanity over personal appearance is displayed
only among certain birds — another confirmation
that the fowl of the air are type of the hosts of the
Prince of the powers of the air.
1197.
His vanity over his personal appearance man
has in common with certain sub-humans ; and it
is uncertain whether even this they have in com-
mon with man.
196 APHORISMS
II98.
The owl is therefore the bird of wisdom, be-
cause even a fool can see when it is light ; it is the
wise man that can see when it is dark.
1 199.
Animals do what is right for them without re-
flection — instinctively. Man's highest attain-
ment is to have wisdom and righteousness become
suchwise that "he too should do what is right for
him — instinctively .
1200.
Animals neither laugh nor cry. The one keeps
them from being Satanic, the other prevents them
from becoming angelic. Man both laughs and
cries — he was only meant to smile and weep.
Hence though he cannot yet become angelic, he
can already become quite Satanic.
1201.
Animals we can afford to imitate in several
things, but chiefly in this: their character is the
same in the dark as in the light.
1202.
All other animals strive to make life agreeable
to themselves; man alone invents much that is
injurious to himself.
1203.
Do sheep ever follow a stranger? Yes, but only
when they are sickly.
1204.
Even the lion must crouch before the victori-
ous spring.
SUB-HUMANS 197
1205.
He wags his tail at every passer-by. Poor
beastie, he has only lost his teeth.
1206.
The woman that imprisons the bird to hear its
song is the real prisoner. The bird shows its true
freedom by singing even in the cage.
1207.
The worm you may crush today might feed on
you tomorrow.
1208.
The goose to be enjoyed must be plucked.
1209.
We cannot teach beasts to speak, we can learn
silence from them.
1210.
The eagle does not stoop after a grub and would
starve where the barn-yard fowl thrives; but this
because he is an eagle and not a barn-yard fowl.
12 II.
The penalty of walking among apes is an occa-
sional cocoa-nut shot at your head.
1212.
The dog, though whipped many times, licks
his master's hand again if petted but once. And
shalt thou upbraid, thy God who hath fed thee
twenty times where he hath left thee to sorrow
but once?
1213.
"He has great physical courage, great domestic
virtues!" Glad to hear it, friend. But there is
198 APHORISMS
not a single virtue of this sort wherein even the
best of folk may not be equalled by even vicious
or dull beasts. "He was so good to his children!"
Well, so is the cat, the hen, the buzzard, the tiger.
But if you wish to talk of his human virtues, tell
me not of his animal virtues, not even, if you
please, of "self-sacrifice" for others, as long as
every dog with a master is like to shame therein
many a human.
1214.
I heard the other day a tragic-comic tale of a
faithful member of dogdom, which is character-
istic as well as instructive. He was proudly carry-
ing home his master's prospective dinner in a
basket betwixt his teeth when he was set upon by
other dogs with socialistic propensities. He
fought bravely for some time in protection of his
master's belongings. But when he saw at last
one piece after another of the chunky roast car-
ried off, he too grabbed at what was still within
his reach, made off therewith into a corner by
himself and there dined thereon in peace. Poor
beastie, how like the modem business man, who
accepts all manner of distasteful crookedness with
the plea, "But they all do it!"
1215.
On seeing Bucephalus reined in by Alexander
the crowd thought: " What a fine rider to tame
such a horse ! " If there was a wise man nigh,
he surely added : " What a fine steed that is tamed
by only such a rider ! "
XV.
SPIRIT, FLESH, WORLD.
1216.
The flesh is indeed to be satisfied first, but the
spirit should be provided for first.
1217.
For health in the flesh a cool head must be
joined to warm feet. For health of the spirit it
must be joined to warm hands.
1218.
In every one there is strife betwixt flesh and
spirit. In the common it is the flesh that lusteth
against the spirit ; in the uncommon it is the spirit
that lusteth against the flesh.
1219.
Physical heights once climbed are reascended
easier than before. Spiritual heights once de-
scended are hardly ever reclimbed as easily as
before.
1220.
Physical strength is measured by what one can
carry; spiritual, by what one can bear.
1221.
Physical enemies are best fought at close range ;
spiritual, at long range.
1222.
When the body is exhausted man is best pros-
trate on his back. When the spirit is exhausted,
man is best prostrate on his face.
200 APHORISMS
1223.
Where the presence of life is uncertain hold the
mirror over the face. Life in the flesh then an-
nounces itself by moisture on the glass. Life in
the spirit, by moisture in the eye.
1224.
Whether the body be on its knees at prayer is
a matter of convenience. That the spirit be on
its knees even when not in prayer is a matter of
necessity.
1225.
To remain hungry after being fed is the sign of
a sick body. To be satisfied after being fed is the
sign of a sick spirit.
1226.
There is a strength of body that comes from
strength of spirit, and this is genuine. There is a
strength of spirit that comes from strength of body,
and this is spurious.
1227.
The wounds of the flesh are sooner healed by
its indulgence; the wounds of the spirit, by its
mortification. m .
1228.
Overwork starves the flesh, underwork the spirit.
1229.
With the deaf in the flesh it may be well to be
loud; with the deaf in the spirit it is best to be
still.
1230.
Of the body the pulse is felt in the wrist, and
the temperature is taken at the tongue. Of the
soul the reverse is the case.
SPIRIT, FLESH, WORLD 201
I23I.
Water will not mix with oil, but neither can it
sink it. Water is the symbol of the world, oil of
the spirit.
1232.
Temporal blessings make us joy in life; spiritual
blessing makes us joy also in death.
1233-
Knowledge of the world is mostly knowledge
of the evil therein.
1234.
The ambition of all worldlings is summed up
in one word : to have a large tomb in exchange for
a small life.
1235-
It is futile to try to conciliate the world to us.
We can only reconcile ourselves to the world.
1236.
The world is ever ready to prescribe the cut of
your coat, but leaves you to pay the tailor's bill.
1237.
To a purse the world is willing enough to help
a man. It is the filling thereof it leaves to himself.
1238.
The world cheerfully offers a prop to him that
can stand alone.
1239.
The world does not change, it is only your
world that changes.
202 APHORISMS
1240.
I know an affectionate child who never cuddles
up to his papa without mischievously tickling him
— striking illustration of the world's kindness to
us.
1241.
The world consists of day-dreamers and night-
dreamers. And the day-dreamers are not the less
harmful of the two.
1242.
The world is ever in conspiracy against the best,
not by patronizing the bad, but the good.
1243.
The world is governed neither by right nor by
wrong, but by an inextricable mixture of the two.
1244.
The world pays those it owes most in debased
coin, but it is the best it has.
1245.
In the world even the best dissipate their lives,
it is only a question of the kind of dissipation.
1246.
You who are making such a fuss because you
have to conform to the world — it is to your pride
that you conform, not to the world.
1247.
The world loves a man as much for the bad
qualities he has not as for good qualities he has.
1248.
The pleasures of the world are like the leaves
of the tree : shelter only in summer, and even then
only in fair weather.
SPIRIT, FLESH, WORLD 203
1249.
None are so weak for helping the truly needy
as the great of the world.
1250.
The world is an inclined plane: downward
things go therein of themselves ; to be kept where
they should be they must be held up.
1251.
The worldly wise man finds fewer sages than
he expected; the spiritually wise man is apt to
find more fools than he expected.
1252.
The only way to conquer the world is to for-
sake it.
1253-
The world has use only for those who let them-
selves be used by the world.
1254.
Those to whom the world appears to be grow-
ing worse do become better without it, those to
whom the world appears to be growing better do
not grow better with it.
1255-
To be successful in the world a man's life must
be rather wise as a whole, rather foolish in detail.
1256.
To be successful in the world one needs only to
float with the current; to be successful in the
kingdom one must intelligently handle the oars.
14
204 APHORISMS
1257-
To be wise in the world we need only suspect
men as much as they deserve. To be wise in the
kingdom we must love them more than they
deserve.
1258.
To know the kingdom you must have at least
begun to be in it. To know the world you must
have ceased to be of it.
1259.
In the world our highest ambition is to make
others like ourselves. In the kingdom to make
ourselves like the One Other.
1260.
To make the world it took only six days, to give
the law it took forty ; this perhaps to teach us the
relative value of both.
1261.
To succeed in the kingdom one must have no
vices. To succeed in the world he needs only a
few virtues.
1262.
To succeed in the world you must know how to
assert yourself. To succeed in the kingdom you
need only to know how to deny yourself.
1263.
To succeed in the world you need a past to
cling to; to succeed in the kindgom you need
the past only to break from.
1264.
In the world the original man is he who imi-
tates none. In the kingdom only he is original
who is ever a copy of the One.
SPIRIT, FLESH, WORLD 205
1265.
To shine in the world it is enough if another's
light rests upon you. To shine in the kingdom
the light of only One other must burn through
you.
1266.
To gain this world much trust in self is needed.
To gain the next a little trust in God is enough.
1267.
The good learn early that there are wicked folk
in the world ; the bad learn late that there are good
folk in the world.
1268.
The world tolerates even sins if they are only
on a scale large enough.
1269.
The world that it takes all kind of people to
make is a bad world. To make a good world it
takes only one kind.
1270.
The worldling distrusts men at first because he
knows them not as yet. Christian distrusts men
because he knows them already but too well.
1271.
The worldling is apt to err in deeming himself
coachman charged with driving and sitting in
front. Christian is apt to err in deeming himself
mere passenger: to be driven and sitting behind.
1272.
The worldling who at first loves men ere long
learns to despise them. Christian soon learns to
despise men, and then — loves them.
206 APHORISMS
1273.
The earth turns once a day : to teach us that it
is not for man to set the world aright.
1274.
Rest in the world is got by first enduring and
then striving. Rest in the kingdom, by first
striving and then enduring.
1275-
For walking in the world nothing short of a lan-
tern will do; for walking in the kingdom flashes
of lightning must suffice.
1276.
In the kingdom no success can be attained with
even a trace of delusion; in the world no success
can be had without at least some delusion.
1277.
What if the world know thee not ? Enough if
He knoweth thee who made the world.
1278.
The great reliance of the worldling is strength
from within; of Christian, strength from without,
from above.
1279.
There is only one way to avoid the desperate
need of an occasional escape into the higher world
— to stay therein constantly.
1280.
To be fit for earth you must first know what
you can do. To be fit for heaven you need first
only know what you cannot do.
SPIRIT, FLESH, WORLD 207
I28l.
To see earth we must open our eyes, to behold
heaven we must shut them.
1282.
To know how to use every one is the height of
earthly wisdom. To know how to be of use to
every one is the height of heavenly wisdom.
1283.
True success is attained in the world by at all
times holding on; in the kingdom, by first letting
go.
1284.
To remain hungry on being fed is the sign of a
sick body; to be satisfied after being fed is the
sign of a sick spirit.
1285.
In the world men are strong in proportion to
their feeling themselves strong. In the kingdom,
in proportion to their feeling themselves weak.
1286.
In the world the great desideratum is to know
how to distinguish yourself; in the kingdom, how
to extinguish yourself.
1287.
For success in the world a man's wisdom must
first be hid; for success in the kingdom his folly
must first be manifest.
1288.
The fish in the net darts aimlessly up and
down, the bird sings even in the cage. The fish
lives in the water, type of the world; the bird
lives in the air, type of the spirit.
208 APHORISMS
1289.
In the world success is measured by the amount
of good-will obtained from men; in the kingdom
by the amount deserved.
1290.
In the world men are dissatisfied first with
what they are not, and then with what they are ;
in the kingdom men must be dissatisfied first with
what they do, and then with what they don't.
1291.
The growth of the flesh is only increase; the
growth of the spirit must be also transformation.
1292.
To outgrow one's clothes is a sign indeed of
healthy physical growth, but of unhealthy spiritual
growth.
1293.
In the world the great desideratum is to know
how to distinguish yourself; in the Kingdom,
how to extinguish yourself.
1294.
Discontent is a mark either of your not yet
having found your place in the world, or of your
having already lost it in the Kingdom.
1295-
In the world success is measured by the ability
to go up; in the Kingdom, by the ability to come
down.
1296.
There are in the world no good folk; there are
only the bad and the not so bad. There are in the
Kingdom no bad folk; there are only the good
and not so good.
XVI.
OF HAPPINESS.
1297.
The envy happiness causes is always real, the
happiness itself is not so real.
1298.
Singers are best enjoyed when not looked at;
happiness is best possessed when not contem-
plated.
1299.
' 'Happy am I, for I do what I like!" And so
does the — beast . . .
1300.
To deserve happiness we must keep our eyes
open; to have it, we must keep them shut
1301.
Only fo.ols and philosophers go through life
happy; and the philosopher, to keep happy,
must at last also become a fool.
1302.
To happiness the shortest road is generally the
longest.
i3°3-
Much happiness comes to men from what
they know; more from what they are kept from
knowing.
1304.
The surest way to leave happiness behind is to
run after it.
2IO APHORISMS
I30S.
Happiness itself is indeed of some importance,
but the important matter is to — deserve happi-
ness.
1306.
Your concern is only that you deserve happiness.
That you have it, is God's. All misery of spirit
is due chiefly to the transposition of these two
facts.
1307.
The joy of happiness is like the rubber on the
pencil: which never lasts as long as the pencil
itself.
1308.
And so you are not happy? Well, you will
stay so as long as you remind yourself thereof.
1309.
Men are happiest when least aware of happiness.
1310.
Folk are seldom as happy as when they bore.
1311.
Men are made as unhappy by the ills they fear
as by those they suffer.
1312.
Only he can serve men who is happy, only
he can love men who has been unhappy ; only he
can know men, who has been both.
1313-
Who has got so far as never to be unhappy, can
he really be happy?
OF HAPPINESS 211
To be happy one needs very much mind or very
little, with the chances much in favor of the very
little.
1315-
To be happy one needs to know but little, to
be good one must know much; to be useful, one
must know neither much nor little.
1316.
To make us happy one must surely be good;
to make us miserable he need not be bad.
I3i7-
Who has happiness without the peace is farthest
from Christ. Who has the peace without the
happiness is nearest to Christ. Who has neither
the happiness nor the peace is meant to be on the
way to Christ.
1318.
The only way to be less unhappy is to become
more so.
1319-
In its ultimate analysis unhappiness always
comes from laying claim to what one has no title.
1320.
There are two kinds of happiness : the possession
of the beautiful and the admiration of the noble :
and this second is also a possession of the beautiful.
1321.
We cannot make ourselves happy, we can make
ourselves perfect. We cannot make others perfect,
we can make them happy.
2 12 APHORISMS
1322.
Whether you shall be unfortunate depends also
on others. Whether you shall be unhappy de-
pends mostly on yourself.
1323-
Happiness easily purchased is like installment
goods: found rather high-priced in the end.
1324.
The senses are only tyrannous, logic is merciless.
Now we often need emancipation from the senses,
we rarely need succor against the mercilessness of
logic.
1325-
Perfect happiness! But what makes it im-
perfect is that it cannot last.
1326.
The only successful search for happiness is that
which begins with looking for it just where you are.
1327.
The noblest happiness is being happy in that
of another. Unfortunately this we cannot have
until happy ourselves.
1328.
Life to be made happy must be made so by God,
since human nature has made it a tragedy long ago.
1329.
It is a low happiness that comes from doing only
what you would; a higher comes from doing what
you should; the highest from doing what you
could.
OF HAPPINESS 213
I330.
The one thing happiness will not stand is —
close scrutiny.
1331.
The only truly happy folk are found in the
asylum.
1332.
Two things make for the happy life: inde-
pendence from those by whom we are not loved,
independence with those by whom we are loved.
1333-
There are two kinds of happiness : one given by
surroundings, occupation, friends — this men often
have, but seldom profess ; the other derived from
elevation of thought — this men often profess,
but seldom have.
1334.
"Man has his source of happiness within him."
Unfortunately the happiness that is only from
within is merely a feigned escape from misery.
1335.
It took men long to learn that happiness is
found not without but within; it will take them
longer to learn that neither can it be found within,
but above.
1336.
It is not a great mistake never to commit one.
It is a great misfortune never to be unhappy.
1337.
To make one happy many things are needful,
to make him miserable one thing is enough.
214 APHORISMS
1338.
To destroy one's estate it needs a conflagration,
to rob him of his peace a mosquito is enough.
1339.
There is only one sure way to be happy, and
that is not to be thinking of happiness ....
1340.
The mountains are therefore type of the
Promised Land, because from the distance they
charm with the view of themselves; from their
own summit they delight with the view off them-
selves.
1341-
We must learn to detach ourselves from all
that can be lost that we may become attached
to the only one that is ever ready to be found.
1342.
Life is too short for regrets, and for mourning
it is only long enough when its tears fertilize the
heart.
1343-
Every earthly hope is an egg, but the serpent
hatches thence as often as the dove ....
XVII
HEART AND HEAD.
I344-
Only hard diamond cuts hard diamond; but
the hardest heart can be cut only by the tenderest.
I34S-
The head can never form a good heart, but
it can rule an evil one.
1346.
The head should always be kept old; the
heart, never.
1347-
The mouth should seldom be open; the ears
often; the heart always.
1348.
There is no question as to the uncovering of the
head indoors; the question is as to the uncovering
of the heart out-of-doors.
1349-
By all means keep your head covered in cold
weather, but keep your heart uncovered in all
weathers.
1350-
The mind may be changed as oft as needful;
the heart must be changed only once.
1351-
The passions can seldom be trusted; the head
oft, the heart nearly always.
2l6 APHORISMS
1352.
The key to the heart of others is carried within
our own.
The head needs for its growth new things, the
heart, only old truths.
1354.
All noble joy is due to the heart; every ignoble
pain, to the head.
I3SS-
We all need smooth heads. It is in our hearts
we can afford a few folds.
1356.
Where explanations do not explain it is because
they are addressed from head to head, whereas
they should be addressed first from the heart to the
head, and then from the head to the heart.
1357.
Where prosperity turns the head it shrivels also
the heart. Where adversity enlarges the heart it
in nowise shrivels the head.
1358.
Head and heart move on parallel lines only with
fools or rogues. With the wise and honest they
soon enough converge.
1359-
An obstinate head is surely a defect; an obsti-
nate heart, not so surely.
1360.
A noble heart will be resigned to all troubles,
even to that of being a trouble.
HEART AND HEAD 217
1361.
A great mind may be content with one great
thought in a day. A great heart is content only
with one great love throughout the day.
1362.
An uncommon head is nearly always an enjoy-
ment ; an uncommon heart , only rarely.
1363-
A pure heart surely makes for transparency, a
clear head not so surely.
1364.
Be sure to put the heart in the right place, that
of the head will come of itself.
1365-
Hardly a man but is at times cruel. But half
of mankind is cruel from lack of heart ; the other
half, from lack of head.
1366.
Contempt which may spring from a clear head is
compatible with a pure heart. But hatred which
springs only from a foul heart is incompatible
with a clear head.
1367.
Corruption of the heart — confusion of the head.
1368.
I have seen a well-written letter by one who had
neither hands nor feet. I am yet to see a good
deed done by one who has neither head nor heart.
1369.
What the President is to nominations and the
Senate to their confirmations, the heart and the
head should be to our intentions.
2l8 APHORISMS
1370.
When her favorite cup was broken her heart too
was broken. Well, she had just heart enough to
be held by the cup.
i37i-
A black heart is after all a misfortune as well
as a fault, and needs our pity as well as condemna-
tion: only condemnation first, pity afterwards.
1372.
Who addresses the head may write in black.
To reach the heart he must write also in red.
1373-
The great fact for the heart is sorrow ; the great
problem for the head is submission.
1374.
To gain entrance into the hearts of others we
need only the opening of theirs ; to abide in the
hearts of others we need also the opening of ours.
1375-
The journey from head to heart may be long;
the journey from heart to hand must be short.
1376.
Ready habitual assent in conversation is a
mark of either a weak head or a corrupt heart.
Ready habitual contradiction is a mark of both.
1377.
All greatness must begin with an uncommon
head; it can continue only with an uncommon
heart.
XVIIL
CHRISTIANITY, TRUE RELIGION
1378. _
Much of Christian's tribulation is due to
misapprehension of the nature of his journey.
He deems himself passenger in the coach, to be
carried to his destination. He is meant to be
conductor : getting on and off at every station.
1379.
Like the candle Christian also must be con-
sumed in giving out his light ; but unlike the can-
dle he must keep on shining after he is consumed.
1380.
Like the Master's, Christian's visage will also
be marred, and the world will see no beauty in him
that is to be desired. Christian is in his service
to the world like the chimney which is lined all
over with black, but long after the house is
burned it alone stands.
1381.
When a man begins to fear for himself he is
ready for Christ ; when he ceases to fear for himself,
Christ is ready for him.
1382.
The magnetic needle vibrates only as long
as two opposing forces affect it; it rests soon
enough when one is withdrawn. But its very
vibration is due to its faithfulness to the north
star. The needle is only type of the vibrations
of Christian.
15
220 APHORISMS
1383-
Two things are required of a well: it must not
freeze in winter, it must not run dry in summer.
Two things are required of piety: it must not
be chilled by adversity, it must not wither with
prosperity.
1384.
Christianity was mature in its childhood;
Christendom is childish in its maturity.
1385.
It is the sun that raises the fog which obscures
it. It is the munificence of Christians which
sustains agnostic professors.
1386.
Humanitarianism is like the car detached from
the engine: may shelter, but cannot move you.
Christianity is the car with the engine on.
1387.
Christianity has suffered little from those who
bear not the name of Christ, it has suffered
much from those who do. The sun is obscured
not by other stars, but by the fog it raises itself.
Folk tell me my religion, the Christian religion
is narrow. But they see only the fence round my
garden, while I am after the flowers raised therein.
1389.
To bear the Master's image, Christian also like
the wax, must first be melted.
1390.
The secret of Christian's life is to walk upon a
narrow path with a wide heart.
CHRISTIANITY, TRUE RELIGION 22 1
1391-
The true Christian is like the figure 6. Turning
it upside down, only increases its value.
1392.
The puddle does not contain the heavens,
but it can reflect them. What if I have not
the Master's power? I can still reflect the
Master's image.
1393-
The pagan is sincere enough if he believes
what he maintains; the Christian is not sincere
enough till he also maintains what he believes.
1394.
A Christian has been defined as a fulfilled man.
If filled with the Spirit, yes; otherwise Christian
is first of all an emptied man.
1395-
Since the blood of Christ has been shed for
us we need not always condemn ourselves; but
since the blood of Christ yet pleads for us we
must ever still suspect ourselves.
1396.
Christian has God for his silent partner, who
furnishes the capital, but leaves it to man to
carry on the business. Man was meant to double,
fivefold, tenfold his endowment, but only by the
mercy of God does he barely escape bankruptcy.
1397.
The non-Christian must either conquer circum-
stances or be conquered by them. Christian
must live in circumstance.
2 22 APHORISMS
1398.
Wise prayer asks that in the supplicant's case
two and two ever remain four. Foolish prayer
asks that they become at least five.
1399.
Man's daily task is to diminish what he has in
common with the beast, to increase what he has
in common with God.
1400.
Keep on rising — you will at last find yourself
alone, but with God. Keep on sinking — you
will at last find yourself not alone, but with
Satan.
1 40 1.
The Bible, like the star, was not meant to dis-
pel the darkness, but it was meant to guide the
mariner.
1402.
To believe all the Bible tells needs only a
little faith, to do all the Bible bids needs much
sight.
1403.
The Bible is the only book that furnishes not
only a photographic gallery for every one of the
race, but also a list of the stations on whatever
road one may be travelling. The gallery is
indeed a rogue's gallery, but the way it leads on is
from Satan's prison unto God's throne.
1404.
Waters in Scripture symbolise the powers
of the world, because they run down hill; never
CHRISTIANITY, TRUE RELIGION 223
up. Water in scripture also symbolises the word
of God : because it descends earthward in visible
showers, and ascends heavenward in invisible
vapor.
1405.
The most helpful commentary on the Bible is
affliction.
1406.
Literature, is my gymnasium — I only go there to
stir up my blood. The Bible is my pantry — I go
there for something to eat.
1407.
Washed you may be in water, cleansed you
must be in blood.
1408.
Many a preacher is to the kingdom what the
bell is to the Church: calls others to come, but
enters not itself.
1409.
For a long time I could not believe that preachers
of the Gospel could themselves be unbelievers
until I observed that the spoon can convey the
soup it cannot taste.
1410.
The Gospel, long after it has lost its power
in the heart of man still lingers in his life: like
the accompaniment which continues to be
played some time after the song itself is ended.
1411.
Higher criticism is a torrent : which rising in the
mountain may be harmless to the mountain, but it
is sure to bring devastation to the valley.
224 ATHORISMS
1412.
True religion should enable us not so much to
overpower our enemies as to win them; like the
wings of the ostrich: which enable it to overtake
what it pursues, but not to fly over it.
1413-
That is true science which teaches that we do
not know; that is true religion which teaches us
that we do know.
1414.
Two great enemies of pure religion: forms,
formulae.
1415-
Education does not even mend nature, religion
changes it.
1416.
To die for their religion many are ready ; to live
for it, few. It is easier to die bravely than to
live bravely.
1417.
Men are religious naturally, they are Christian
supernaturally.
1418.
Religion offers no immunity from storms,
it does offer an anchor in the storm.
1419.
Morality is a vestibule to religion, but with the
door bolted inside.
1420.
Mere morality is a pyramid : broad where earth
is touched, a mere point heavenward. True
religion is the reverse: touches earth at a mere
point, but its vast base is grounded in heaven.
CHRISTIANITY, TRUE RELIGION 225
1421.
It may cost much to be religious now. It will
cost more later not to be.
1422.
Many things give zest and flavor to food,
religion alone gives zest and flavor to life.
1423.
Religion alone truly separates from the world,
religion alone truly unites to the world.
1424.
When born religion rushes through the head to
get to the heart. When it dies religion lingers
in the head long after it has left the heart.
1425.
Religious incredulity is only misdirected cre-
dulity.
1426.
When Theological bric-a-brac becomes useless,
and is to be removed, science engages the bull,
literature the monkey ; religion calls in the house-
wife.
1427.
Religion must begin with binding us to the
power of God, but it must not end till it binds
vis to the frailty of man.
1428.
True religion is to be filial toward God, fraternal
toward man.
1429.
Men truly pray only for what they persistently
work for.
226 APHORISMS
I43O.
No prayer reaches the height without a groan,
no groan reaches its depth without a prayer.
1431.
In the street you may learn his manners; at
home, his breeding; at church you may learn his
creed; in the shop, his religion.
1432.
None are in such need of change by religion as
those eager to change the Christian religion.
1433-
To be fit for earth you must have once been in
the heavenlies.
I434-
For heaven's opportunities men are too slow;
for heaven's rewards men are too fast.
1435-
Where heaven is you need not know till later.
Where your heaven is you must know at once.
1436.
What are we to do with an eternal life if
we know not how to use best our brief life here?
1437-
To be on the way to heaven is already to be
partly in heaven.
1438.
The way to the heavenly sublime is through the
earthly ridiculous.
1439.
Heaven for those who merely think thereon?
It is not yet even for those who merely sigh there-
for. Heaven is for those who first die for it and
then live for it.
CHRISTIANITY, TRUE RELIGION 227
1440.
Two things hide the stars : : the light of the day,
the clouds of the night. Two men forget God:
the prosperous Christian, the failed worldling.
1441.
It is the mark of true holiness that it at once at-
tracts and repels.
1442.
Earthly prizes men mostly lose because of
the worthiness of others ; heavenly prizes men lose
always only because of the unworthiness of them-
selves.
1443-
Covetousness of the earthly is a vice; of the
heavenly, a virtue.
1444.
To be truly holy a man must have known
sin as deep as holiness is high. The height
of the tree is in proportion to its depth.
1445.
The theologian is apt to be made by his temper-
ament, the man of God becomes one in spite of
his temperament.
1446.
When you can greet a stranger with an inward
God bless you ! the blesser is not far off.
1447.
For witnessing two are needful, three are
enough. "At the mouth of two or three witnesses
shall every word be established." But as only
that is truly enough which is a little more than
enough, a fourth is added. Hence four Gospels
where one was not sufficient, two are needful, and
three were enough.
228 APHORISMS
I448.
Men are seldom as good as their religion, always
as bad as their irreligion.
1449.
Their religion men are apt to use as they use
their life preservers: only during the storm.
1450.
To shed judiciously one's blood for men after
Christ has done it is now quite easy. To shed
one's ink judiciously for men after the Bible
has been written is now quite hard.
I45 1 -
True religion like the rope of the Royal Navy
is distinguished by the scarlet thread which runs
through its every part.
1452.
Christian, like the miser, always lives poor that
he may die rich; but unlike the miser, Christian
takes his riches with him.
I453-
Christian is like Cyprian wine: purest indeed
when white; but becomes such only after being
red.
1454.
Men clamor for religious liberty; they mean
irreligious liberty.
1455-
The town in which the writer lives bears the
name of Grafton; some five miles southeast
therefrom is the town of Upton, and a railroad
called the Grafton and Upton connects them.
CHRISTIANITY, TRUE RELIGION 229
One day the superintendent of the railway had
occasion to write to the inspector of steam roads.
In reply he received a letter giving the needed
information, but signed " Grafton Upton." The
Grafton and Upton railway, being some twelve
miles long, is the smallest in the State of Massa-
chusetts, and its officials are frequently joked
about the size of the road. The superintendent,
on receiving the communication signed Grafton
and Upton, at once sat down and warmly remon-
strated with the inspector for so far forgetting
his dignity as to sign an official communication
with ' ' Grafton Upton . ' '
A reply came, stating that neither joke nor
discourtesy was intended; that the inspector had
simply the good or bad fortune of having for his
name actually Grafton Upton.
The mistake of the superintendent was natural ;
the chance that a man's name would have the
same combination as that of the very road he was
officially to inspect, seems, a priori, infinitesimal.
Yet that chance did occur; a striking lesson of
the foolishness of judging on any evidence short of
actual knowledge.
1456.
To overestimate one's merits is conceit; but to
underrate them is not yet modesty, it is only igno-
rance. Modesty is only that which appraises
one's own merit at its true worth. Newton did
not disparage that genius of his which discovered
gravitation, but he did describe his work as merely
gathering pebbles on the shore of the ocean of
knowledge.
230 APHORISMS
1457-
It is a mark of the heavenly origin of the re-
ligion of Christ, that its God permits Himself to
be painted therein, as Cromwell wished his por-
trait to be painted — with the wart on. That
which so repels mere man, the Cross, the Blood.
which, in order to win men, a man-made God
would fain leave out, is made the chief est of its
pillars.
1458.
The chief value of great men is in reminding us
that by no manner of means can we become like
them. That, if we are to be great ourselves, it
must be not in their way, but in ours. The great
man whose like I can become is not yet the great
man.
If you are a modern St. Bernard, then, my
friend, I had better learn what you are about to
teach me, not from you, but from St. Bernard.
If your book is, as the critics tell me, a modern
chapter from ''The Imitation of Christ," then I
can safely leave your book with the critic's opinion
about it, and betake myself to "The Imitation of
Christ" instead.
In so far as you remind me of anyone else, how-
ever strong, however skilful, in so far you are
weak. Your strength must lie only in the fact
that none other is like you. "Never man spake
thus," was the true literary criticism of the dis-
courses of Christ. They did not remind His
hearers of Rabbi Hillel, or Gamaliel. "Since the
world began it was never heard that anyone
opened the eyes of a man born blind," was sounder
criticism than "A new Elijah has arisen."
There is only One into whose image we are to be
.
CHRISTIANITY, TRUE RELIGION 23 1
fashioned. And we are to be fashioned into His
image, not because He is the greatest of men, but
because He alone of all men was also at the
same time God.
1459-
Without the word of God man is only a traveller
wandering without map or guide in a strange land
in search of hid treasure. If by some good fortune
he at last reach it at all, it is only after much
aimless wandering and search. With God's word
man is a traveller who carries with him the map,
with the chief features of the lands he is to traverse
carefully noted. Earthly maps may still omit
much, or even be inaccurate, and thus cause the
wandered now and then to be out of his way ; but
even thus the map itself soon apprises him thereof,
and affords the means of correcting the very error
caused by its own imperfections. But the map
from heaven, the word of God, has not even this
imperfection therein.
1460.
Right and wrong are in nowise fixtures; and
whatever rhetorical force there be in the phrases
Eternal Verities and Everlasting Righteousness
can well bear a goodly microscopic look thereat.
Right and wrong must ever remain mere relative
terms if the wisdom of man is to be the sole
standard. The only fixity here is, that to violate
the known and revealed will of God, known in
nature, revealed in Holy Writ — this is surely
wrong. All else is mere metaphysical suspense,
mere drifting. What is right to-day may be
wrong to-morrow; what is right here may be
wrong there ; what is right for thee may be wrong
232 APHORISMS
for me. Nay, the great God Himself commands
in His Book as right one day what He forbids as
wrong in another. Even the same deed may be
right and wrong ; right for God to ordain ; wrong
for man to carry out. That His Son be crucified
God surely foreordained; that Judas carry out
what is foreordained concerning himself and the
Christ only sends him to his own place. "It must
needs be that offences come" is God's right.
"But woe unto him through whom they come" is
man's wrong. God's purpose is ever right. His
own appointed man's carrying out may oft be
wrong.
1461.
Thus it comes to pass that apart from Holy
Writ — obedience to which, when once understood,
is paramount — it behooves men to walk rather
softly in the matter of right and wrong. With
yourself you can afford to be exacting even to the
last drop of blood; but with others — beware lest
even the one superfluous drop exacted cry out
against thee on the great and terrible day of the
Lord. If wrong makes cowards of men in the end,
pseudo-right makes tyrants of them at the start.
And of all tyrannies, that of self-satisfied being in
the right, unfortified by Holy Writ, is the most
tyrannous.
1462.
The horse is the ideal Mohammedan; when
whipped, it submits. The Mohammedan submits
because he has to; Christian submits because he
wishes to. The Hindu is resigned because he is
hopeless, Christian is resigned because he hath
hope.
CHRISTIANITY, TRUE RELIGION 233
1463.
The first thing implanted into those newly born
of the Spirit is a hitherto unknown joy in the ap-
prehension of the Truth, in the newly found
knowledge of God. This joy does not always
abide; but its whilom presence is the reason for
faith during those seasons when joy, at best only
■a rare visitor, has taken her but too frequent
departure.
1464.
God nowhere promises that if men obey Him
evil shall cease. He does promise that if men
obey Him, evil shall cease for — them. Reformers
ever start out to what they call make the world
better, a rather problematic undertaking for aught
short of omnipotence. Whereas every one can
diminish the number of evildoers by beginning,
not with the world, but with himself. God has
declared that the world cannot be made better
from within. Whate'er mending so far done
herein had to come not from within, but from above
the world. The world itself is not Light, but
darkness; "I am the Light of the world," had to
be said by Him who is not of the world. And all
the disciple can do is not to make the world other
than it is — Darkness — but to become himself a
light of the world. Christian is here first to keep-
himself alive in the midst of death around him,
and by his life be a witness unto the One Way of
Life for such as recognizing their own death, yearn
for the Life which is Life indeed.
1465.
With all the evolution and progress of species,
Human Nature ever remains the same Pandora
234 APHORISMS
Box with its lid only temporarily on; the same
volcano with only the night-cap on. And no
civilization, no science, no art has yet been dis-
covered that can prevent the lid from now and
then coming off, the volcano-cap from periodical
blowing off. So that Jew-baiting in darkest
Russia is matched by negro hatred in brightest
America; Armenian massacre under the un-
speakable Turk, by Congo chopping-off of hands
under highly European Belgians.
1466.
Christianity at once gives notice unto men that
unless their eyes be anointed they cannot see its
truth, unless their ears be circumcised they cannot
hear its truth, unless their hearts be humbled
they cannot appropriate its truth, unless the will
be surrendered they cannot continue in its truth.
Christian therefore can indeed belong to the
multitude and be with the myriads that follow
the Master because of His mighty works, or even
the loaves and the fishes. But to be His disciples,
His learners, receiving from Him not the things
which He dispenseth to all freely as He goeth
about, but to the fewer as He sitteth down — they
must follow Him up to the mount, even at the
expense of some weariness of the flesh.
1467.
Christianity, whose first law is that man walk
not by sight but by faith, does not pretend to give
answer to the problems of life that press for solu-
tion. The problems are indeed real, but the
answer thereto in man's way is not ever needful.
As for fevers Christianity offereth not quinine,
but cleansed blood which makes fevers impossible,
CHRISTIANITY, TRUE RELIGION 235
and quinine needless, so it offers not so much
solutions of problems, as a trustful spirit before
God — before Him, in whose presence problems
vanish. Christianity thus offers a clue which if a
man follow will in time lead him out of the laby-
rinth; but if he follow it not, he is doomed for aye
to wander, and to be devoured by the monster
dwelling therein. But the following of the clue is
slow, and the journey through the labyrinth long;
while man, ever pressing onward from sheer
restlessness would fain take the gates of heaven
by storm. But heaven is to be stormed neither
by the Self -Reliance of Emerson, nor by the self-
abandonment of Carlyle ; neither by the humani-
tarianism of Ruskin, nor by the culture of Arnold,
nor even by the self-effacement of Tolstoy.
Heaven is to be stormed solely by self-abasement
before God through Christ, by self-abandonment
unto God in Christ.
1468.
Christianity is indeed a democracy where all
are equal, but it is an equality before God, not
men; it is equality not so much of rights as of
duties, not so much of privileges for enjoying as
of privileges for enduring; as much of dying for
one another as of living for one another. Democ-
racy is a manner of rule where each shall be able
to get the most out of the other, Christianity offers
a mode of life where each shall endeavor to put
the most into the other; remembering the words
spoken : It is more blessed to give than to receive.
1469.
Christianity indeed commands its disciples to
toil: Let each, says the Spirit through Paul, labor
16
236 APHORISMS
with his hands that which is good. Let each man
— not some men; let each labor' — not sit in idle-
ness; let each earn his bread, not so much by his
wits, as by labor of his hands; and let each labor
with his hands, not so much that which is use-
less, or even hurtful, like cannon balls and battle-
ships, but that which is good . . .
1470.
The ancient sage in answer to the question of
the passer-by, How long will it take me to get to
Athens, could only answer: Go! Since the first
requisite to the proper answer was a knowledge of
the gait of the inquirer. In contrary thereto the
first demand of Christianity assumes that re-
gardless of station in life and intellectual equip-
ment, or native endowment, all are headed the
wrong way, are facing the wrong point of the
compass, are going down the broad road that
leadeth to Destruction. And so Christianity
lifteth up its voice unto men in the palace and in
the hovel, to the ruler and to the slave, to the
exalted and to the despised — "Whithersoe'er, O
man, thou art going — Stop !" God ever cries unto
men : Halt ! The road of man is a veritable high-
way which every now and then displays unex-
pectedly a gigantic "Stop!" before him. "Danger
ahead. Look out for the steam cars, Look out for
the electric cars, Look out for the steam-roller,
State Road is building ahead, Dangerous passing
through here! Beware, O man, Stop, Look, Lis-
ten!"
1471.
Christianity is indeed an account of Christ, a
theory about Christ; it is indeed a faith in Christ,
CHRISTIANITY, TRUE RELIGION 237
a witness unto Christ, and a love for Christ: but
that which makes the history of Christ probable,
and the theory about Christ plausible, that which
makes a faith in Christ reasonable and a witness
unto Him possible, that which makes the love for
Christ intelligible, is that the blood of Christ has
been poured out for men, that the risen life of
Christ be put into men.
1472.
Philanthrophy without love unto Christ does for
men what the towel does for the soiled glass; it
wipes off indeed the dust, but it leaves behind a
lint, which obscures the vision through the glass
only less than the dust itself so that the wiping
by the towel must be followed by that with linen
kerchief. The wiping away of the filth of man by
mere philanthropic effort leaves the lint still on
men ; and needs to be followed by the pure linen
kerchief of Christ to make them thoroughly
cleansed.
1473-
Men cannot be made to move by trying to push
their shadows. Move the man, and the shadow
moves also. To reform man's doings without re-
forming the man is to attempt to make powder
less explosive by making it merely smokeless:
But it is not the smoke that makes the powder
explode. All proposed remedies for the ills of
men- — Socialism, Nationalism, Associated Chari-
ties, Single Tax — begin with the pushing of the
shadow. All these are honest attempts to put out
the fire by turning the bellows against the smoke.
Hence, though poor human nature hath never yet
lacked right earnest philanthropy, philanthropic
238 APHORISMS
Dame Partington is ever still kept busy sweeping
away Atlantic Ocean with mop and broom.
1474.
To remedy the ills of men, not circumstances
must be changed, but men : and for changing men
is needful, not best equipped earthly machinery
(even though it be run by pity and love) , but that
grace from heaven which is given in answer to
bended knees rather than to full hands. Christ
alone can change men, and only those who through
Christ have been cleansed by His blood from the
past, have died through His cross unto the pres-
ent, have risen through His resurrection unto the
newness of life in the future. All else is mere en-
deavor to retard the earth in its swiftness of course
as it rolleth on some one thousand miles an hour.
1475-
The sole trouble with all optimism is that it has
not yet seen sorrow, has not yet seen sorrow
enough. And in God's great universe, whate'er
else is unreal, sorrow is real. If the babe as he
cometh into the world may be uttering his cry, if
not of immediate pain, at least of prophetic sor-
row, the mother at the incoming of every man
into the world knoweth with the proof of the bit-
terest agony that the command "I will greatly
multiply thy pain and thy conception. In pain
thou shalt bring forth children," was not the
mere raving of an oriental tribal God, as the
Harvard Professor, with his eyes gazing upon the
motto on its every wall — Veritas, Christo and
Ecclesiae — so flatulently styles Him; but every
mother knows that this is the ever recurring,
never ending verification of the word of Him
CHRISTIANITY, TRUE RELIGION 239
whose goings forth are from Everlasting to Ever-
lasting. Optimism is all well, when Jeshurun is
fat, and he can indeed kick; and gambol as the
calf in the stall; but when there is need of bitter
crying and tears, lest otherwise the heart break
for silence, then, indeed, bridge whist may drown
the sorrow for an hour, the bare-bosomed prima-
donna for two, and be-swallow-tailed Browning
lecturer for two and one-half hours, but the lasting
comfort is not to be found until the soul can cry
out triumphantly:
Thou art my refuge, Thou art my God;
In Thee alone do I put my trust.
1476.
Next to the science of keeping well, is the science
of getting well. As a practical science, therefore,
medicine, covering as it does both needs, is indeed
the needfullest; yet, after some sixty centuries of
experience with the ills of flesh, Wendell Holmes
can still say unto men : If all the medicines were
cast into the sea, mankind would be much the
better off, though it would be so much the worse
for the fish. And after some centuries now of real
experimental science, and the therapeutics and
anatomizings and inoculations, Christian Science,
so-called, can still vociferate, not without some
show of justice, that the seat of bodily ailments is
after all not so much in the flesh as in the spirit . . .
1477.
And the Sarsaparillas, and the pills, and the
pellets, and the powders and the waters, for the
Spirit are not to be discovered in the chemist's
laboratory, or on the anatomist's table, or in the
current through Ley den jars . . .
240 APHORISMS
1478.
Man hath indeed been driven out of paradise,
but the gate of paradise hath in no wise been shut
against him. The tree of life in the midst of the
Garden hath in nowise been allowed to wither.
Rather the contrary : the tree of life is still in the
midst of the garden, and the garden is still open
unto men, only it is to be entered not in man's
way, but in God's way; not through the broad
road, but by the narrow path ; not through many
gates, but through the one gate, that of the East,
past the cherubim; and the tree of life can be
reached only through the flame of the sword that
turneth every way . . .
1479.
But man has ever been prone to follow not
God's ways but his own ways.
1480.
Adam covers his nakedness not with the heaven-
supplied goatskin got through the shedding of
blood; but with his own made fig-leaf with no
blood therein ; and the law of heaven is : Without
shedding of blood is no remission. Cain offers
not the firstling of the flock, with the shed blood,
but the bloodless fruit of the ground ; and the law
of heaven is: Without the shedding of blood is
no remission. The builders of the Tower of
Babel say, Come, let us make us a name, and
climb to heaven in a way other than the God-
appointed one ; but the law of heaven is : Without
the shedding of blood is no remission. And so the
history of man is ever : God calling unto men to
follow His way, the way of the cross; men ever
CHRISTIANITY, TRUE RELIGION 241
seeking to reconquer Paradise in their own way,
the way of the crown. But God ever calls unto
men: "As the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are My ways higher than yours. As the east
is far from the west, so are my ways removed
from yours."
1481.
Christianity, like Omar of old, can also afford
to burn the whole of the Alexandrian library, and
for precisely the same reason. If. the books are
against the Bible they are useless; if they cor-
roborate the Bible, they are needless. But there
is this difference between the spirit of Mahomet
and the spirit of Christ. Omar, for this reason,
good in itself, forthwith burns the library, thus
becoming the executor of his own wisdom. Chris-
tian is content to leave to God the execution of
this corollary of his own thought, and considers
this useless library as part of the great world of
which he is no wise part, however much he be in
it. A world, which even he in due time may yet
use, if so it be that he abuse it not. The Moham-
medan is thus stern because he still fears what is
not useful to his truth. Christian is equally stern,
but he has no fear for his truth; and with that
perfect love which casteth out fear he can well
afford to be liberal even to the books that oppose
his Book.
1482.
The Capitol at Washington cannot be exploded
by a bundle of matches, though a goodly quantity
of dynamite may. And the Christian religion has
hitherto been assailed only with matches. The
explosive that alone can shatter its fortresses has
not yet been discovered, though for some eighteen
242 APHORISMS
centuries folk have been busy with the invention
thereof. Let them go on seeking, they shall not
find, for He that hath said: "Upon this rock I
build my church and the gates of Hades shall not
prevail against it," was also the one of whom it
abideth eternally true: " Heaven and earth shall
pass away, but my words shall not pass away."
1483.
Men are hardly ever brought to Christ by ex-
ternal evidence. "No one cometh unto me except
the Father draw him," is the primary law, and
the external or historical evidences of the truth of
Christianity are thus at best not the compelling
power itself but the line along which the com-
pelling power works. The evidences that appeal
to the reason, to the emotions, to the will, are not
yet the moving current itself, but only the wave
along which the current runs. Our hearts, like
that of Lydia of old, have first to be opened by
the grace of God, ere the evidence can at all have
lodgement within them.
We know that had we, left to our own selves,
been waiting for proof, evidence, and the rest, we
should still be waiting for it till now. We thus
know that if we believe on our Lord to-day it is
because God drew us unto Himself through His
Son, and it was by Him that our hearts were first
opened to receive the Word of Life ; and our eyes
opened, so that we can say, Whereas before we
were blind, we now do see. We, in short, though
all outward evidence were to fail us, have the
evidence within that Christ is the Son of the
Living God, since flesh and blood cannot reveal
this rock of the Christ's church, this goodly con-
CHRISTIANITY, TRUE RELIGION 243
fession, but only the Father which is in heaven.
We have the witness within, the Spirit bearing
witness with our spirit that Christ is the Saviour
from sin, that the Bible is His book.
But howe'er sure this subjective experience of
ours, it cannot be binding upon others. They
must have reasons binding upon them, or they
must have the same subjective experience as our-
selves. Our faith to be proved unto them as true
must be proved unto them not by reasons which
are only subjective to us — in which case they
would only be resting upon their trust in us — but
also objective to them. Now, believers are in
danger of magnifying their own subjective evi-
dence; unbelievers are in peril of minimizing the
objective evidences for the truths of Christianity,
which if candidly examined are enough to be
decisive even in a case of a capital crime before
a jury.
1484.
The objective reasons are as compelling of
assent as the corollaries of the propositions of
Euclid. And while it is true that when the present
gainsayers of the faith are at last convinced,
it will, like our own whilom conviction, be
brought about by subjective experiences like our
own, rather than by external evidences ; by light
from above rather than by conviction from with-
out; yet when the truth is rejected by them
these reasons, compelling as they would be to an
unsullied heart, will testify against them on the
great day of the Lord ; and their defence : I for-
sooth sought light, but it came not nigh me, was
not brought to me — is forever barred.
244 APHORISMS
1485.
Unlike the millionaire benefactor who gives a
million on condition that another million be
raised by their own efforts, God's grace is at first
offered free and unconditional. It is only when
man has already become alive unto God through
the acceptance of that gift, that God becomes no
longer unlike the millionaire, but like him, and
offers His new million on condition that the re-
ceiver now raise his own million. The Holy
Spirit, the one talent, is entrusted that more tal-
ents be made therewith, ten if need be, five if
possible, but at least one other as the minimum.
i486.
The law is : First the natural, then the spiritual.
Men must indeed begin with obeying even the
letter of the Sermon on the Mount — even to the
extent of giving to the child the razor it asks for;
but this only so long as you also are a child, and
know not as yet how to discern the things that
differ. But when thou too art become a man,
then thou art free, being now led of the Spirit,
and then thou canst afford no longer to obey the
letter which killeth . . . This distinction
Tolstoy who ever remains a babe has not learned.
1487.
The idea of a Christian state before the return
of Jesus to reign in person rests on a misunder-
standing of Christianity as well as of the state,
Christianity recognizes the state, but only as
something different from itself, at times even
hostile to itself, and therefore it commands to
pray for the state, just as it commands to pray
CHRISTIANITY, TRUE RELIGION 245
for enemies. The state is appointed of heaven to
bear the sword, Christianity threatens that those
who take up the sword shall perish by the sword.
Michael and Satan belong to opposing hosts.
But Michael recognizes Satan, and when rebuke
him he must, he rebukes him only in the name of
the Lord, giving him his due as one who has re-
ceived his authority from God.
1488.
Tolstoyism, Socialism and even Fors Clavigera,
are at bottom only zealous attempts to bring in
everlasting righteousness without the Righteous
One; Peace without the Prince of Peace; the
Kingdom without the King ; an attempt to make
man Lord of Creation without Him who is Lord
of Lords.
Peace, blessed be God, there is indeed already
now on earth, but it is only for those of whom it
hath been said Thou wilt keep him in perfect
peace whose mind is stayed on Thee ; and, Great
peace have they that love Thy law. This for the
individual; and there is also a peace for the mass ;
but not until He reigneth of whom it hath been
foretold that a King shall reign in righteousness.
1489.
Christian Socialism is an attempt on the part of
many who profess the name of our Lord, to bring
about worldly comforts for all by means of the
spread of the teachings of the Master, so that all
shall have abundance of food, raiment, shelter,
leisure, books, theatres, lectures, culture — worldly
happiness in short. But to make His disciples
"comfortable" in food, raiment and shelter, as
the world understands comfort, never was the
246 APHORLSMS
intent of the Master. He Himself had no place to
lay His head, though the foxes, and the birds of
the air, who without Him were not created, have
their holes and nests. He bids His apostles go
forth without purse, scrip or change of garment.
And, moreover, He promised that the poor we
shall always have with us, so that the abolition of
"poverty," as the world understands poverty, was
not what the Master came for. He expressly told
His disciples that in the world they shall have
tribulation. He makes His disciples rich by
making them care little about comforts whether of
body or mind, and they thus cease to be a factor
in Christian life. If a disciple of the Master is
called into a palace, he praises the Lord; if called
into a hovel, he praises likewise. If fed three
meals a day, the disciple giveth thanks; if fed
once, the disciple giveth thanks likewise. For
our Father knoweth the things we are in need of.
If Christians have no ' 'comforts," it is because
their Father knoweth that of these they are not
in need.
1490.
Christian Socialism is, therefore, a movement
based on a fundamental misconception of what
our Lord came to do and to teach. If this earth
were to be man's permanent abode as he now is,
the search for comforts and for the means of
bringing about universal happiness would be to
the purpose. But this earth is for Christian a
mere passenger station the disciple is here a mere
sojourner, until the Lord come to take His own
into the mansions prepared for them. "My king-
dom is not of this world," says our Lord; and the
church of Christ says with Paul : "Our citizenship
CHRISTIANITY, TRUE RELIGION 247
is in heaven." So that the energies spent by
Christians in endeavoring to establish now be-
fore the Lord come (when there shall indeed be a
new earth) an age of physical and intellectual
comforts for all, are devoted to the things of the
flesh, and the Lord Christ came to enable men to
walk in the Spirit which ever lusteth against the
flesh.
1491.
What marks the Christ as the greatest psychol-
ogist is among other things, the order of His five
"Ye have heard's" in the Sermon on the Mount.
He is there indirectly showing the impossibility of
mending the natural man, the old man : that what
is needed is not a mending, a patching up of flesh
with spirit, but a new birth, a new creation from
above, preceded by a death, not only to our bad
selves, but also to our good selves. Accordingly,
the first three "Ye have heard's" deal with the
need of dying to the bad self — anger, lust, corrup-
tion of heart as attested by idle words. But re-
sisting wrong, and hatred of enemies, the sub-
jects of the last two "Ye have heards," are not
vicious things, they are virtuous things. Without
the one it is impossible to assert oneself as* a man ;
without the other it becomes impossible to assert
oneself as a citizen. And mere human society
would at once collapse without these two virtues.
But the Christ came to found not an earthly so-
ciety, howe'er ideal, but a heavenly one; hence,
He insists that these men must die even to their
best selves, for even the best of earth is still earth
and not heaven. For heaven things must become
altogether new. Old wine in old wine skins, but
new wine in new wineskins.
248 APHORISMS
1492.
Indignation, therefore — the root of the last two
"Ye have heards" — as a mere earthly thing, is
rather laudable; at its best it is even a noble
thing, for it is then essentially only love inverted,
or wrong end to. But even this bit of excellent
earth is unfit for heaven, since oftenest it is the
combination of two of the most heinous sins of
man; of anger, the greatest fault of the heart,
(it being embryonic murder) ; and of condemna-
tion, the greatest fault of the head, since it is a
sort of full-fledged self -righteousness. The one is
the sin against Love, the supreme law betwixt
man and his fellow; the other is the sin against
Humility, the supreme law between man and his
Maker.
1493-
But, even at its best, Indignation is still es-
sentially a judgment, a condemnation. For all
indignation with men, even when most righteous
is due largely to the expectation of better things
from them; so much so that if men but knew it
they would consider indignation against them a
kind of -compliment to them. As soon as we see
that what we look for is not there, we are no
longer indignant, we only pity. I am not indig-
nant with the ox for chewing his cud, howe'er
graceless the motion of his jaw, though I am in-
dignant with my masculine fellow for chewing his
weed, and with my feminine fellow for chewing
her gum. The ox is only doing what is ox-like;
these are not doing what is manlike, womanlike.
Of the ox, I expect only oxy things; of men and
women I expect human things . . .
CHRISTIANITY, TRUE RELIGION 249
1494.
I used to be indignant with the hard, cold, self-
satisfied Philistine. I now almost love that dear,
hard, cold, self -satisfied Philistine. It is only the
ox chewing his cud . . .
1495-
Religion is the one land that cannot be visited
for mere sightseeing. One must move thither for
permanent abode.
1496.
A Christian metaphysician is a mesalliance be-
tween a good intellect and bad piety.
1497.
All other nations have made their gods. Zeus
was a Greek; Mars, a Roman; Thor, a Norse.
The Jews alone did not make Jehovah : the God
of Mercy and Vengeance. The God who uttered
upon His chosen people the curses of Leviticus
and Deuteronomy was not made by a Jew.
1498.
Barbarian, Greek, Jew, Christian: The bar-
barian had no wisdom; the Greek had its ele-
ments; the Jew had its substance; Christianity
has its perfections.
1499.
A man is not fit for heaven till he finds earth
too large for him first, too small for him after-
wards.
1500.
A man's religion may not always be a comfort
to himself, but if true it will always enable him to
be a comfort to others.
250 APHORISMS
I50I.
As to their worldly station mankind consists of
those in the blue book and those without. As to
their heavenly station, the division is between
those in the red book and those without.
1502.
The distance from earth to heaven is infinite
and can be bridged only by God. The distance
from heaven to earth is but a span, and can be
reached by any suppliant hand.
1503-
Eternal life can be gained only by recognizing
God. It may be lost by ignoring Satan.
1504.
The door to heaven must be forced. The door
to hell needs no forcing. It opens of itself as soon
as man places his whole weight thereon.
The light of Christ in the disciple is like the
screen in the banker's window; enables those
within to look out, prevents those without from
looking in.
1506.
The road to heaven is equally long from every
point. The road to hell equally short.
1507-
There is certainly the divine in man. It is only
a question whether the divine is in every man.
1508.
Happy he who hath a friend in need; but
happier he who hath Him for friend that maketh
friends needless.
CHRISTIANITY, TRUE RELIGION 25 1
ISOQ.
Greatness in the world is like the lofty mount :
can be seen from afar, with glories of sun and
cloud playing thereon, but without refreshing the
weary. Greatness in the Kingdom is like the
deep well : can be seen only close by, with only a
bit of sky playing therein, but it quenches the
thirst.
1510.
True religion adorns a man's life, his life cannot
demean the true religion. The flower gives frag-
rance to the pot ; the meanness of the pot detracts
nothing from the flower.
1511.
That is true religion which enables even the
poor to become givers, even the rich to become
receivers.
1512.
All that is bad in us is ours. All that is good in
us is only a loan from above to become ours with
interest by good use of the principal.
In our talk to men we need a smiling face to
show forth our love. In our talk to God we need
first, a tearful face to show forth our fear, and then
a cheerful face to show forth our trust.
The Christian life is also a profession to be
learned. Acknowledgment of one's ignorance is
its primary school; willingness to obey, its gram-
mar school ; and diligence in the pursuit of the goal ,
its high school.
17
252 APHORISMS
1515.
The evidences of Christianity that were never
meant to be out of print are the lives of Christians.
1516.
Christian's life was meant to be not so much
like the European Station where the agent is
settled with his household ; rather like the Ameri-
can Station, planned only for the passengers'
getting on or off.
The less men know the harder they find it to
believe the natural; the more they know the
easier they believe the supernatural.
1518.
True health requires a healthy soul in a healthy
body. It is a mark of man's fallen state that
many a soul can be kept healthy only while con-
fined in a sick body.
To see earth we must open our eyes ; to behold
heaven we must shut them.
1520.
To the unregenerate the Bible is a mere checker-
board with squares of alternative black and white.
But the regenerate is taught of the Spirit which
are the squares to be played upon.
1521.
The non-Christian must either conquer circum-
stances or be conquered by them. Christian must
conquer in circumstance.
CHRISTIANITY, TRUE RELIGION 253
1522.
The difference between true Christianity and
its counterfeit is this : both recognize sin and the
need of washing it away. But the one demands
for it nothing short of Blood; the other is content
with rosewater.
1523.
To be a miniature Christ is the only way to be
a great Christian.
i5 2 4.
"You cannot guide the multitude without de-
ceiving it," said the wisest of the Greeks. And
truly enough, if it is to be guided without com-
mission from above. It is a mark of the divine
commission of Moses and the Christ that the one
did guide God's chosen visible host, that the other
does guide God's chosen invisible host — without
deceiving . . .
1525-
Every un-Christian teacher, howe'er high his
aim, is at best only a kite: flies and soars, and
even dashes now and then straight for the heavens
— but that string ! . . .
1526.
Culture is like a fire in the grate : shines, and
warms your front, but leaves cold your back.
Religion is like the oven wall; the fire is out of
sight, but one can lean against the wall, and be
warmed from head to foot.
1527.
Both culture and religion may leave a man
angular; but culture leaves him a mere triangle;
religion doubles him, and leaves him four-square
for awhile, rounds him out at last.
254 APHORISMS
I S 28.
Culture makes the round man, religion the
square man. Culture, like a sphere, rests on only
one point. Religion, like a cube, rests on a whole
surface.
1529'.
The dear critics — they mean well! — ask me to
give up Moses to save John. Well, Philip of
Macedon asked the Athenians to give up the dogs
to the wolves to save the sheep. And he too, dear
Philip, may have meant it quite well . . .
1530-
In the early centuries Christianity suffered
most from its avowed enemies; in the last, from
its professed friends.
i53i-
Are you tempted? Prayer will sustain you.
Have you yielded? Prayer will restore you. Are
you disheartened? Prayer will encourage you.
Are you at last in peace? Prayer will keep it
for you.
i53 2 -
You will have to believe sometime. It is only
a question whether it shall be before sight is lost
or after.
1533-
The simplest way to get to the top of the tall
building is to step into the elevator, and there stand
while lifted on high. The simplest way to get to
the heights of heaven is to step into Christ, and in
Him stand while He too lifts you on high.
CHRISTIANITY, TRUE RELIGION 255
IS34-
All the spiritual ills of men have only two
causes, the confounding of things that differ, the
sundering of things that belong together.
1535-
Does the jury declare the prisoner innocent be-
cause he has been untried? No, rather because he
has been tried and found innocent. Do I believe
Christianity true because it remains untried? No,
rather because I have sat at its trial and have
found it true.
1536.
My friend of the world, whoso you are : Either
Jesus Christ was mistaken or you are. The answer
that neither might be is only evading the issue,
not settling it. But the ages have decided that
Jesus Christ was not mistaken. It is for you to
decide whether you shall continue to be.
1537.
Where the wisest of the heathen says: To be
very good and very rich is impossible, the Son of
Man saith with poise only: How hardly shall
they that have riches enter into the kingdom of
the heavens.
1538.
I am not averse to humanitarianism, but it is
not Christianity, not even Spirituality. Many a
dog has more humanity to him than perhaps two-
thirds of the folk I know. But this does not make
the dog a Christian, though there very likely are
many Christians among these two-thirds.
256 APHORISMS
1539-
Christian like the statue must also ever keep
to his pedestal, only he must not remain equally
immovable.
1540.
The boundaries of the Spartans were on the
points of their spears, and these took them if need
be to the ends of the earth. The boundaries of
Christian are on the points of his prayers, and
these take him to the heights of heaven.
1541-
The typical land of Christian is Switzerland.
He can afford to be as cold as its mountains, if only
as high; as narrow as its valleys, if only as fertile.
1542.
In all else man does well to hold the important
matter back to the last. In his religion alone
Christian must be otherwise. Here he must be
like the notice which at once announces itself that
it is a Notice.
1543-
In the Kingdom there are things permitted,
things forbidden, things tolerated; the last, like
smoking on the cars: only on the rear seats.
1544.
Grace at meat may easily become a cordial.
1545.
I used to wonder at the striking resemblance
of some of the false religions to the true, until I
learned that the difference between the goose and
the swan is only a few inches of neck.
CHRISTIANITY, TRUE RELIGION 257
1546.
Why are the dead raised no more ? Presumption
says, Because the dead do not rise. Meekness
suggests, Because there is no more faith to raise
the dead with. The One who alone could say,
I am the Resurrection and the Life, explains, If
they believe not Moses and the prophets, neither
will they believe though one rose from the dead.
1547
The Bible must be read through at least twice :
first with eyes shut, then with eyes open.
1548.
No binding to the Bible is lasting that is not
sewn together with scarlet thread.
iS49-
Unitarianism is the religion of topheaviness par
excellence.
Which is true, optimism or pessimism? It is a
mark of the heavenliness of the religion of Christ
that, while in the world one must be adherent of
either, Christian must adhere to neither at any
time, to both at all times.
Religion is man forcing himself upon God,
Christianity is God implanting himself in man.
1552.
Christianity does indeed demand from men
belief in its truths; but it is content for a while
with only asking of men doubt of the grounds for
their unbelief.
258 APHORISMS
1553-
Religion, if it make men no better than it finds
them leaves them worse.
1554-
The blood of Christ cleanses if accepted; stains,
if rejected.
I5S5-
Heaven is where'er there is rest from earth
with God.
1556.
Heaven has only one door, though many gates.
The believer errs in limiting the number of the
gates ; the unbeliever, in multiplying the number of
the doors.
ISS7-
Folk think Sunday the day for religion. Sunday
is indeed the day for worship. It is the other six
that are for religion.
1558.
Folk think the object of the thought of heaven
is to improve earth for us. But the thought of
heaven is meant to improve the earth for others
and to spoil it for ourselves.
1559-
In the Kingdom all is God except man. In the
world all is God except God Himself.
1560.
The strings which pull men earthward are
stronger than the ropes which tie them heaven-
ward.
CHRISTIANITY, TRUE RELIGION 259
1561.
The paper entering the press white, but leaving
it black, to begin its usefulness only then — sad
symbol of man's career.
1562.
Paradise begins only in the next life; hell may
begin already in this.
1563-
Of him who has once been in the heavenlies only
the risen baloon is apt type; can return to earth
again only with a collapse.
1564.
In the world when one thinks he can do much
he can at least do something. In the Kingdom
one can only then accomplish something when he
feels that of himself he can do nothing.
1565-
It is a mark of truth that Jesus cries "Thy will
be done!" before "My God, my God, why hast
Thou forsaken me?" Invention would have re-
versed the cries.
1566.
Christianity does not change night into day,
but it does dispel the clouds and restores the stars.
1567.
Black we all are ; only some are bleached blacks.
260 APHORISMS
IS68,
Everyone begins with what God has made him ;
he ends with what he makes himself.
1569.
In his anchor as in all else Christian is the op-
posite of the world. The anchor of his hope is
upward, not downward.
1570.
The heavenly journey is measured not by the
number of miles travelled, but by the height of
the mountains climbed.
IS7I-
The conditional, the optative mood, are frequent
in the Bible, but not the doubtful tenses.
iS72.
Education furnishes only a sword, which is,
however, two-edged. Legislation only clips the
beast's claws, but leaves it still wild. Morality
furnishes clean garments, but these may still
cover a foul heart. Christianity alone cleanses
the heart, tames the beast and wields safely the
sword.
1573-
Both Arion of Herodotus and Jonah of the
Bible are thrown into the sea; but Arion is saved
on a dolphin's back; Jonah, out of the fish's belly.
The dolphin's back is the mark of fiction; the
fish's belly the mark of truth. Invention must
furnish a likely means of escape. Truth can afford
to furnish the farthest from likely.
CHRISTIANITY, TRUE RELIGION 26 1
1574-
Analogy and simile are the most pleasing kind
of writing, because Nature itself is only a type,
and God speaks chiefly through symbols.
I57S-
Between heaven and hell is a gulf that cannot
be bridged ; but on earth they may be so near as to
overlap.
XIX.
PHILOSOPHY, SCIENCE SO-CALLED.
1576.
The modern disease is megalo-Kephalitis ;
a classic Greek, truly orthodox medical term:
in English, big-headedness; in Yankee speech
(which seldom fails to hit the nail on the head,
though often splitting the board at the same
time) swelled head. The disease began articu-
lately enough in the mild, suave, velvet-covered
Channing, but he merely chattered, though at
times he also chirped, of the — Dignity of Man.
In Emerson, however, this dignity of man began
to pipe itself out, with an occasional deep,
hollow basso accompaniment, as the Divinity
of Man. Both Channing and Emerson, however,
had still a goodly number of quarts of honest
Gospel blood in them; generations of Christ in
them still keeping down the self-glorification
that would fain burst to the surface of even these.
Whitman had no such restraint. His was other
blood than theirs. Channing and Emerson had
at least aristocratic, blue blood in their veins,
pulsating therein rather swiftly, with some sort
of noble tumultuousness. Not so Whitman.
His was the skimmed blood, the viscuous gravy
blood; the unadulterated plebeian, democratic,
vulgar blood, with corpuscles of brick red, and
Pittsburg-fog-gray, but without a speck of blue
therein.
1577-
Channing and Emerson had at least a certain
PHILOSOPHY, SCIENCE SO-CALLED 263
jungle dignity and beauty about them; and like
the whole family of felines are ever interesting
to behold in their moments of peace, as long as
they display no mien of transforming their human
beholders into that much steak and chop for
feline supper. On occasion the frail Channing and
gentle Emerson could roar, but their roar had at
least some awe therein. But Whitman . . .
1578.
Kant's Critique of Pure Reason is justly praised
as a noble piece of architecture, a kind of cathedral
of Divisions, subdivisions, sections, paragraphs,
and parentheses, of diverse dimensions and
statures — if all this were only a peptic piece of
utility. If the ailment of Society, butterflydom,
is that it lacks seriousness, the ailment of me-
taphysical owldom is that it takes itself with
altogether too much seriousness. And here as
elsewhere extremes meet. If the frivolous remind
one of the antics of monkeys, metaphysicians can
only remind us of circus — gymnasts. But gym-
nastics, however startling its evolutions, are
after all only antics ; and the metaphysics of even
a Kant are only so many intellectual antics.
Kant, however, was still sober, from a goodly
remnant in him of the sense of religion; and the
insanity of soul, is in him only embryonic. But
what is embryonic in Kant becomes fullfledged
in his diverse intellectual offspring of Schelling
and Hegel, Schopenhauer and Hartmann and
Spencer and James. The graceful play of the
kitten in Kant becomes the capering antics of
the goat in his successors. But, whether harmless
kitten or china-smashing bull, the net sum of
264 APHORISMS
the performance of either is — emptiness. And
life is in nowise meant to be kept empty with
metaphysical windbag fulnesses . . .
1579-
Philosophy has surely its use, as in fact every-
thing conceivable has. The saddest of all
emptinesses, the freshly dug hole in the ground,
with the waiting casket for its fulfilment, has at
least the use of supplying the undertaker with his
porridge and ale. But this does not make grave
digging a desirability in the life of man. Nay,
rightly looked at Gehenna itself has its use . . .
And metaphysics, which has its origin in some one
having made a hole in heaven shortly after that
episode of the Tree of Knowledge, has simply ever
since had for its business the filling in of said hole
in the heavens, with occasional making of new
ones, when it is seen that the old ones cannot be
filled in. Philosophy has indeed high pretension,
its ultimate goal, on paper, is to be a sort of Science
of Science, the Theory of Theory; but in practice
nearly the whole of Philosophy and by far the
largest part of Science, have become a kind of
imperial eagle with two heads ; both supported by
the same body — illegitimate curiosity: the one
peeping uselessly into Universe Invisible, the
other prying needlessly into Universe Visible.
1580.
So-called Science is a body without a head;
philosophy is a head without a body; the one
has feet of gold without a head of even clay; the
other is a head of brass without feet even of iron.
But the combination of the two far from being a
head of brass over feet of gold is, as in Spencer's
PHILOSOPHY, SCIENCE SO-CALLED 265
case only a torso; head gone, arms gone, feet gone.
All attempts at the Scriptural Image of a head
of gold o'er a trunk of silver on feet of iron by
science and philosophy are vain; since this
image is molten only in the crucible of Christ.
1581.
Philosophy has so far been only a vast pyramid
upside down: and the slightest breeze blows it o'er.
It has so far been only a series of card houses
which fall first one against another, and then all
together as soon as even one is seriously touched.
Aristotle leans on Plato, Abelard on Aristotle,
Leibnitz on Abelard, Kant leans on Descartes,
Schopenhauer on Kant, Dr. Abbot on the rest;
when lo, touch at one end, touch at other end,
touch at middle, touch anywhere with the mere
tip of Reality's finger, and forthwith as sys-
tems they collapse with the speed of inflated
industrial stocks on a Black Friday . . .
1582.
Metaphysics is like climbing of Alps or chasing
the North Pole. If the risk of life and limb is
incurred for profitable scientific result, it is indeed
heroic. But if undertaken from, sheer love of
adventure, from sheer Pandoraness, from sheer
desire to do what none else have done before and
thus get a name for oneself, it is but a vain thing, a
dead thing.
1583.
Now much of the theology of the day, nearly all
of the metaphysics, and not a little of its science
is wholly of the latter, ignoble sort.
266 APHORISMS
1584.
Savage is hardly my attitude toward Meta-
physics. As far back as my Sophomore year,
I was already Vice-President (who veritably
vice-presided) of the Harvard Philosophical Club.
And for many succeeding years I was a faithful
attendant upon the lectures of America's might-
iest metaphysician delivered all to myself, at
times far into the wee hours of morn, going over
the length and breadth of its vast domain; from
the isingness of being to the finalities of the finities,
and even to the infinitudes of the Infinities, and
the Everlastingnesses of the Eternities. So that
in the inextinguishable fraternity of philosophers
I am in nowise a first year student, rather a sort
of adept of the thirty and third degree. Speaking
thus from the inside I solemnly assure you, my
friend, that Metaphysics is essentially the science
of putting questions which the healthy do not ask,
the wise do not take up, and the metaphysicians
themselves, after elaborately putting them, do not
answer. Thus where the first plain sick man you
meet knows that pain is an evil, the healthy meta-
physician discusses the question, What is Evil?
Where the first plain man you meet tells you
that if he is useful it is reason enough for his
being here, the metaphysician elaborately dis-
cusses the question, wherefore is man here at all?
1585.
At its best philosophy seeks to establish
by reason what is already known from Revela-
tion: God, Immortality, Duty. It thus seeks
to swim the Mississippi at the very spot where a
bridge already is. But philosophy is seldom thus
PHILOSOPHY, SCIENCE SO-CALLED 267
at its best. Its ordinary business is to give new
names, where science gives new facts; while
religion proves itself ever sufficient by putting the
new facts, where they belong, under the old names.
Metaphysicians have thus honestly tried to re-
move some dust, they have raised new clouds.
And how little of genuine substance is to be
found therein is best seen from this: The utter
impotence of Philosophy with its huge apparatus
in the presence of a single sorrow — the one moment
in life where it could be of utmost use, were any
use at all therein. ' 'Philosophy — guide of Life,"
is its claim. But Philosophy is ever triumphing
over only future, not present ills. Where religion
supports the man, his philosophy has ever to be
supported by the man. At the pangs of childbirth
philosophy is silent, at the grave it is dumb. In
the presence of sin, sickness, of the success of the
wicked, the failure of the righteous, in the pres-
ence in short, of every true problem of Life,
Philosophy ever hobbles bandaged about with
all manner of verbiage. And if perchance a
crumb is handed out at last by it, and a wordlet of
Life does escape its lips, it is invariably found that
these come not from its own store — it has none —
but were taken from the ever abundant store-house
of — Religion . . .
1586.
Metaphysicians are thus to the soul what flies
are to summer; they buzz much, they annoy much,
but they disappear with the cold. At the first
real, deep sorrow, the most enamoured meta-
physician puffs away his metaphysics like so many
bubbles, if like Gulliver of old, he has not yet
been irremediably laid low by the innumerable
fine threads wound about him by the pigmies . .
18
268 APHORISMS
IS87.
My whole quarrel with Philosophy and Meta-
physics is here: The one thing Truth Incarnate
came to bestow upon man is the restored ap-
proach to the bosom of God where he at last may
once more — rest. "Come unto me, all ye that
labor and are heavy-laden, and I will give you —
rest. Learn from me, and ye shall find — rest
unto your souls," is still the call of the ascended
Christ, as in the days of yore it was the call of the
descended Christ. But our modern activities
based at bottom on false metaphysics are of the
tumultuous, restless sort. And it has become
the fashionable disease of men as well as of women
to be so busy with their multitudinous activities
as to leave hardly time for even the ordinary
humanities. And the cause thereof is only one:
men have weaned themselves from the bosom of
God where the soul of man belongs as naturally
as the babe at its mother's breast. And meta-
physics is merely the indulgence of the soul of man
in the for the moment rather intoxicating rest-
lessness .
Not in vain are the birds of the air, specially
those of the seaside, type of the Adversary's host.
Behold them restless: most of the while on the
wing: fly, fly, fly. Mostly too with wings large,
body but little, feet scarcely visible: sailing, sail-
ing, sailing; circling, circling, circling, hardly ever
seen resting. True emblem this of business
and society which is dissipation with the crowd;
and science and philosophy, which is dissipation
apart from the crowd; but with the crowd or
without the crowd, it is still dissipation, the dissi-
pation of restlessness.
PHILOSOPHY, SCIENCE SO-CALLED 269
1589.
As I cross Harvard Bridge betwixt Boston
and Cambridge, and watch the gull in its flight
over the waters, methinks I see philosophy in its
white garment, with only the tip of its wings
just blackish ... It soars and circles; and
circles and soars; now and then it even dives, but
it is ever aimless, it ever remains accomplishing
naught, but catching some poor unwary fish.
1590.
The presence of the so-called Science of Ethics
betokens the decay of Integrity; since Ethics has
become the science of proving that the association
can do with a clear conscience what the individual
can do with only a guilty one. The presence of
the so-called Science of Political Economy be-
tokens the decay of Love ; since Political Economy
is essentially the Science of making Nature the
scapegoat of man's selfishness. The abundance
of so-called Fiction in Letters and Art betokens the
decay of Truth; since the working of Fiction is
only an unblushing confession that one is lying;
so likewise the presence of Metaphysics only
betokens the decay of true reverence and worship.
Religion draws men; literature cattle; science,
freight; philosophy, empty cars.
1592.
Religion rounds out the man; literature broad-
ens him; science lengthens him; philosophy flat-
tens him.
270 APHORISMS
1593-
Religion smooths out the wrinkles; science
discovers them; literature describes them; phi-
losophy looks at them.
IS94-
To the devout soul the world is a mirror to
reflect the glory of God in ; to the artist the world
is a park — a place to walk in; to the scientist the
world is a pond- — a place to fish in; to the meta-
physician the world is a bed — a place to dream in.
1595-
Religion ever furnishes a blanket adapted to the
bed, and covers the whole man, while both science
and philosophy furnish blankets that are too
short. Science covers the feet, and leaves the
head to shift for itself ; philosophy pulls it over the
head, and leaves the feet to flounder for them-
selves.
1596.
Religion at last furnishes the house within and
without, which science and philosophy start to
build. But science gets at least as far as the roof.
Philosophy stops at the staging.
1597-
Science is a kind of magician's borrowed hat
from which he produces all at once yards of reel-
ing tape, boxes of candy and a live duck. Meta-
physics picks up all these things and frantically
endeavors to put them all under one hat.
1598.
Two men are in equal darkness: who dives be-
yond his depth, who soars beyond his height.
PHILOSOPHY SCIENCE SO-CALLED 27 1
The modern scientist is apt to do the one; the
metaphysicians of all ages have been doing the
other.
1599-
Said General Sherman: The only good Indian
is the dead Indian ; I venture to say : Even the best
philosophy is a dead philosophy. For philosophy
is essentially a business of furnishing grounds for
things that either cannot or need not stand there-
on.
1600.
Metaphysicians are essentially folk, who like
the sages of the East, meditate in the Jungle on
the Immensities and Eternities by fixing their eyes
for days and weeks on the tip of their' — -nose.
And like these Sages they seldom get farther than
the tips of their noses. But whether they get far-
ther or not, the result is ever cross-eyedness for
aye . . .
1601.
Metaphysics is essentially a business of furnish-
ing either poor reasons for facts which no one
disputes, or still poorer reasons for disputing
what every one else knows to be indisputable.
1602.
Philosophy, like drinking, smoking, card-
playing, theatre going, dancing, is in nowise
forbid in the Book of God, being of itself neither
right nor wrong. But the whole tendency of these
with all their surroundings is downward; and as
such is ever deadly. And so with speculation,
metaphysics. Philosophy — its whole tendency
is never upward, always downward. Occupation
therewith is a most gentle incline asylumward,
272 APHORISMS
a sober, solemn search after perpetual motion in
the region of spirit. And every system of
philosophy is thus like the ever recurring dis-
covery of perpetual motion, which works admir-
ably on paper, but fails wretchedly with the real
wood or brass . . .
1603.
After all has been said, it is not I that declare
Philosophy and Religion to be at eternal war.
That great arch-enemy of God, Schopenhauer, has
done it before me. Says he:
"Positive Religion usurps the throne that
belongs to Philosophy. Philosophers will therefore
make war against her." What makes Schopen-
hauer the great philosopher is that he of all
philosophers recognized the eternal conflict, and
unflinchingly faced it . . .
1604.
A theory is to facts what the string is to the
pearls: good only to hold them together. The
folly of all system-makers is the gathering of
pearls for the sake of the string.
1605.
Of course I believe in Science, which is simply
a high-sounding name for — Knowledge. Only it
must be Knowledge, not guessage. The "Science"
that influences the thought of the day is not
Science at all, it is only the guesses concerning
things they do not know by the men who are
accepted as authorities in Science because of
the things they really do know. But the mere
guesses of folk, of even scientific folk, are after
all not yet knowings, they are still mere guessings.
PHILOSOPHY, SCIENCE SO-CALLED 273
1606.
Modern philosophers consist of two distinct
species of foxdom: the tailless and the betailed.
Who have lost their own tails would fain persuade
the rest that taillessness is the eternal law of all
respectable foxdom; and that those who are still
possessed of this token of uncompleted evolution
had best forthwith divest themselves thereof by
patent chopper or otherwise. The betailed ones,
however, stoutly maintain that foxdom minus
rear-bushiness is a gross sin against the eternal
spirit of truth; and that to apply these surgics
to fox's rear with or without anesthetics might
seriously derange the now established Kosmos.
But what is true, they go on to affirm, is: that
though grapes are indeed luscious, and ripe enough
to be eaten, they are in relation to foxdom forever
sour, since they are being so high, and beyond the
reach of even tailful foxdom . . .
1607.
When Harvard Philosopher No. i. tells me
that Truth is only relative, temporal, evanescent,
and can in nowise be known, even if there be such
a thing as Truth, which latter fact is as yet not
established, at least at Harvard, I say: Friend, I
pity thee from the bottom of my heart; for thou
art a liar at heart; thou has lost thy heart as a
man, and thy tail as a fox; and now thou wouldst
fain persuade the rest that they too had best part
with their tails ...
1608.
When Harvard Philosopher No. 2. tells me that
Duty is a relative term, a kind of elastic rubber
band, with an ill smell thereto when thrown into
274 APHORISMS
the fire; that the sole "duty" that is at all clear in
life is to meditate on the exposition of the Dutiless-
ness of Duty — I say again: I detest, philosopher,
thy philosophy from the bottom of my heart;
thou art a thief to thy very bone, thou hast indeed
still thy tail; and the luscious grapes are still
hanging above thee ; but . they are too high for
thine elastic conscience, and they remain for
thee — sour grapes . . .
1609.
Civilization polishes the savage into a barbarian.
Religion shapes him into a man.
1610.
Culture creates many desires; religion, only one
longing.
1611.
Science needs religion as the bicycle needs
the man: which without him cannot even stand;
with him not only runs itself, but even carries
the rider along.
1612.
Philosophy would fain vie with religion in
alleviating the ills of men. But religion furnishes
a tonic; philosophy, hardly even a plaster.
1613.
Education lengthens the man, culture broadens
him; experience colors him, religion ripens him.
1614.
Philosophy seeks for what is truth. Religion
finds Him who is the Truth.
PHILOSOPHY, SCIENCE SO-CALLED 275
1615.
I have a clock which instead of keeping time
for me obliges me to keep time for it — sad ex-
ample of the help so far given by science to
religion.
1616.
The comet — true type of the metaphysician:
dragging a long nebulous tail behind a solid but
slight head.
1617.
The value of science is seldom disputable, its
price often is.
1618.
The metaphysician is like the moth: hovers
round the light, but only to be scorched therein.
1619.
Two men have no need of philosophy ; who has
no leisure for it, and who has.
1620.
The light given by science is like that of the
lantern: may still leave its bearer in the shade.
1621.
Both Nature and Creation are each a whole.
But Creation can always be seen as a part.
Nature is at best beholden only as a fragment.
1622.
I used to have great respect for all manner of
science until I found that my business with the
Chinaman is to get my linen clean, not to watch
him handling it in the washtub.
276 APHORISMS
1623.
Metaphysics transgress against the great law
of conduct which is: Nothing too- exact — the \
great rule of art, of life.
1624.
All other intoxications reveal the true man.
Metaphysics alone chokes the true man.
1625.
The metaphysician seeks to discover the
meaning of life. Poor soul: he lost it long, long
ago.
1626.
The metaphysician like the rest of men has
also his pillar of fire to lead him through the
desert, but he speedily converts it into an ignus
fatuus . . .
1627.
Piety comes seldom from theology; goodness,
rarely through ethics; and knowledge alas! not
yet always from science.
1628.
Metaphysicians like volcanoes throw up a great
deal of smoke and stones, only they are not so
picturesque.
1620.
The trouble with metaphysics is : though aspir-
ing to be winged biped, it is only corner sexaped.
1630.
A system of philosophy is a pyramid upside
down : a vast structure built upon a point. Hence
a little wind blows it down.
PHILOSOPHY, SCIENCE SO-CALLED 277
163I.
A system is for thought what the horn is for
the powder. It keeps it well — confined.
1632.
Perhaps the best use of a system is that of the
band around the garments when carried about:
good only to hold them together when they are not
to be displayed.
1633.
A theory is to fact what the string is to the
pearls; good only for holding them together.
The folly of all system-making is the gathering
of pearls for the sake of the string.
1634.
When folk speak of not accepting things
"contrary to reason," —as if there were a universal
reason laid up somewhere like the standard yard
or pound at Washington — they mean their own
reason: but what appears wholly unreasonable
to one appears most reasonable to another who has
had wider experience. To speak, therefore
of rejecting some things as "contrary to reason,"
is generally to confess one's own ignorance in such
matters; and there is an educated ignorance as
well as an uneducated ignorance; only unedu-
cated ignorance believes too much; educated
ignorance believes too little.
1635.
It is blessedly true that reason is supreme, only
it must not be your reason.
1636.
Revelation is to reason what the telescope is
to sight: an aid, not a substitute.
278 APHORISMS
l637-
Only that is true science which increases not
my doubts but my faith.
1638.
Who writes out his system only exposes it to
argument. Who lives it out can prove it.
1639.
Philosophy is to religion what tissue paper is to
parchment.
1640.
It needs much knowledge to doubt intelligently,
and as much to believe intelligently.
1641.
Who doubts may be using a broom against the
dust. Who remains a doubter stays in the dust.
1642.
The highest attainment of reason is to know
not its competence but its incompetence.
1643.
The Gossip: "Just think, I did not of course
see the sun last night, but I did see the moon
this morning."
The Scientist: "It is a matter, friends, of uni-
versal experience that the sun is never seen by
night, — but the moon is sometimes seen by day.
It thus constitutes a law of nature."
The Philosopher: "It is, ladies and gentlemen,
an a priori law of the mind that it shall not per-
ceive the sun by night, but may perceive the
moon by day."
The Fool: "Well, what of it, anyhow?" And
the fool is not the foolishest of the four.
PHILOSOPHY, SCIENCE SO-CALLED 279
1644.
To give out most heat the soul like the stove
must have its upper door shut.
1645.
The spider in the garret in the delusion that he
is a winged eagle soaring heavenward — this is
the metaphysician.
1646.
The only way to solve the problem of life is to
live it. Metaphysicians only guess at it.
1647.
Credulity slays its thousands; unbelief, its ten
thousands.
1648.
Unbelief is at bottom only ignorance, but ignor-
ance of one's own ignorance.
1649.
The difference between false science and true:
a Darwin ignores revelation; a Newton writes a
Commentary on Revelation.
1650.
The difference between all false teaching and
the true is in one word: Philosophy says, Stand!
Science (so-called) says, Go! False Religion says,
Do! Christ alone makes all these possible by
prefacing them with, Come!
1651.
Reason alone is seldom content with fact alone,
it seeks also the reason for that fact. And it is
this that makes mere reason often so unreasonable.
280 APHORISMS
1652.
The light given by Science is like that of the
lantern, which may still leave its bearer in the
shade.
1653-
Metaphysics is the art of bringing illegitimate
offspring to birth with things.
1654.
The metaphysician is a man who having through
trifling lost the meaning of life sets about in all
seriousness to account for life.
1655-
Every system of philosophy is like the ever-
recurring discovery of perpetual motion: works
well enough on — paper.
1656.
Both Metaphysics and Science have legitimate
fences around them. Science breaks them down
and finds itself lost: Metaphysics vaults over
them and is caught hanging in the air.
1657.
There are two kinds of superstition: of faith,
of unbelief. Faith is at times superstitious as to
incidentals ; unbelief is always superstitious as to
fundamentals.
1658.
Credulity believes without evidence; faith
knows that the evidence is forthcoming. Cre-
dulity only believes with insufficient reasons;
faith trusts for sufficient reasons.
PHILOSOPHY, SCIENCE SO-CALLED 251
1659.
Both faith and doubt give reasons for them-
selves ; but faith gives the reasons it found before
believing; doubt gives those it finds after doubt-
ing.
1660.
The metaphysician starts out with questioning
what little knowledge he has. He ends with losing
it altogether.
1661.
The wise man is concerned with the fact that
the Universe is administered; the philosopher,
with whether it is administered; the fool, with
how it might be administered. And here for once
the fool is only as foolish as the philosopher.
1662.
Idolators and metaphysicians have this in
common : the God of both is man made ; but the
idolator's God is an ideal; the metaphysician's
is only an idea.
1663.
The metaphysician suffers from having more
wing to him than body.
1664.
The metaphysician suffers from a peculiar mis-
fortune: his pillar of fire becomes for him an
ignis fatuus.
XX.
THE MODERNS
i66 S .
Modern Art, Science and Letters have become
largely a habit of using volcanoes for boiling eggs
and roasting potatoes, and earthquakes for shak-
ing out mice.
1666.
The temper of Modern Science is : If you study
God's ways you are only a mystic. If you study
Man's Spirit, you are a metaphysician. If, how-
ever, you study man's flesh, you are already a
physiologist. But if you study worms and bugs
out-of-doors, and ill-smelling gases indoors, you
are true scientist . . .
1667.
Modern Science consists of a few newly-dis-
covered facts with many exploded theories : the
theories being largely deemed to be the Science.
1668.
Nature is the mirror of God. The fundamental
error of Modern Science is in forgetting that mir-
rors are not for the blind.
1669.
Modern Science is afflicted with the cataract of
the eyes, and now it expounds the eclipse of Faith.
1670.
Of the numerous marvels of the Twentieth
Century, not the least is the ease with which folk
THE MODERNS 283
persuade men, after putting out their own eyes,
that now they can help men to see all the better.
1671.
The men of Babel strove to climb heaven by
means of a tower; the men of to-day are scaling
the heavens with telescope and spectroscope.
Prometheus stole fire from heaven by mere cun-
ning; the men of to-day play with the fire from
heaven in their laboratories by sheer wit. The
men of Babel met with confusion of tongues and
were scattered abroad. Prometheus was given an
eagle to tear his liver, after being chained to a
rock. The men of to-day are meeting not only
with confusion of tongues, but also with confusion
of head and heart ; they are not scattered abroad ;
they are left where they are, and not even chained.
But their vitals are left to be eaten whether abroad
or at home . . .
1672.
Modern Science is to the Soul what the mor-
ganatic wife is to royalty; offspring legitimate
enough, but cannot be crowned.
1673.
The storm in the city begins with dust and ends
with mud, the rain having gone between. Modern
Science begins with mud and ends with dust,
leaving the man between.
1674.
Modern Scientific men are apt to be like the
gaspipe: which conveys illumination, but ceases
not thereby to be dark itself.
19
284 APHORISMS
1675.
Modern Art and Science have become true
yokefellows: Modern Art, strives to make the
mean appear ideal. Modern Science makes the
ideal mean.
1676.
Education and Science have so far only length-
ened man's hands and feet, they have elongated
his ears, and sharpened his eyes. But they have
not enlarged his heart, nor even expanded his
vision. The same healing art which gives quinine
to the fevered and ether in surgery, practices
vivisection if not on paupers' babes in hospitals,
at least on defenceless beasts in the laboratory.
The spread of intelligence has made roguery more
successful, honesty more difficult. It has added
many luxuries that make for loss of stamina in
soul as well as body, but have not made the strug-
gle for existence less fierce. And the railways that
take us across continent in a few days are operated
only with the slaughter or maiming of some one
hundred thousand human beings a year, some two
thousand a week, some three hundred a day, some
dozen every hour, one soul during the few minutes
that this paragraph is being written, during the
very time it takes you, dear reader, to read it . . .
1677.
The wrong is not in possessing the hot water
but in letting it scald others. Modern Civilization
to the cry of the scalded flesh only answers : But
I have a right to my hot water !
1678.
Theoretically, Modern Civilization is supposed
THE MODERNS 285
to enable every man to make a wise man out of
himself. Practically, it only leaves him free to
make a fool of himself.
1679.
The difference between the old so-called super-
stition and the modern so-called emancipation is :
In the days of old folk feared to go to the theatre
lest they roast after they die. In the days of
to-day folk brave going to the theatre even with
the reasonable chance of roasting before they die.
1680.
No prince of ancient times was ever known to
be eager to prove that he was the son of a — hod-
carrier. On the contrary, the hod-carrier's son,
once he got into power, was eager to prove himself
the son of a god. But in Modern Science the men
who had hitherto been held to be the offspring of
God are more than eager to prove that they are
really descended from a tail-carrier . . .
1681.
A product peculiar to the Nineteenth Century,
and its prolongation, the Twentieth, is a literary
man losing his head in his youth, and then going
about the rest of his life to establish the beauty
of headlessness.
1682.
In an evil moment Lessing said that Raphael
would still have been a great painter had he been
born without hands. Ever since, many an artist
who has lost his head still continues in the belief
that he is a great artist.
286 APHORISMS
l68 3 .
Our literary men are now chiefly hodmen for
publishers (just as editors of periodicals are chiefly
clerks in the upper story for the counting room in
the lower) who are long of dollars, tho' short of
wit and taste. These in turn are chiefly hodmen of
readers who are long of ennui and short of aims in
life, and need to be — amused . . . The nations of
Canaan were hewers of wood and drawers of
water to at least God's chosen people, but these
have not even this consolation. "The public
wants this, the public wants that !" Madame Ro-
land would now cry instead : "0 Public, how many
the literary Follies committed in thy name!"
1684.
The chief characteristic of modern book-making
is first, their outward voluptuousness, and then
their inward leanness. Superficial wealth covering
abject poverty.
1685.
At first the appearance of books was padded,
now it is their contents.
1686.
The modern ambition in letters seems to be:
To tell without genius in a big book what has
already been told with genius in a small one.
1687.
Old Midas touched paint and it became gold.
But poor Midas, soon saw that he was under a
curse. Our modern painters also touch paint, and
it becomes gold. But they do not yet see them-
selves under the curse . . .
THE MODERNS 287
1688.
A special product of the Nineteenth-Twentieth
Century is the man whose wisdom decreases as
his knowledge increases. Our learned men are
many of this sort. The Chicago professor who
discovered that our modern Rockefellers are really
the whilom Shakespeares was dismissed : not, how-
ever, because he thought foolishly, but because
he spake foolishly . . .
1689.
Some of our recent religious movements remind
one of the bicycle tandem, which is a treadmill
with the poetry of riding taken out.
1690.
So-called Christian Science is a cult devised by
a woman, and largely for women. Accordingly,
only a womaii could sum it up most neatly as "a
splendid institution for those who have not brains
enough to exert their will power without joining
a sect."
1691.
A male Christian Scientist is generally a femi-
nine man. A female Spiritualist is generally a
masculine woman.
1692.
The cry for young ministers is rebellion not so
much against gray heads as against gray hearts.
1693-
The craving for fiction is due as much to the
hunger for truth as to the loss of truth.
1694.
The abundance of pictorial illustration illus-
trates only the decay of imagination.
255 APHORISMS
1695.
Commerce is becoming the art of convincing
folk that they need what you don't.
1696.
Metaphysics betoken the decay of religion ;
Ethics the decay of Integrity, Political Economy
the decay of Love, Fiction the decay of Truth.
1697.
Once Charity covered a multitude of sins.
Now it is not even the money given for charity,
but "success" that covers every sin committed in
attaining it.
1698.
Fashions were meant originally to change only
with the climate and the person. Now they
change only with the tailor and milliner.
1699.
The ancient women sat at the loom : the mod-
ern sit at the piano at home, and in the committee-
room (if not at the bridge table) abroad. And the
difference is between weaving cloth and weaving
air.
1700.
Society was first made by men; it then began
to be ruled by women : it is now about to consist
of and for children.
1701.
The modern complaint: How shall we get the
time? is uttered largely by those whose chief
burden is, How shall we spend the time?
THE MODERNS 289
1702.
It was not ever thus; but now they may well
have music at a wedding. Soldiers are led into
slaughter also with music.
1703-
A modern Virtue: Contentment with the
bitterness of the river at its mouth because of its
sweetness at the head.
1704.
In the modern struggle for existence failure
from our own weakness is certain; and success
without the weakness of others is problematic.
1705-
Speak that I may see you! could be said by the
ancient sage. See, that I may speak with you!
must be said by the modern one.
. ; 1706.
There is expansion by growth and by bloating.
Modern expansion is chiefly by bloating.
1707.
It used to be: Like priest, like people. It is
now: Like people, like priest.
1708.
No one nowadays is free without money. It is
only a question whether there are any free with
money.
1709.
The discussion whether our age is better than
former ages or worse is only an academic one. No
age was ever as good as it could be, and every age
is worse than it need be.
290 APHORISMS
I7IO.
The symptom best attesting the wide degeneracy
of the present is the entire lack of real admiration
or even appreciation on the part of even those
capable thereof. Every one thinks himself com-
petent to have an opinion on everything, to sit in
judgment over everyone, each deeming himself
the peer of the best. This temper begins in self-
sufficiency, continues with self-conceit, and ends
in self-deceit.
1711.
A modern bugbear: the cry, But this is not
original! AH good thoughts are sure to be old;
and all new thoughts are not so sure of being good.
1712.
Said the Scotchman on his death-bed : My Son,
make money: honestly, if you can, but — make
money. The apocryphal Scotchman was a rogue ;
the real modern Philosopher is only a — Pragma-
tist.
1713-
Modern Science is very patient with the un-
tying of the knot ; and toward the end it deliber-
ately' — cuts it.
1714.
Without God modern civilization is as fatal as
ancient barbarism. The fire of the noblest oak
burns as fatally as that of the meanest scrub.
1715-
Old age complains of the times, that youth
shows no respect for age. But, my aged friend,
have you taken pains to make old age venerable
to youth?
THE MODERNS 29 1
1716.
How shall old age be venerable to youth when
everyone is frantically striving not to be old?
1717.
Brass may not resound louder than gold in
Nature. It always does in contemporary Letters
and Art.
1718.
Their social certificate folk nowadays carry
mostly in their purse; a few still carry it in their
head. I prefer mine in the heart.
1719.
Modern Science often invites folk to throw a
firebrand into a keg of powder, with the assurance
that no harm will come therefrom. Unfortunately
it has hitherto failed to prove that the experiment
has ever been successful.
1720.
There is much groping these days for the guide,
when all that is needed is to get into the path.
1721.
They make it their special business to live' for
man — I am somewhat suspicious of them. It is
just possible that they have turned philanthropists
after finding themselves unable to live with men.
1722.
The woman that sits nowadays for her portrait
displaying her teeth — beware of her, as you do of
that other animal that displays his teeth . . .
292 APHORISMS
1723.
For meeting the mean a short walk is long
enough. For meeting the noble even a long
journey seldom suffices.
1724.
The ancients wrote aphorisms; the moderns
write essays. And the distinction is characteristic.
But the moderns do not wholly repudiate the
aphorism. Only they give the matter a new turn..;
So that if your disconnected paragraphs are sep-
arated by numbers or dashes, you are an aphorist.
If they are joined together without marks of
separation, you are an — essayist.
1725.
All literature so far consists chiefly of two kinds :
truth as groundwork with vast supersturcture of j
fiction ; fiction as centre with occasional bits of I
truth around it.
1726.
A great victory may prove only less disastrous
than a great defeat. The modern victory of man
over Nature and the elements is one of those dis-
astrous victories . . .
1727.
My quarrel with modern so-called art is that
its messages are seldom worth delivering; and
when they are, too much liberty is taken with the
dotting of the i's and the crossing of the t's.
1728.
A great mistake : to expect fruit from seed re-
gardless of soil and weather. Modern education
is powerless about the seeds, heedless of the soil,
and wholly ignorant as to the weather.
THE MODERNS 293
1729.
In every age evildoers have had their apologists.
In our age the monopolistic corporations have
theirs. The Standard Oil folk have forsooth given
us cheaper oil. And I begin to feel as if I ought to
cultivate a new admiration for the despised worm.
The dear worm, he has use for even a corpse. It
is his paradise, in fact, it is! . . .
1730-
We wonder at our ancestors who warred against
each other for the sake of a religion of love. Our
descendants will wonder at us for going to war
for the sake of peace. And we must wonder at
ourselves for refusing help to our fellows in the
name of Scientific Charity.
i73i-
- "Know thyself!" The ancients needed this
exhortation in the objective case. The modern
man needs it also in the nominative.
XXI.
OF LIFE.
1732.
Two men have hardly yet begun to live: who
is already weary of life, who has not yet wearied
of life.
1733-
The problem of life ? The very use of the phrase
by you shows that you either have not yet even
grasped the meaning of life, or have already lost it.
1734-
Life is a tragedy to the poor, a comedy to the
rich; to the wise it is both, to the fool it is neither.
And herein is the fool for once wiser than the wise.
1735-
Life itself is little, it is its duties that make it
great.
1736.
Length of life is measured by the number of
days lived by us ; breadth of life by the number of
folk known to us; depth of life by the number of
sorrows borne by us ; height of life by the number
of folk loved by us.
1737-
Fear not lest thy life come to an end; rather
lest it ne'er begin.
1738.
Life is small if measured by what may be gotten
out of it. It is great enough if measured by what
can be put into it.
OF LIFE 295
1739-
Life is measured not by its horizontal but by-
its vertical extent. Pressure is determined not
by the breadth of the column but by its height.
1740.
This life is only a parenthesis of eternity.
1741.
The secret of life is to turn on a small pivot over
a wide circumference.
1742.
The secret of life is that each must learn it for
himself.
1743-
The great end of life is love; its great means,
hope; its great method, faith.
1744.
The art of life consists in keeping earthly step
to heavenly music.
*745-
Signboards are good during the journey. It is
the art of life not to carry them about after the
journey.
1746.
The art of life consists in putting ourselves first
in the place of those we do not understand; and
then in the place of those who do not understand
us.
1747-
Every real need is supplied us. It is the art of
life ever after to hold thereto.
296 APHORISMS
1748.
Enjoyment in play consists in recognizing the
limits which must not be passed. Enjoyment in
life consists in recognizing the limits which can
never be reached.
1749.
That is the great life which is equal not only to
its great opportunities, but also to its small duties.
1750;
The ideal life is like the ideal book : which must
be of the best paper, clearly printed, and strongly
bound.
i75i-
That is the great life which though having
nothing to hide has yet much to disclose.
I7S2.
That is the great life which is like the clock in
the tower : its very usefulness distracts the atten-
tion from its great size.
1753-
Every life has its tunnels: if short they only
chill you; but if long they freeze you.
1754.
That is the longest life which consists of short
years.
1755-
You cannot begin a new life, it is begun for you.
You can only continue it.
1756.
The first part of life is wisely spent in endeavor
to become somebody. The second is spent still
more wisely is learning to stay a nobody.
OF LIFE 297
1757-
Life without religion is like the open street car :
not built for stormy weather.
1758.
In life the parts are always greater than the
whole.
1759.
"Thay or coffay ?" "I will have some tea, if you
please." "We ain't got no thay, you will have to
take some coffay." We smile at the scene in the
restaurant, but every choice we make in life is
perhaps equally free, though not equally humor-
ous.
1760.
The life of most folk consists in reading a dull
text for the sake of a few piquant notes.
1761.
Common folk wish for more of life, the uncom-
mon wish for more in life.
1762.
In the lottery the more tickets you hold the
greater your chance of winning. In life the more
tickets you hold, the greater the chance of losing.
1763.
For two things life is too short: for hatred, for
regrets.
1764.
Life is too short for regrets; and for mourning
it is long enough only when its tears fertilize the
heart.
298 APHORISMS
I76S.
Mournful the fate of him that hath swerved to
the right of his ordained path, and pitiful the fate
of him that hath swerved to the left of his or-
dained path. But pitifullest the fate of him who
is a living pendulum: swerving now to the right,
now to the left : ever returning to his centre, never
abiding there. And all that is left is to thank
God for the centre, which maugre all swerving
cannot be gotten away from . . . .
1766.
The rule to pass out in front and enter by the
rear is well observed all through life as well as in
the cars.
1767.
A pure life is like the sky : the clouds' pass over
it, even hide it, but never stain it.
1768.
It is difficult to know one's place in life, and
far more difficult to keep it after knowing it.
1769.
It is urged by several reputedly wise folk,
Goethe among them, that we be either hammer
or anvil. I intend to be neither: certainly not
hammer; and anvil I must be only when it is God
who holds the hammer ....
1770.
Your words tell what you hold, your life tells
what holds you.
1771.
The sermon is the man discoursing, the life is
the man preaching.
OF LIFE 299
1772.
To have nothing worth more than life is to have
a life worth nothing.
1773.
Even the best life can only make the best of
life.
1774.
Amusements may do for the filling in of the
chinks of life; for filling in the spaces labor alone
will do.
1775-
The advantage of being dead is that for once
folk know where you are.
1776.
The sick at heart death seldom takes. Instead
he prods them oft with the point of his scythe.
1777.
Who leaves not death behind him, need not
fear death before him .
1778.
To be truly dead folk must die not only to their
bad selves, but also to their good selves.
1779.
Beautiful the thought that even the godless
are laid away so that they too look up to heaven.
1780.
The dead ashes improve the field, the living
crops exhaust it.
17.81.
We do not learn to die by helping others to die.
we do learn to live by helping others to live.
20
300 OF LIFE
1782.
The display of strength after a heavy fall is
seldom more than the natural rebound. The art
of life is to prepare during that rebound for the
unavoidable return downward . . .
1783.
We must all die once without our consent, let
us die once with our consent that we may live the
life which, once obtained, cannot be lost without
our consent.
1784.
All men at first merely live; the many soon
outlive; same revive; the few survive.
1785.
The most apt type of man is the moon, which
is full only two or three days, and is dark only two
or three days, but is partly bright and partly dark
the rest of the month, and its realm is the night . .
XXII.
OF SOCIETY.
1786.
The ideal society is the one in which everyone
has his work and is given his due.
1787.
Society is organized largely for the mutual
maintenance of self-complacency.
1788.
Circulating decimals — the chief constituent of
fashionable society.
1789.
Fashionable society is faulty chiefly in its gram-
mar. It knows no them, only us.
1790.
In a democracy every city has its own "soci-
ety"; but there is no society in the nation; unless
contiguous but separate ant-heaps with now and
then a path from the one to the other can be
called national society.
1791.
Every field of life has its fatal mistake. In
society it consists in mistaking the beanpole for
the stalk.
1792.
Yes, my society friends; gold also can be made
to float ; but only when beaten thin or as a hollow
tube ....
302 APHORISMS
1793-
What makes society folk is that they are most
at home when not at home.
1794.
The safest bond of society is confidence; its
most dangerous is familiarity.
I79S-
Two great calamities: when society unfits us
for sober pursuits; when sober pursuits unfit us
for society.
1796.
In society a man is measured first by what
others take him to be, and then by what he takes
others to be.
1797.
In society, folk like the moon, always present
us the same face.
1798.
Even merciless law is more charitable than
' 'society." Law holds one innocent till proven
guilty, and gives him the benefit of the doubt.
Society treats the accused as guilty till proven in-
nocent, and gives him the benefit of — suspicion.
1799.
Where society between folk of different sta-
tions in life is found it is not because of the su-
periority of the inferior, but because of the need
of the superior.
1800.
The insincerity of speech in French society
comes from loving folk more than the truth. The
insincerity of speech elsewhere is apt to come from
loving neither.
OF SOCIETY 303
1801.
It is the empty house that has its blinds always
shut. The exclusive display by their exclusive-
ness only their emptiness.
1802.
To be fit for circulation the gold must be al-
loyed.
1803.
There are folk with whom, the living together
not only wears off the fuzz of their own velvet,
but they cover us, like the brown-tail moth, with
a fuzz of their own which irritates and poisons.
1804.
The true aristocrats are only three: who toils
honestly with his hands, who thinks clearly with
his head, who loves forgivingly with his heart.
1805.
Of a new acquaintance I always ask first : Is he
on the lookout for appreciation? And then, Is it
appreciation of himself or others.
1806.
The small soul out of society is like the fish out
of the water, darting hither and thither, though
only for a time ; the great soul out of its society is
like the bird without air — choked at once.
1807.
A man is best known when seen apart; he is
best understood when seen as a part.
To pass true judgment on ourselves we must
be in society, to pass true judgment on others we
must be in solitude.
3O4 APHORISMS
1809.
Against vexation by things the. one remedy is
patience ; against vexation by folk patience is also
a good remedy, but the patience born of love.
1810.
I am never so much alone as when looking to
my fellows by day. I am never so much in soci-
ety, as when looking to the stars at night.
1811.
A great tragedy : for copper to be passing for
gold; but there is a greater: for gold to be taken
for copper.
1812.
The vice of low breeding is obliviousness of
what is above it; the fault of high breeding is a
certain scorn of what is beneath it.
1813. .
The brute is indifferent to what is below him;
the boor, to what is above him; the refined man,
only to what is beyond him.
1814.
The superior man is content even among his
inferiors ; the inferior man is content only among
his equals.
1815.
By hating our inferiors we sink to them, by
loving our superiors we rise toward them.
1816.
By hating our inferiors we descend to them;
by persecuting them we sink below them.
OF SOCIETY 305
1817.
It is the mark of a great man that while his
height above his fellows makes him small in their
eyes, their distance below him does not make
them small in his.
1818.
From others to ourselves we must ask only jus-
tice; others from us have a right to expect mercy.
1819.
All need our pity. It is only a question to
whom we should also give our sympathy.
1820.
All have a right to expect others to do their
duty; few have a right to demand it.
1821.
Unlike steam and trolley roads folk cross each
other best not above grade or below grade, but
at grade.
1822.
The esteem of folk is gained more by what is
said of them than by what is done for them.
1823.
It is easy to gain notoriety, and as easy to lose
reputation.
1824.
Confiding in another is not always a sign that
you trust him. It may be the sign that you
cannot be trusted yourself.
1825.
Our dislike of folk can be destroyed by reason.
Our liking of folk cannot be built up by mere
reason.
306 APHORISMS
1826.
It is only Nature that never loses its charm
by our familiarity therewith. Familiarity with
man's work, however beautiful, causes loss of at
least vital interest.
1827.
The pleasure of finding folk agreeing with us is
seldom due to finding ourselves confirmed in the
truth; oftener it is in the confirmation that we are
so wise.
1828.
A searching test : whether you like him as much
for the things about which you agree as you dis-
like him for the things about which you disagree.
1829.
Who cannot endure the society of the bad has
seen too little of the world; who can has seen too
much.
1830.
An insult is only mud thrown at you; and like
mud is best brushed off when dry.
1831.
A simple test : whether you are more distressed
by the wrong you do than by the wrong you suffer.
1832.
As long as every one dislikes you there may yet
be hope. It is when every one likes you that
your case is most desperate.
1833-
The man who is content in solitude is a remark-
able man, but chiefly from the fact that he is an
abnormal man.
OF SOCIETY 307
1834.
Forgetfulness of names is a sign of incipient
decay of mind; forgetfulness of persons is a sign
of incipient decay of heart.
1835-
The ideal man, though nowhere at home him-
self, will make every one at home with him.
1836.
It is futile to try to conciliate the world to
us. We can only reconcile ourselves to the world.
1837.
Of Pegasus and the ox is only Pegasus to be
pitied? No, the ox also. Only the fate of Pega-
sus is one to make angels weep ; the fate of the ox
is only one to make oxen bellow.
1838.
The surest way to win men's hearts is by frank-
ness and sincerity, but also the surest way to lose
them.
1839.
Every one is interesting enough for a time at a
distance. Few are abidingly so at close range.
1840.
In the upper classes it is chiefly the embroidery
that is fine, while the texture is rather indifferent.
In the lower classes, it is the reverse.
1841.
Society and specialism in learning have th's in
common: both create an artificial state of mind
which makes impossible both the perception of
truth where it is not had, and its right expression
where it is had.
308 APHORISMS
1842.
Of all the figures the zero is the most pleasing
to the eye because it has no angles. And that is
why it is always safer to take the place of zero in
society.
1843.
Rank is to the person what the stamp is to the
coin: adds nothing to its value, but aids its circu-
lation.
1844.
It is a great hardship to be an exile from one's
country, a greater hardship to be an exile in one's
country.
1845.
The vulgar mind is not given to admiring ; the
refined soul is not given to being admired.
1846.
All have some hairy clothing ; but the few have
silk hair, the rest have goat's hair; happy their
case if it be not swine's bristles.
1847.
The foundation of all society is the craving for
company; the foundation of all noble society is
the craving for companionship.
1848.
vSincere we must be with all; confiding, hardly
to any.
1849.
High society — high satiety: with constant
search for an appetite.
OF SOCIETY 309
l8 5 0.
It is in society as with money; the precious
metal is hid in the vault. What circulates is apt
to be mostly printed rags with values stamped
thereon.
1851.
Their social certificate folk nowadays carry
mostly in their purse ; a few still carry it in their
head. I prefer mine in my heart.
1852.
The possession of what we need is compara-
tively inexpensive. It is the possession of what
others like that is so expensive.
i8S3.
There are two kinds of lonely folk: who really
are above their fellows; who only fail to recognize
their fellows.
1854.
Who sharpens his wit against others is only
sharpening their memory against himself.
i85S.
Folk in society are like the advertisements in
the street cars : all that is best in the articles you
learn there: but the other side — that you can
learn only in the privacy of home use.
1856.
Geese keep together by nature, the fellowship
of souls must be cultivated.
1857.
My exclusive friend- — even the cold car becomes
readily heated when packed with people enough.
3IO APHORISMS
l8 5 8.
To despise the common is the vulgar error of
the cultivated. And the good is not so common \
among them because they despise it as common.
1859.
The butterfly, to spread its wings, needs the
sunshine of the day; the owl gets on with the
darkness of the night. Not in vain is the one
symbol of society; the other, of wisdom.
i860.
The two meanest souls on earth — I have known
them both : one, the wife of a loving husband who
in all the score of years of their wedded life saw
naught in him to praise, and nearly all to blame;
the other, the maiden of the lover who in all the
twenty years and five of his passionate devotion
unto her was meted out scant cheer only rarely,
but stern reproach nearly alway. There is no
question as to these two being the meanest souls
under heaven. The only question is which is the
meaner of the two.
1861.
Petty interests only freeze men together; com-
mon interests glue men together; noble interests
melt men together.
1862.
A great misfortune: to be so busy with the
great duties to man as to neglect the small duties
to men.
1863.
It is a mark of weakness to be unable to endure
the imperfections of others; and it is a cause of
weakness to endure them.
OF SOCIETY 311
1864.
By humanitarianism I understand for the pres-
ent all those well-meant theories of whatever name
which start out with the hope of regeneration
of society; of lifting man from his acknowledged
selfish depth to a noble height by means of philan-
thropic effort, but without the great God and His
annointed Christ; to make man taller by means
of his own hand-made stilts; to lift man to heaven
by means of his man-made pulleys, to ascend
thereto with his own-built ladders. In temper
Philanthrophy is thus not superior to the Post-
deluvians with their: " Go to, let us build us a tow-
er that shall reach unto heaven." If not so gross-
ly presumptuous, it effects the same inevitable
confusion of tongues and scattering among men.
1865.
The other night a man came here to lecture on
the Life Saving Service, and illustrated it with
the stereopticon. He came to make others see
some interesting things ; but he himself was — blind.
I have a friend who is successfully giving his
life to the healing of the sick, though he himself is
an invalid much of the time, walking on crutches
oft.
And thus it ever is: Sinful folk devoting their
lives to the turning of their neighbors into saints ;
ignorant folk eager to enlighten their fellows, un-
happy folk devoting their lives to making others
happy.
But the audience of the blind man was wiser
than the lecturer. It did not come to be made to
see some things by him : they paid their quarter
of a dollar to see how a blind man would make
others see.
XXIII.
MEN AND WOMEN.
1866.
A boy is not a boy as long as he is much of
a girl; the man is not a man until he is not a
little of a woman.
1867.
A man is not complete until he has not a little
of the woman in him. A woman is not complete
as long as she has much of the man in her.
1868.
A feminine man — something may yet become
of him; the masculine woman — what, pray, is
here to become of her?
1869.
A foolish man is apt to talk more of himself;
a foolish woman is apt to talk more of others.
He is vain, she is curious.
1870.
A man likes you for what he thinks you are;
a woman, for what you think she is.
1871.
A great woman can afford to be only unknown.
A great man must afford also to be misknown.
1872.
Men's eyes are in their heads; women's in their
hearts.
MEN AND WOMEN 313
1873^
A man sells himself at times from his love for
others; a woman sells herself nearly always from
love of self.
1874.
A man's second advice is apt to be better than
his first, a woman's is seldom as good.
1875.
When a man loves a woman beneath him he
seldom descends to her; when a woman loves a
man above her, she seldom rises to him.
1876.
A woman is no longer herself when she has
ceased to be given to tears. A man is not yet
himself as long as he is not yet given to tears.
1877.
The woman is at her best when given habitually
to smiles ; the man is then only not yet at his worst.
It is always well for a man to have a woman's
heart ; it is hardly ever well for a woman to have a
man's head.
1879.
Men fall easier into love, women into hatred.
1880.
It may be true that woman is man's inferior
in logic. But she is oft his superior by being less
in need of logic.
1881.
A man's love for a woman is best shown by
his wishing to share his wealth with her. A
314 APHORISMS
woman's love for a man is best shown by her
readiness to share his poverty with him.
Women are more likely to love those they hate
than those they deem ridiculous. Of the ridicu-
lous we deem ourselves the superiors. Those we
hate are seldom our inferiors.
1883.
Not even indifference will drive out from a
woman's heart a certain tenderness for the man
whose love she does not reciprocate. But for the
man who has lost her love she seldom has aught
but hatred.
1884.
Pity for a man is in a woman love embryonic ;
friendship for him is generally love truncated.
Where the lover has no eyes, the husband may
need putting them out.
1886.
Where the lover is blind to real faults of the
maiden, the husband may yet be looking to the
possible shortcomings of the wife.
1887.
The husband needs at times to be blind, the
wife needs oft to be deaf; both need much of the
time to be dumb.
The lover may easily be judged from his maiden ;
the husband not so easily from his wife.
'
MEN AND WOMEN 315
1889.
The tragedy of most marriages consists in folk
embracing more than they can carry.
1890.
A woman ceases to be half when she becomes
a wife; she becomes complete only as a mother.
1891.
In choosing a friend always go up. In choosing
a wife never go down.
1892.
Were the husband as blind to the faults of the
wife as the lover is to those of the maiden, fewer
unhappy marriages would follow the happy
courtships.
1893.
I know a soul that in her relation to him con-
sists of ninety parts vinegar and ten parts oil;
and oft she wounds him that loves her, and out
she pours the oil and the vinegar. But the
vinegar she pours into the wound by the quart;
the oil she applies, of course, but by the drop . .
1894.
Women are mostly made of glass, but it is apt
to be ground glass.
1895.
I used to be a woman suffragist as long as I
saw in woman only delicate spirit. I am still
a woman suffragist, even though I now know that
there is to her also much coarse flesh.
The mission of woman is either to make happy
and be happy therein, or to make unhappy and
not be unhappy therein.
21
316 APHORISMS
l8 97 .
Few women have great understandings ; but the
good woman makes up her lack of head with
abundance of heart; the bad woman adds to her
lack of head also a deficiency of heart.
I can get on with the kind and the true and the
strong. I can still get on, though not so surely
with the hateful, the deceitful and the weak.
I find somewhat trying those who are neither true
nor false, neither kind nor hateful, neither strong
nor weak. But there are folk who can at the same
time be both: true and false, weak and strong,
loveable and hateful. They are mostly women,
and these I have not the least idea how to get on
with.
1899.
A man seldom loves a woman before he knows
her; a woman loves a man long after she knows
him.
1900.
Of the many claims of Socrates to the title of
the wisest of the Greeks not the least is his answer
to the question Is it better to marry or remain
single? He might have argued right ably for
either, and thus left a record of himself as a great
advocate. But he only answered You will regret
whichever you do.
1901.
Marriage halves men, parentage doubles them.
XXIV.
OF FRIEND AND ENEMY.
1902.
There is a friend who only gives, and there is a
friend who only takes. My friend must be one
who gives and takes.
1903.
Asking a favor may secure a friend as readily
as bestowing one.
1904.
Who longs for a friend is worthy of one ; not so
he who is ever seeking a friend.
1905.
Folk keep on their shelves many boxes labelled
Friendship, but only one contains the sweetmeats
with the flavor of the divine . . .
1906.
Two men cannot be your friends; who is not
friend to himself, who is friend only to himself.
1907.
One boon is ever granted us: so to serve our
friends that when they are laid away we may
lament only our loss and not our delinquency.
1908.
Friendship with a man is friendship with his
virtues or your vices.
318 APHORISMS
1909.
Faithful friendship is like the needle: which
speedily repairs its punctures with the thread
in its wake.
1910.
Letters between friends are always necessary,
answers often, replies hardly ever.
1911.
Who shows me his fault may be my friend.
Who shows me mine is my friend.
1912.
Disappointment in friends is its own consola-
tion, if it draw us closer to the One Friend . . .
1913-
Happy he who hath a friend in need, but
happier he who hath Him for friend who maketh
all other friends needless.
1914.
Friendships were meant to be like radii of a
circle: straight from circumference to center.
They are mostly like spokes of the hub ; touching
the circumference everywhere, the centre nowhere.
1915-
Acquaintances are valued most when new;
friendships, when old.
1916.
Putty friendships : those founded on a common
hatred.
1917.
The moon, earth's constant companion, turns
only one side to us, and we never see the other.
OF FRIEND AND ENEMY 319
Friends have oft to turn to us only their one side,
and then we wonder why they are so one-sided.
1918.
And the one-sided friends are generally,
like the moon, of most service only when it is
night . . .
1919.
We think we trust another. It is only our
judgment of him we trust. Not your friend has
deceived you, you have been deceiving yourself.
1920.
A species of cruelty in which even the best
friendship can indulge: overloading one already
overburdened.
1921.
' 'That person knows me best!" Not yet, sir,
he only misknows you least.
1922.
Friendship with the opposite sex is risking
unlimited capital for limited profits.
1923.
Platonic friendship is an agreement to surrender
the walls in the vain hope of keeping the enemy
from the city itself.
1924.
Our best friend is only without us, our worst
enemy is both without and within us.
1925.
What ought to surprise us is not so much why
we have so many enemies as why we have so
many friends.
32o Aphorisms
1926.
We make more enemies by our tongues than
friends by our hearts ; and as many by the things
we do not as by those we do.
1927.
Two things we may ever believe to be sincere:
praise from our enemies, blame from our friends.
1928.
It is easier to forgive an enemy than a friend.
1929.
A foolish friend is only less dangerous than a
wise enemy.
1930.
A man's friends may not alwa3rs.be a credit to
him; his enemies always should be.
Who has many friends is probably a good man,
who has many enemies is almost surely one.
1932.
A man will have friends as long as he can still
harm; he will not lack enemies as long as he can
only benefit.
1933-
"I have not an enemy in the world !" is either
a boast or a delusion. If you are a very good man
or even, only a good man, you already have
enemies. If you are a bad man, you will surely
yet have them.
1934.
Your enem3 T will misunderstand even your
speech. Your friend must not misunderstand
even your silence.
OF FRIEND AND ENEMY 32 I
1935-
Two things I find it highly profitable to study :
the failings of my friends, the virtues of my
enemies.
1936.
When you make enemies by the dozen you will
find them real enough. When you make friends
by the dozen you will find them not so real.
1937-
With your grief even your enemy can sympa-
thize; with your joy, only your friend.
1938.
What is bad about us we surely learn from our
enemies. What is good about us, not so surely
from our friends.
1939-
There are four ways of overcoming an enemy :
the first is love — show it to him; the second is a
gift — take it to him; the third is separation —
impose it upon him ; the fourth is force — leave it to
God to apply it to him.
1940.
However bad a man, he will surely have some
friends; however good, not so surely.
1941.
To mean all you say is a sure way of making
friends. To say all you mean is a surer way of
making enemies.
1942.
The eyes of our friends cost us as much as the
tongues of our enemies.
3 22 APHORISMS
1943.
Friendship may speak where love would be
silent. It will be silent where love often speaks.
1944.
Is he my friend who loves me? He may yet
not understand me. Is he my friend who under-
stands me? He may yet not love me. But who
understands me because he loves me, who loves
me because he understands me — he is my friend.
1945.
There is no true friendship without much love;
there is much love without true friendship.
1946.
No enemy is more dangerous than the fool :
against a straw even the giant pounds in vain.
1947.
Three men are my friends : who loves me, who
hates me, who is indifferent to me. Who loves
me teaches me tenderness, who hates me teaches
me caution, who is indifferent to me teaches me
self-reliance.
1948.
A good cause seldom fails through the judicious-
ness of its enemies; oftener through the inju-
diciousness of its friends.
XXV.
OF GENEROSITY AND GIVING.
1949.
The mark of a generous soul : to give as an act
of justice what is really a favor. The mark of a
mean soul : to give as a favor what is only an act
of justice.
1950.
It may need as much generosity to take as to
give.
Generosity is not always a part of giving. It is
often part of taking.
1952.
Are you my debtor? Not if I gave cheerfully.
And certainly not if I gave grudgingly.
1953-
Who gives only what he can spare pays only a
debt. A gift is what you cannot spare.
1954.
He gives truly who makes the receiver , the
obliger.
1955-
It needs only distress to know how to receive.
It needs more than kindness to know how to give.
1956.
It needs a little care to know to whom to give,
it needs much care to know from whom to receive.
324 APHORISMS
Our most expensive possessions are often those
received as gifts.
1958.
The receiver should measure a gift by its value
to the giver. The giver by its value to the
receiver.
1959-
The quantity of the gift is in its quality.
i960.
The richest part of the gift must be in that which
money cannot buy.
1961.
A man can receive only what he already has.
He can give only w^hat he can never lose.
1962.
By giving men often pay debts and as often
contract them.
1963.
The greater the gift, the louder its call to be
used nobly.
1964.
It may not always require generosity to give;
it may oft need grace to withhold.
1965.
You who make the sacrifice consider the hard-
ship of having to accept your sacrifice.
1966.
Sacrifice is a misnomer. If you do not get
something better in return you have made no
sacrifice.
OF GENEROSITY AND GIVING 325
1967.
The one word the world has no right to is —
sacrifice. Sacrifice is what is laid on the altar, a
gift to God, a voluntary return to Him of what has
ever been his, the loan being now only called in.
Sacrifice, then, to be worth aught must be made
cheerfully, yea joyfully. The scarifice rendered
with screwed up mouth, after lengthy parleyings
with heaven, is not yet sacrificing, but only the
getting ready therefor. It is the breaking of the
shell, out of which the nut shall ere long roll out of
itself without further hammering.
XXVI.
MEN AND THINGS.
1968.
It is easier to live for men than with men.
1969.
Man is God's crowning work in visible nature,
but even with the best of men we may at times
be offended; with nature, never. Nature offends
not our self-love; while man, the more God-like
he is, the sooner he offends our self-love.
1970.
Men are meant to become fountains sending
forth refreshing waters; most of them are apt
to become vortexes drawing in all the mire around
them.
1971.
Men are never so forgetful of what they should
do in their own place as when telling what they
would do in another's place.
1972.
Men are restless until they revolve around
their centre. Most men create it for themselves:
the superior man seeks until he finds the one
made for him.
1973-
Men crave more the certainty of having things
than the things themselves.
1974.
Men differ from themselves only less than from
one another.
MEN AND THINGS 327
1975-
Men dislike more those frojn whom they differ
than they like those with whom they agree.
1976.
Men do little from reason; much from passion,
and most from neither.
1977.
Men first seek their own good; they then per-
suade themselves that it is for the good of others.
1978.
Men often underestimate themselves con-
sciously; they never thus overestimate them-
selves.
1979.
Men own only what they use, they inherit only
what they give away.
1980.
Men sigh for calm till they have it; and then
they sigh because it is calm.
1981.
Men view their own actions and those of others
with the same telescope, but from its opposite
ends.
1982.
Men wear their plus sign in front of them; for
their minus sign you have to look in their rear.
1983.
It is with men as with oranges: the thinner
their skin, the finer their flavor.
328 APHORISMS
1984.
Most men are like onions: a small core with
a number of layers': with what pungency there is
being only in the layers.
1985.
Nature's work is justified by its results; man's
must be justified by his intentions.
1986.
Of four things every man has more than he
knows: of sins, of debts, of friends, of foes.
1987.
The crystal gets its lustre and display of color
from the presence of its corners. Man can dis-
play his lustre only in their absence.
The fish is made for the depths, the bird for
the heights. Man is made for both and for all
that is between.
1989.
The greater, the man, the plainer is his greatness
in sight, and the harder it is seen.
1990.
The heart of man is made first for accepting
sorrow, then for giving love, and only lastly for
receiving love. The will of man seeks to reverse
this order.
1991.
Mankind consists of the wise, the foolish, and
the semi-wise (or semi-foolish). The wise —
what little they do know they know that they
know ; and the much they do not know they know
MEN AND THINGS 329
that they do not know. The fools — what little
they do know, they know that they know; and
the much they do not know they know that they
know. The semi-wise, the vast majority of folk,
know what little they do know, but are wholly
ignorant of the much they do not know.
1992.
The freer the man the more ties he has.
1993-
The merely kind man gives alms to the living;
the delicate man provides also a tomb for the
dead.
1994.
Man has perhaps, therefore, been given two
ears that he might hear both sides, not one.
1995-
" The individual must give way to the mass! "
But the mass consists only of that very individual
and others like him . . .
1996.
The least each can do is to add one more good
man to the world; and yet this is essentially his
whole task.
1997.
Two men are not yet themselves : who has too
little of self, who has too much.
1998.
Most men first wish, then believe, then prove.
1999.
To be kept good man must ever grow better.
330 APHORISMS
2000.
Men can defile one another, they cannot
cleanse one another.
2001.
Two things we ere long find sadly true: that
every man's fate is no more than he deserves;
that every man's opportunity comes at least once
to him, but is rarely made most of.
2002.
Two men are to be pitied : who cannot get
what he ought to have, who at last gets what he
ought not to have.
2003.
Three things are needful to make the complete
man: to see things truly, to estimate their value
rightly, to use them properly.
2004.
Against mere sand even the hammer strikes in
vain.
2005.
A great art : to hold your umbrella in the direc-
tion of the wind.
2006.
A great fraud : to extract all the good and pass
it off as a sample of the rest. Most reputations
are frauds of this sort.
2007.
A great landscape can be seen through a small
hole.
2008.
A great misfortune: for one person to need
two to wait upon him.
MEN AND THINGS 33 I
2009.
All thinking men have the same chest of
drawers, but they differ in the classification of
their contents.
2010.
A man is hardly ever as good as his own praise
of himself; he is nearly always as bad as his own
condemnation of himself.
2011.
By two things a man is known : by his manner
of bestowing praise, by his manner of receiving
blame.
2012.
A man is seldom his own best friend, often his
own worst enemy.
2013.
A man of narrow views deserves our pity; the
man of wide views needs it.
2014.
A man's faults appear most in his presence;
his merits in his absence.
2015.
A man's shadow seldom disappears with him-
self.
2016.
A miscalculation: that because two heads are
better than one, half a head is better than none.
2017.
A man is not fit for heaven until he finds earth
too small for him first, too large afterwards.
22
332 APHORISMS
20l8.
A needful lesson in geography : that the far is
reached only through the near.
2019.
Physical enemies are best fought at close range;
spiritual, at long range.
2020.
Peace may be obtained by yielding to another;
only strife by yielding to ourselves.
2021.
Physicians' houses are built on the heads of the
careless; lawyers' houses on the heads of the
perverse.
2022.
Teach men only what to think and they never
learn how to think. Teach men how to think,
they will soon learn what to think.
2023.
That a man's future is God's secret is as it
should be. That a man's past be only his own
secret is not as it should be.
2024.
The best way to hear a man is to see him.
2025.
The fear of doing wrong may keep one from
doing wrong. The fear of not doing right will
keep one from doing right.
2026.
The fragrance of the wood adds naught to its
heat! Well, mayhap the fragrance was meant
to save it from being used for mere heat . . .
MEN AND THINGS 333
2027.
The ill brought on us by ourselves is oftenest
done wittingly ; and this is what makes it sad. The
ill brought on us by others is oftenest done un-
wittingly, and this is what makes it still sadder.
2028.
The ill in folk is disliked more intensely than
the good in them is liked.
2029.
The less men know, the harder they find it to
believe the natural; the more they know, the
easier they believe the' supernatural.
2030.
The less we know, the less we have to teach;
the more we know, the fewer we have to teach.
2031.
The more we know the more things we can
believe, the fewer folk we can trust.
2032.
" The light attracts those miserable moths! V
Well, friend, you cannot have the one without
the other. And it is for thee to choose : darkness
without or light with moths.
2033.
The most can be known only of those of whom
there is little to be known. Who have much in
them to know are little known even to those who
know them most.
2034.
The greatest difficulties are found where least
expected; the greatest successes do not come
whence they are most sought.
334 APHORISMS
2035.
The finest glass can be broken by a pebble.
2036.
There are heads that have an abundance of
ideas on all manner of subjects, only they need
canals to unite them.
2037.
There are times when the least one can do is to
do much; and the most one can do is to do little.
2038.
On two occasions I put my hands to my ears:
when the voices are too high, when the tempera-
ture is too low.
2039.
There is more hope for one who does the wrong
thing rightly than for one who does the right
thing wrongly.
2040.
The value of the coin is determined by its metal
and size; but the size is determined by the metal,
not the metal by the size.
2041.
The void of what we miss is greater than the
space it would fill.
2042.
Those we overestimate cause us speedy sorrow ;
those we underestimate cause us only slow regret.
2043.
To be faithful to one's standard is to be a man
of integrity; to cling only to one's standard is to
be a man of anarchy.
MEN AND THINGS 335
2044.
To live according to one's own law is only an-
other way of drifting without law.
2045.
To be of true service you must know two
things : his need, your capacity.
2046.
To see what is bad in a thing you must possess
it. To see what is good in a thing you need only
to wish to possess it.
2047.
To think clearly we must entertain many useless
thoughts. To feel finely, we need only one noble
sentiment.
2048.
To use ends as a means is the sin of the deceiver.
To use means as ends is the sin of the deceived.
2049.
Two men equally err: who corrects his watch
by every clock he passes; who always goes by
his own watch.
2050.
Two souls lose our affection after gaining it:
who progresses not with us, who has progressed
beyond us.
2051.
Unlike the trainload men are better pushed
than pulled.
2052.
We must laugh as children and weep as men.
336 APHORISMS
2053-
We reach out after that piece of polish to grasp
it; and lo, it is full of pricks.
2054.
What is bad in us is ours ; what is good in us is
only a loan from above to become ours with
interest by good use of the principal.
2055-
What is had to be. It is only a question whether
because of God's wisdom or your foolishness.
2056.
Easy as it is to attract the attention of the
world ; it is still easier to be forgotten by it.
2057.
When others are deaf, must I shout? No, I
will not even whisper.
2058.
Who is all honey attracts only flies.
2059.
Who looks only downward will ere long find
himself walking on graves. Who looks upward
finds himself walking under the stars.
2060.
Who never expects to rise never will rise. Who
never expects to fall will surely fall.
2061.
Who regretfully lives in the past wastes himself
away. Who fearfully worries over the future
wears himself away. Who thoughtlessly lives
only in the present fritters himself away.
MEN AND THINGS 337
2062.
Who squints sees double, but not therefore
twice as much.
2063.
Who steps not upon a worm will not tread upon
a serpent.
2064.
Who walks on tiptoe is a little taller thereby,
but he touches earth at fewer points.
2065.
Why shall I admire in a copy what I do not
admire in the original?
2066.
You may not always be better than others.
You can always be better than yourself.
2067.
You who are so ready to inform God of the
remedy best for your ailment, tell me — are you
the physician?
2068.
Who wishes to enjoy the mildness of the vale
must be content to stay below. Who wishes to
dwell on the mount must be ready for the chill
above.
2069.
With an unwounded hand even poison may be
touched ; with a wounded hand hardly even what
is not poison.
2070.
The only thing worth looking into, to go into
its very depths, is a human soul. Now most folk
being starved for the sight of a soul contrive to
338 APHORISMS
put one of their own make into some soulless
thing; with result indeed of temporary satisfac-
tion, but only to find ere long that froth quenches
no thirst, however much of liquidity it hath in
appearance.
2071.
Imaginative minds stumble over analogies,
logical minds over syllogisms.
2072.
What men do not wish they easily prove to be
impossible.
2073.
Every man has his demon within him, his
angel only nigh him . The demon, to be conquered,
must be fought. The angel, to be driven away,
need only be neglected.
2074.
Every man is a binary star visible as one to the
naked eye, but the telescope soon reveals the dark
body with which it has a common motion.
2075.
Everyone has a weakness, but it does not be-
come his weakness until it ceases to be hated.
2076.
For doing good even the best are often helpless ;
for doing ill even the meanest are ever able
enough.
2077.
"I am the ashes of sandal wood" ! If only you
were more fragrant than any other ashes!
MEN AND THINGS 339
2078.
"I have power to disturb thee!" — Well, so has
the mosquito.' — "I have power to destroy thee!"
— So has the microbe.
2079.
They have tied the tongue of the bell and it
cannot ring. Then throw a stone at it and it
will ring.
2080.
Things are best judged the nearer we approach
them; men, the further we recede from them,
2081.
Those whom we think worse off than ourselves
generally are so ; those whom we think better off
are seldom so.
2082.
I read biography and history rather than fiction
and poetry because I prefer to be with men rather
than things, and to deal with facts rather than
feelings.
2083.
It is easy enough to live for the many beyond
us, the difficulty is in living with the few around
us.
2084.
It is easy to see what another should do because
we look at him as standing in our place. But
what is needed is for us to stand in his.
2085.
It is on rough paper that the writing rubs out
easiest.
34° APHORISMS
2086.
To be ever preparing for the storm is a misfor-
tune only inferior to being in the storm.
2087.
To do more than we need is to run the risk of
doing less.
2088.
It is the laden bough that hangs low.
2089.
It is the sweetest wine that gives the sourest
vinegar.
2090.
It is the little sticks that set the great log on fire.
2091.
'Tis the loaded tree that is stoned.
2092.
It is not enough to carry a compass ; we must
also keep the magnet away.
2093.
It matters little how widely swelled are the
sails, it matters much how firm is the mast.
2094.
It matters not a little whence you come, and it
matters much where you are ; but it matters most
whither you are bound.
2095.
It may require years to keep what may be ac-
quired in a moment. It takes but a moment to
lose what it took years to acquire.
MEN AND THINGS 34 1
2096.
Know your own worth — the world will soon ap-
praise you at your true value. Live out your own
worth — the world will soon take you at your own
price.
2097.
To know a man it is enough that he visit me;
to understand him I must visit him.
2098.
Two cold hands can rub each other warm.
2099.
Two things are equally hard: to speak of a
man's merits in his presence with discretion, to
speak of a man's faults in his absence with love.
2100.
Two things make a speaker powerful: his
hearers' feelings which they bring with them, his
own doings which he has behind him.
2 10 1.
Two things men ever find easily: the duty of
others, the excuse for not doing their own.
2102.
Not only the chill from without mars the clear-
ness of the pane, but also the warmth from with-
in.
2103.
Of importance is not so much that something
be done as that one be rightly doing something.
2104.
There are folk who lament that they cannot
reach unto the moon, and it is generally those who
cannot keep even their feet on earth.
34 2 APHORISMS
2105.
There are things one likes to see broken — they
can then be thrown away.
2106.
The lover of goodness cannot but be a good man,
the lover of beauty can still be a bad man.
2107.
What is insinuated into our system lasts longer
than what is hammered in. A screw holds faster
than a nail.
2108.
What is willingly done may sometimes have to
be regretted. What is reluctantly done has nearly
always to be regretted.
2109.
Where one is reviled only one is to blame ; where
one is offended, probably two are to blame.
2110.
While being done the mischief seldom seems as
great as it is. After it is done the mischief is
seldom as little as it seems.
2111.
Who begins with talking much of self-respect
will end with acting much from self -admiration.
2112.
Who does right without being able to help it
has risen to the height of man. Who does wrong
without being able to know it has sunk to the
depth of the beast.
2113.
Unqualified praise may be injudicious, unquali-
fied blame surely is.
MEN AND THINGS 343
2114.
Useful we all must be, only we need not be
mere utensils.
2115.
We all wear the same garments ; it is the roads
we travel that determine their stains.
2116.
We are vessels without responsibility for shapes
and sizes. Our part is only to keep them full and
clean.
2 1 1 7 .
Welcome the day, prize the hours, respect the
minutes, mind the seconds — and the eternal years
may yet be thine.
2118.
Were heaven to rain only gold pieces we should
soon note only the rattle on the roof.
2119.
What counts against a man is not so much what
he is not as what he does not try to be.
2120.
Let earth and moon war over the tides as best
they may. The wise mariner runs out with the
moon and runs in with the earth.
2121.
Let it be proclaimed from the housetops of the
rich, the educated, the refined, that it is the
higher branches that are meant to take the scorch-
ing, and to shade the lower . . .
2122.
Men attain their ends less through their own
wisdom than through the blunders of others.
344 APHORISMS
2123.
Men hear only what they understand; they
see only what interests them ; they feel only what
touches them.
2124.
Men learn to like even the distasteful bitters.
Shall we then not learn to like the disagreeable
duties, which are, after all, so many bitter —
tonics ?
2125.
Most people's noses are too short; their
tongues too long.
2126.
Our eyes are set in front rather than in the back
of our heads for several reasons ; but the obvious
one is that we be looking forward rather than
backward.
2127.
Every age seems to its saints the most corrupt,
and this justly. For every age is bad enough, and
theirs is the worst they know.
2128.
Every generation has its own golden calves,
and they are invariably made of the trinkets of
the common people.
2129.
Their religion men are apt to use as they use
their life preservers: only during the wreck.
2130.
One of the most needful arts is to know when to
accomplish most by doing — nothing.
MEN AND THINGS 345
2131.
One side can be heard with both ears ; both
sides must be looked at with a single eye.
2132.
Only he is fit to go to the top who can if need be
descend to the bottom.
The greatness of a soul is marked by the amount
it is first eager to know, and then content not to
know.
2134.
The greater the man the more he sees of God
without himself, the less within himself.
2i35-
The greater the man the more he is like the
railway engine: which varies the pitch of its
whistle with the distance from which it is heard.
2136.
The only man of genius is the man of heart;
all else is cleverness, ability and talent. But this
is sail and tackle, not ship. Happy the case if
they prove not to be mere barnacle . . .
2i37-
It is the mark of a great mind that he forgets
what the common mind remembers, and remem-
bers what the common mind forgets.
2138.
To discern things that differ shows an acute
mind. To discern their good and evil marks the
upright mind.
346 APHORISMS
2139.
Not a man but he is untrustworthy because
the verdict hath gone forth: There is none good,
no, not one. But it is the glory of the human
heart that though we know this to be true of
man we yet approach folk as if they were trust-
worthy, and are highly surprised and grieved and
even angered when, true to their record, they
disappoint or even deceive us.
2140.
To be upset by praise is surely the mark of
a small soul ; but to be upset by censure is not so
surely the mark that one is not a great soul.
2141.
No one is great who places the wrong value
upon space and time.
2142.
It is the mark of a small soul to be most anxious
to give what is not in him to give.
2143.
The wish to possess not what we need but what
others like stamps the small soul.
2144.
Not all hunger is a sign of want of food. Not
all ambition is a sign of power to carry it out.
2145-
Not all closed eyes are signs of sleep. Not all
open eyes are signs of sight.
2146.
Folk love in others mostly the reflection of
themselves. " I like him " means I am like him.
MEN AND THINGS 347
2147.
A gentleman is one who always remembers
others and never forgets himself.
2148.
The generous man is he who feels himself most
in debt.
2149.
Three things make the complete man: the
strength of a man, the tenderness of a woman, the
simplicity of a child.
2150.
What one is apart from his environment — that
is he. Unfortunately it is then that most folk
prove to be just zeroes.
2151.
The one little failing he cannot overcome, the
one great passion that overcomes him — this is
after all the man . . .
2152.
" This is his one failing, and so small at that!"
Beg pardon. No one failing but causes failure in
other things ; and it is this that makes the failure
so great.
" It is surely a gigantic passion that could
master such gigantic spirit! " Not at all. The
bull is controlled not by huge fetters around his
limbs but by the small ring in his nose.
2i54-
One drop shows the salt of the ocean, one deed
shows the taste of the man.
23
348 APHORISMS
2155-
One drop shows the quality of the ocean,
but not yet its extent. One deed shows the
character of the man, but not yet his size.
2156.
So valuable a thing is human goodness that the
true measure of life must after all be our moods :
the golden moments rather than the brass days,
the royal hours rather than the plebeian years.
2157-
" He is beside himself! " No, not beside his
deepest self ...
2158.
Only he is himself who has no longer any self to
be.
2159.
It is the irony of life that though the heart is
above the stomach, it is the stomach that sup-
ports it.
2160.
A man's temperament can only hinder his suc-
cess, his talent may even prevent it. Hence, the
more frequent failure of the more gifted than the
less gifted.
2161.
Both the bad man and the good man have to
be undeceived about folk by bitter experience.
The bad man, because he thinks all as bad as he.
The good man, because he thinks all as good as he.
2162.
Character like the ocean should be measured
not by the height it attains during the storm, but
by the level it retains during the calm.
MEN AND THINGS 349
2163.
Common sense is only a sense of proportion.
2164.
Familiarity breeds contempt only for the noble ;
familiarity with the mean breeds contentment
therewith.
2165.
Few can tell what they know without also
showing what they do not know.
2166.
Foolish as is foolish censure, foolish praise is
still more so.
2167.
For declaring a thing beautiful the voice of
one is enough; for declaring a thing ugly the
voice of at least two is needful.
2168.
Good hearing consists not so much in hearing
all sounds as in hearing the necessary sounds.
2169.
It is easy to know a man from the manner in
which he praises; not so easy to know him from
the manner in which he censures.
2170.
I used to be anxious to accomplish much good
in the world. I am now content if I do but little
harm.
2171.
Do ill to men — they will surely hate you. Do
good to men — they will not so surely love you.
3 SO APHORISMS
2172.
I used to have much faith in the indiscriminate
spread of knowledge until I learned that the
utility of candles ends at the powder magazine.
2i73-
Jealousy is love standing on its head.
2174.
Jealousy consists in much love for the other,
and still more for self.
2i75-
Many are able to fill a high place; few are
worthy thereof.
2176.
Nature teaches the great soul to shrink from
being seen ; experience teaches the great soul to
shrink from seeing.
2177.
Next to the strength for action, I pray for the
strength to endure inaction.
2178.
None are so unreasonable as those who always
exact reasonableness.
2179.
Not only the chill from without mars the
clearness of the pane, but also the warmth from
within.
2180.
Of importance is not so much that something
be done as that one be doing something.
MEN AND THINGS 35 1
2181.
One's integrity may stand in the way of success
in small matters. One's lack of integrity will
stand in the way of success in great matters.
2182,
Our own eyes cost us little; 'tis others' eyes
that cost us much.
2183.
Tact is momentary love even for the common;
taste is abiding love only for the beautiful.
2184.
Talents are a man's guard of honor when he is
dead; his prison sentinels while he is alive.
2185.
The best remedy against annoyance from
small things is to battle with great.
2186.
The cry for young ministers is rebellion not so
much against gray heads as against gray hearts.
2187.
The envious fire with an inverted gun : the
kick goes from them, the shot goes into them. .
2188.
The progress of the soul is measured as much
by what it parts with as by what it acquires.
2189.
There are two ways of rising above the water:
by swimming and by — corruption.
352 APHORISMS
2190.
The shallow see aught ridiculous in almost
everything; the profound in hardly anything.
2191.
To be a good root, feeling must be passionate;
to be its good fruit, its expression must be dis-
passionate.
2192.
The surest way to reveal your weakness is to
hide your motives.
2193.
The swollen arm is not the stronger for its size.
2194.
The too serious are easily forgiven, not so
easily the too witty.
2195.
To change iron into gold you need only work
it into hair-springs.
2196.
To destroy one's estate it needs a conflagra-
tion; to rob him of his peace a mosquito is enough.
2197.
To do evil that good may come is to climb to
heaven by way of hell.
2198.
To keep the medium in all things is the true
mark of what is not mediocre.
2199.
To shine the gem must be polished.
MEN AND THINGS 3 53
2200.
To know the good is not yet the blessing, to
know the bad is already an injury.
2201.
To make good use of great abilities is easy;
the difficulty is in making good use of the small
abilities.
2202.
To remain as good as we are, we must ever
strive to become better than we are.
2203.
To see things as they are is running the risk of
becoming insane. To insist on having all things
as they should be^is to be already insane.
2204.
Uniform gentleness of manner is like pure rain
water, but often as insipid.
2205.
Unspeakable bitterness : to arrive at a piont
where the stranger is shunned because he is not
known; the acquaintance because he is known.
2206.
While being done the mischief seldom seems as
great as it is; after it is done, the mischief is sel-
dom as. small as it seems.
2207.
Who is condemned by all is only worse off than
he who is praised by all.
354 APHORISMS
2208.
Who keeps his purse in his pocket does well;
better he who puts it into his head ; best he who
deposits it overhead.
2209.
Who strikes out a new path must be content to
be lost.
2210.
The small man in time also discovers the
greatness of man. It is the discovery that he
himself is small that marks the great man.
2211.
In knowledge the important thing is not so
much how you know as what you know. In life
the important thing is not so much what you live
as how you live it.
2212.
Patience has a bitter bark, but a sweet fruit.
2213.
Selfishness is only another name for short-
sightedness.
2214.
Self love makes men keen about others, but
keeps them blind about themselves.
2215.
Sobriety to be truly divine must be cheerful;
mirth to be truly human must be sober.
2216.
The surest way to win a victory is to push on;
the surest way to enjoy it is to stop short.
MEN AND THINGS 355
2217.
To see a thing best you must no longer see it.
2218.
To understand me he need not be my equal;
but to misunderstand me he must be my inferior.
2219.
There is an eloquence in the originals that can
be easily reproduced in portraits, but there is an
eloquence in portraits that is seldom observed in
their originals.
2220.
There is a greatness which is only like the oasis ;
gaining its distinction from the desert which sur-
rounds it.
2221.
The penalty of walking among apes is an oc-
casional cocoanut shot at your head.
2222.
The possession of what we need is comparatively
inexpensive; it is the possession of what others
like that is so expensive.
2223.
The fall itself may be even a blessing, at most
it is only a misfortune. The catastrophe is in the
inability to rise.
2224.
To be happy one needs to know but little; to
be good he must know much; to be useful he
must know neither too much nor too little.
356 APHORISMS
2225.
The greatest difficulties are apt to be found
where least expected, the greatest successes come
only after being much expected.
2226.
Two minds are quickly made up: the very
great, the very small.
2227.
Law is always a necessity; freedom, seldom
more than a luxury.
2228.
Whoever wishes to become richer is not yet
rich. Whoever wishes to become better is al-
ready good.
2229.
Two things will ever be contradicted: what is
reasonable and what is unreasonable.
2230.
True progress consists more in diminishing our
needs than in increasing our wants.
2231.
To be interested only in little things is the
mark of a small soul. To be interested even in
little things is the mark of a great soul.
XXVII.
OF SPEECH AND SILENCE.
2232.
Only that is speech which is better than silence.
2233.
To learn to speak several languages is easy;
the difficulty is to learn to be silent in one.
2234.
"Bah, bah!" To sneer you have to open your
mouth wide. "Hm, hm!" To sympathize you
need not even open your lips.
2235-
The more deeply one feels the more he speaks ;
the more profoundly one knows, the more silent
he is.
2236.
The unspoken word may yet become your
servant; the spoken word is already your master.
2237.
The silent are nearly always wrong in the short
run; they are seldom wrong in the long run.
2238.
To say anything merely for the sake of saying
something is a sure way of saying nothing.
2239.
Two words where one will do weakens the
effect of even that one.
358 APHORISMS
2240.
Who says little has said enough ; who says much
has said but little; who says all has hardly said
anything yet.
2241.
Where I am understood nothing more need be
said; where I am not understood nothing more
can be said.
2242.
Of dialects we may need several ; of tongues we
need only one.
2243.
We learn to speak more from the use of our 1
ears than from the use of the tongue.
2244.
Who does not learn to speak from the use of his|
ears will have to unlearn it from the use of his
tongue.
2245.
Men have two ears — they hear mostly with one;|
they have one tongue — they speak mostly with
two.
2246.
Long speeches make short patience.
2247.
"Talk is cheap!" Beg pardon, idle talk is cheap,
and even this only in the short run. All talk is
dear in the long run.
2248.
A little seeing saves much looking; a little
speaking saves much talking.
OF SPEECH AND SILENCE 359
2249.
Go to the oyster, thou prattler, and learn to be
useful only with thy mouth pried open.
2250.
A much forgotten truth: that light travels a
millionfold faster than sound.
2251.
The empty cask rattles when rolled. Empty
folk do not wait with the rattling till they are
rolled.
2252.
Smooth speech does not betoken a smooth heart,
not even a smooth head.
2253-
You do not sweeten your mouth by saying
honey. You do not grow virtuous by talking
virtue.
2254.
To build up by your words what your deeds are
breaking down is to pump by the cupful into a
leak by the barrel.
2255-
Folk seldom see with their own eyes, they
always speak from their own heart.
2256.
Two things are equally hard: to speak of one's
merits in his presence with discretion ; to speak of
one's faults in his absence with love.
2257.
In action we often need exuberance; in speech
we can never dispense with restraint.
360 APHORISMS
2258.
Many a fine sermon doth nature preach
on the ever-neglected text of silence. Not the
roaring thunder smites, but the silent lightning;
and gravity which bindeth worlds together, and
light which flasheth from star unto star, are ever
silent. Prettily too doth the silent snow cover
the ground, and make it like a table spread for a
feast; unlike the noisy rain which after making
goodly puddles quickly runneth off.
2259.
There is a hesitation of speech more eloquent
than many a passionate outburst.
2260.
To be misunderstood is easier in your own
tongue than in a foreign one.
2261.
Speech may not always be wise, but silence is
never foolish.
2262.
Know all you say, say not all you know.
2263.
To be communicative is nature; art is to be
judiciously communicative.
2264.
To contradict conceit in order to instruct it is
to pour oil on the fire in order to put it out.
2265.
An argument generally begins with the wish of
only proving that you are right. It ends with
the wish to prove that the other is wrong.
OF SPEECH AND SILENCE 361
2266.
Discussion is about differences, conversation is
about different things, talk is about indifferent
things.
2267.
The narrower the minds, the louder their dis-
cussions; like the railway trains: the narrower
the view therefrom, the louder its rattle.
2268.
To enter into a dispute is to risk a double eagle
for the sake of gaining a mill.
2269.
To dispute against a man is to show that you
do not yet understand him.
2270.
Never try to change a man by argument from
what he was led into by aught else than argu-
ment.
2271.
Dispute first hardens the heart, then darkens
the mind and deafens the ear; and last, shuts
the mouth? No, it only opens it the wider.
2272.
It is always vital to hold right opinions ; not so
vital always to uphold them.
2273.
It is the reasons not given that are usually
decisive.
2274.
Two men do not yet understand a matter : who
laughs at it, who disputes about it.
XXVIII.
THE STATE.
2275.
A bad government, like all else that is bad, is
sure to fall sometime. It is only a question
whether by the people or with the people.
2276.
A constitution may be better than the people
for whom it is established, it is never any stronger.
2277.
Bad laws surely injure. Good laws benefit
not so surely.
2278.
Every democracy has what constitutes its
worm membership: takes interest in public
matters only when the inward corruption is to
come to the surface. Then every one is there to
vote, to vote for the bad thing. These are the
worms, crawling to the surface when it rains:
appearing in mass when putrefaction has set in.
2279.
In a democracy it is like people, like rulers.
In an autocracy is it, Like rulers, like people?
No, it is still, Like people, like rulers.
2280.
Tyranny can indeed make slavery, but only
slaves make tyrants.
THE STATE 363
2281.
During the French Revolution there was only
one man, Napoleon; only one nation of men,
England. And the nation as ever was too much
for the man.
2282.
National corruption begins with the many
not living up to their duties. It ends with the
few living beyond their privileges.
2283.
Holding the reins is not yet driving. In a
monarchy the well meaning rulers are apt to push
the state, the incompetent are apt to drag it.
2284.
The abuses of freedom can always be corrected
in freedom. The abuses of oppression cannot be
corrected in slavery.
2285.
The virtues of a man's private life may easily
become the vices of his public life.
2286.
It is by reason alone that the errors of reasoning
are detected. It is by freedom alone that the
ills of freedom are corrected.
2287.
It is with nations as with shoes : worth mending
only as long as the uppers are good.
2288.
The minority is always the real majority: the
spirtual minority always; the intellectual, often,
the physical hardly ever: except among the de-
graded.
24
364 APHORISMS
2289.
To be convicted the public mind needs at least
a hundred arguments ; to be convinced it may be
content with only one event.
2290.
There are two kinds of mobs : the leaden and the
golden; the one may burn you, the other is pretty
sure to freeze you.
2291.
In democracy the tail ever seeks to swing the
head, and if not successful, then to sting it.
2292.
The demagogue counts the votes, the statesman
weighs them, the politician just — gets them.
2293.
The politician appeals to living men already
dead; the statesman to living men as yet unborn.
2294.
Individuals pay for their extravagance in their
■ own generation; nations pay for it also in the next.
2295.
The population of the United States consists so
far in these days of whites and blacks. But the
only black man so far has been the white man.
2296.
The best way to uncolor the negro's skin is to
uncolor the white man's heart.
2297.
The state may be best ruled by threats and
punishments; the individual, by encouragements
and rewards.
THE STATE 365
2298.
The wisdom of the founders of the American
Republic is seen in their laying a ^foundation as if
for a tower, though building for their imme-
diate need only a hut. The folly of their descen-
dants is in keeping on laying foundations as if for
a hut when actually building a tower.
XXIX.
OF VIRTUE AND VICE.
2299.
Men are apt to be liked more for the vices
they have not than for the virtues they have.
2300.
We make as many enemies by our virtues as
by our vices. And if we have no enemies we had
better look to our virtues.
2301.
The same vices always unite men, the same
virtues, not always.
2302.
There are no petty virtues, and certainly no
petty vices.
2303.
Virtues spring from real needs. Vices chiefly
from imaginary ones.
2304.
Repetition makes vice a habit, virtue only a
pleasure, and even this becomes ere long only a
satisfaction.
2 305-
Vice always makes men hateful, virtue does
not always make them lovable.
2306.
Vice deliberately hid is still vice. Virtue de-
liberately displayed is no longer virtue.
OF VIRTUE AND VICE 367
2307.
Vice without measure is only intensified,
virtue without measure is weakened.
2308.
All have virtue; but rogues have it in their
heads. Honest folk have it in their hearts.
2309.
To seek virtue for the sake of happiness is to
dig for iron with a spade of gold.
2 3io.
Who ever wishes to become richer is not yet rich.
Who ever wishes to become better is already good.
2311.
A neglected but highly profitable study: the
virtues of those we dislike.
2312.
The flower plucked for enjoyment begins to
wither; virtue practiced for reward begins to
vanish.
2 3i3-
Many succeed because of the virtues they have,
and as many because of the virtues they have not.
2314-
We cannot live on last year's food. We can
remain virtuous on last year's virtue.
2315-
Who talks much of sin may still find time to
commit it. Who talks much of virtue finds little
time to practice it.
368 APHORISMS
2316.
Virtues repay only the principal. Vices repay
it with compound interest.
2317-
A common blunder: mistaking its platform for
virtue itself.
2318.
Virtue like perfume is pleasant only as long as it
is not prominent. When obtrusively strong it
repels.
2319.
Virtues like angles must have their comple-
ments, else they come nigh being vices. The
just must also be generous, else he is hard. The
generous must also be just, else he is soft . . .
2320.
In their pursuit of virtue, men may learn
even from the miser: who loves his gold not for
what it brings, but for itself.
2321.
Gold on a farm unbeknown to its owner is of
no value to him. Virtue in a man unbeknown to
him is of much value to him.
2322.
All pay tribute to virtue : honest men with their
hearts; rogues, only with their heads; the politic
man — who without being honest dares not be a
rogue — pays his tribute only with his hands.
23 2 3-
The path of most men to virtue is like that of
the dog when out with his master : forward and
backward over the same track; hence they tire
oft before the end of the journey.
OF VIRTUE AND VICE 369
2324.
To strive for virtue is not yet being virtuous,
but it is next to it.
2325-
The defects of our merits, the vices of our
virtues, spring largely from some overcharge in the
virtue or merit. Men therefore quarrel with the
overcharge. But it is only a case of the oil in the
lamp: of which there ever must be just a little
more than the flame at the moment requires.
2326.
Who leaves his vices will not be long pursued
by them. Who is left by his vices will still be
long pursued by them.
2327.
The vices of individuals after keeping them to-
gether at last separate them. The vices of society
always keep it together.
2328.
The vices of men surely keep them from God,
they not so surely keep men from each other.
XXX.
DEFINITIONS.
2329.
" Help yourself!" Do with mine as if yours.
" Help yourself! " I can do naught for you,
carry your own burden. The one the height of
kindness, the other the acme of unkindness.
Such are words ...
Every word has two senses: one given thereto
by the dictionary; the other put thereon by our
mood that is upon us, the atmosphere about us.
2 33i-
The thunder that crashes into our very ears,
the lightning that flashes into our very eyes, the
storm that lashes o'er our very heads, sending
us swiftly to shelter and cover — how fascinating
a spectacle when seen from the shelter raging
over others.
2332.
In the Hebrew and the Greek, the tongues in
which is writ the Book of God, word and thing
are designated by the same word. This is
Heaven's definition that words are meant to be
things. The relation of words to things is thus
that of the silver and gold certificates: currency
accepted as silver or gold because the specie they
represent is actually in the vaults ; quite different
from the ordinary bank-notes which are mere
promises to pay, without specie behind them.
DEFINITIONS 37 1
2333.
Essential and non-essential — I am beginning to
revise my dictionary here. Is only the front
essential, and the back non-essential? Only the
upper and not the under? He was a wise as well
as great artist who to the question, why do you
finish the back as elaborately as the front,
answered: " Because God sees the back also." . . .
With God nothing is inessential.
2334.
My impressionist painting friend, my Rodin-
esque sculptor friend, do you now see why, though
you may have the making of a great artist in
you, you are after all a mere bungler of a lazy,
if not of a dishonest artist?
2335-
What is truly done is beautifully done; and
if it is not beautifully done, it is because it is not
yet truly done.
2336.
The attempt to define unfamiliar things is
proof that they are not yet understood. The
attempt to define familiar things is proof that
they are no longer understood.
2 337-
Seeing folk are not given to the discussion of
what is Light; nor righteous folk to discussing
of what is Right. Truthful folk are not given to
discussing what is Truth, nor loving folk to dis-
cussing what is Love? But those in darkness are
apt to query: Light — what is it? Those who
tamper with truth are apt to ask, Truth, yes,
what is Truth? And incipient heartlessness asks
372 APHORISMS
readily enough, Is it Love to be kind alway?
And embryonic rascality shelters itself behind the
question, What is right anyhow? . . .
233S.
It is the sick that talk most of health ; the poor
that talk most of wealth.
2 339-
Anatomical dissection is ever proof that Life
has already departed. When Truth is being
dissected, and folk ask, what is Truth? they only
testify to their loss of truth. When happiness is
being dissected, and folk are asking, what is
happiness? they may know comfort, they may,
know distraction, they may even know peace,
but happiness they know no longer. When folk
begin to ask whether it is never wrong to tell
untruths, by putting the question at all they
witness that the lie is already knocking at a half
willing heart with the assurance that it will
in no wise be indignantly driven away, yea, will
mayhap yet be installed in the vacancy left by
Truth fled. And when folk betake themselves to
the discussion of what Religion is, Christianity,
Divinity, it is time not for pausing at the dis-
cussion, but for double-barring the gates and
locking the doors against the sneaks and the
thief s and the burglars that are sure to flock ere
long to such forum . . .
2340.
Pure light has no color — pure truth has no
prejudice. Pure water has no taste — pure love
has no passion. Pure air has no odor — pure
worship has no sensuality.
DEFINITIONS 373
2341.
To learn from all — that is wisdom. To over-
come self — that is strength. To be content with
what you have — that is riches ; to believe what
you cannot see — that is faith.
2342.
To be forbearing to all — that is love. To be
relentless toward self — that is justice. To be
content with what one has — that is riches. To
be discontent with what one is — that is piety.
2343.
There is one remedy for all ills — time; one
balm for all pain — patience; one peace ending
all strife — death ; one light for all darkness — hope ;
one fire melting all hearts — love . . .
2344.
To recognize the vanity of this life is the first
step toward the true life. To perceive our ignor-
ance is the first step toward true knowledge; to
acknowledge our folly is the first step toward
true wisdom; to behold our misery is the first
step toward true happiness.
2345-
The pessimist looks backward; the optimist
looks forward ; the theorist, inward; the practical
man, outward; the good man, the wise man
looks — upward .
2346.
The merely shrewd man keeps his thoughts
in his head, the fool has them on his tongue;
the honest man carries them in his face, the kind
man puts them also into his hands.
374 APHORISMS
2347-*
The first requisite of the mind is elasticity and
keenness ; of the heart steadiness and tenderness ;
of the eye, clearness and depth; of the hand,
thoroughness and dispatch.
2348.
Death is not the greatest ill ; life not the greatest
good; happiness not the noblest end.
2349-
The greatest ill is to die without having lived;
the greatest good, to live only after having died.
2350.
The noblest end is to fulfil one's part, the most
precious boon is to know one's part.
2351-
The greatest earthly boon is to be rightly
employed ; it becomes the greatest earthly blessing
when one is also cheerful at it.
2352.
The greatest earthly blessing is congenial useful
work in health; and if this is not to be had, then
thankful endurance of illth.
2 353-
A necessity is what we cannot afford to miss,
a luxury is what we can afford to lose. We can
afford to lose our lives, we cannot afford to miss
our duties.
23S4-
Duty is conforming thyself to Universe, happi-
ness is conformity of Universe to thyself. By all
means, therefore, set thine heart upon happiness
if assured indeed of Universe conforming to
thyself.
DEFINITIONS 3 75
2355-
Only he is free who is a slave to duty.
2356.
Who does his duty only has not yet done it.
2357-
Only he is good enough who is more than just
good enough.
2358.
Folk call enough as much as they need, but
they are mistaken : one never has enough until
he has just a little more than enough.
2359-
The higher the bell is hung the clearer its tone
to those below; the loftier the man, the obscurer
his speech to those beneath.
2360.
The wider the man the narrower his place.
2361.
The greatest men are like the bells: which
never give their sweetest tones to those nearest
to them.
2362.
In every one there is strife betwixt flesh and
spirit. But in the common it is flesh that lusteth
against the spirit; in the uncommon it is the
spirit that lusteth against the flesh.
2363-
When the natural in man has risen to the
spiritual, and the spiritual has to him become
natural — then indeed has he reached his goal.
376 APHORISMS
2364.
Folk pride themselves upon being a unit, but
the one thing that characterises man is that no
unity is in him. Every one has at least, two
men in him. Happy he who finds in himself only
two.
2365-
Folk think themselves fiddlers designed to
improve by playing. They are only fiddles de-
signed to improve by being played upon.
2366.
Folk think they grow old by living; but they
grow old rather b}^ not living.
2367.
Folk think they can gain aught at another's
expense, but true gain is only at our own.
2368.
I dislike the commercial streak in " It is better
to be right than safe." It is good to be right and
it is good to be safe. But it is idle to build a canal
between goodness and safety.
2369.
There is only one aristocracy, and it is as old
as Paradise, as wide as the earth, and as enduring
as the race : the aristocracy of talent and goodness.
2370.
The definition of man as a biped without wings
was instantly rebuked by producing a plucked
fowl. But the definition is untrue in spirit as well
as in letter. All have wings, only men first fail
to use them, and then forget how to use them.
DEFINITIONS 377
2:3711.
The righteous are called stars in Scripture,
never comets. They are meant to shine and be
steady, not be dragging a giant tail behind a
pigmy head.
2372.
The small soul lives itself in, the great soul
lives itself out.
2373-
The small soul also in time discovers the great-
ness of man. It is the discovery that he himself
is little that marks the great man.
2374.
To be interested only in little things is the mark
of a small soul. To be interested even in little
things is the mark of a. great soul.
2375-
To have many desires is the mark of the small
mind. To have but one longing is the mark of
a great soul.
2376.
The great man is at home only among his
equals. What makes the small man is that he is
at home also among his inferiors.
2377-
The difference between the great soul and the
small is that while both defy conventional law,
the one does it according to the higher law; the
other according to his own law.
2378.
Not to wish to be improved even by oneself
is the mark of the fool. Not to wish to be im-
378 APHORISMS
proved by others is the mark of a small mind.
To cease at last wishing to improve others is the
mark of a great mind.
2379-
The test of greatness is how it deals with
littleness. The proof of littleness is that it deals
only in one way with greatness.
2380.
To deal with small men without growing
thereby smaller yourself; to deal with large folk
without their growing thereby smaller to you;
to deal with both large and small without losing
the true estimate of either — this is greatness.
2381.
Two marks of a royal soul: to be never in a
hurry, to be ever on time.
2382.
The foundation of all greatness is a large faith :
its working power — a still larger hope ; its noblest
fruit — an inmeasurable love.
2383-
Avarice is thrift gone to waste.
2384.
The bigot is one who can see no beauty in the
sunset because sometime in the day the sun has
been uncomfortably warm.
2385-
Foolhardiness is unsuccessful bravery.
2386.
Celebrity is being known mostly to folk one
little cares to know.
DEFINITIONS 379
2387.
" I cannot " on the tongue means mostly " I
will not " in the heart.
2388.
Chance is the name given to our ignorance of
causes.
2389.
Character is will put into shape.
2390.
Climbing is upward creeping.
2391.
Condemnation is a kind of ignorance; harsh-
ness is a kind of cowardice.
2392.
The coward is he who fears not what is danger-
ous, but what is not dangerous.
2393-
Delusion is anemia of spirit; fanaticism is its
plethora. The one accordingly perishes from
starvation; the other dies from apoplexy.
2394.
Despondency is enthusiasm upside down.
2395-
Dissipation is pleasure to the straining point.
2396.
Doubt is the tax paid for useless knowledge.
380 APHORISMS
2397-
Egotism is occupation with self; selfishness is
occupation for self. Egotism is content to be
occupied alone with self. Selfishness is not con-
tent till it sees others also occupied for oneself.
2398.
Fanaticism is truth alcoholised.
2399-
Flattery is homage to a spirit not yours.
2400.
Forgiveness is the crown of justice.
2401.
Not he is free who can do what he wishes, but
who wishes only what he can do.
2402.
Only he is free who is a slave to duty.
2403.
Gossip is putting two and two together and
making it five. Slander is putting two and two
together and still leaving it two.
2404.
Harmony is only proper relation : perceived by
sense it is beauty; by intellect, it is truth; by
feeling, it is love.
2405.
History is not fable agreed upon, but truth
disagreed upon.
2406.
The idealist is one whose wings are developed
at the expense of his feet.
DEFINITIONS 38 1
2407.
Incense is smoke with a reputation.
2408.
Insanity is incompetent eccentricity. Genius is
eccentric competency.
2409.
Law is systematized common sense, with the
system but too often prevailing over the common
sense.
2410.
Laziness is stupidity of will. Anger is stupidity
of heart.
2411.
Obstinacy is the mask under which weakness
hides its lack of strength.
2412.
What is a pearl but the momentary beauty of
a drop of water in sunshine made permanent?
2413.
The rainbow is only rain permeated with sun-
shine.
2414.
Pity is already half piety, but only half.
2415.
Only he possesses a thing truly who under-
stands it.
2416.
Repentance is doubling one's track upon
oneself, but not for the sake of deceiving.
382 APHORISMS
2417.
Fame is reputation in finery when one is still
alive, or in a tomb when one is already dead.
Notoriety is reputation in rags.
2418.
The optimist is one who refuses to look at the
wind until he sees it a gale.
2419.
The pessimist is one who has had more exper-
ience than is good for him, the optimist is one
who has not yet had experience enough.
2420.
To see the good nowhere — that is pessimism,
and this is easy. To see the good everywhere —
that is optimism, and this, too, is not difficult.
But to behold the ill everywhere, yet ever to find
the good somewhere — this is sobriety, and this
is in no wise easy.
2421.
The pessimist is one who first chews the pills
he was only to swallow, and then settles down in
the tunnel through which he was only to pass.
2422.
The originality of the past is the commonplace
of the future. Someone's whilom brilliant
thought is only today's proverb.
2423.
Passion possesses the soul, devotion fills it.
2424.
True resignation is strength of soul yielding
with a smile.
DEFINITIONS 383
2425.
Reverence is the soul on its wings.
2426.
To be even more than half right is still to be
altogether wrong.
2427.
To be wrong in one thing means to be wrong
in many more.
2428.
Rudeness is cruelty with the label off.
2429.
Rumor — a stuffed bird with live wings.
2430.
Selfishness is only another name for short
sightedness.
2431-
Sentimentality is sentiment without depth;
it becomes cant when it is also without truth.
2432.
Sighs are the zephyrs that waft us heavenward.
2433-
Stupidity is only laziness of mind ; folly is also
disease of heart.
2434-
Suspiciousness is the formation of the cataract ;
hatred is its completion.
2435-
A truism is dessicated truth, a commonplace is
withered originality.
2436.
Worry is wasted forethought; regret is wasted
afterthought.
384 APHORISMS
2437-
Most men are mere tendencies all their lives.
It is the mark of a man of genius that he is an
accomplished fact from the moment he is born.
2438.
The test of meekness is more in the manner in
which blame is received than praise.
2439.
The faults of the great are best seen while they
live; their merits when they are dead. Fire is
beholden by night from its flame, by day from
its smoke.
2440.
The highest enthusiasm is not so much like the
glowing furnace; rather like the volcano, glowing
within may be ice-clad without.
2441.
All vulgarity is essentially an overestimate of
self, an underestimate of others: which two are
the front and rear, the upper and the under of the
same vice. Hence, meekness is the first virtue of
man, as conceit, the vulgar form of pride, is his
first vice. And as in carpentering, who has done
much therein is authority against him who has
done naught therein; as in love who hath loved
much is authority against him who has loved not
at all or little — so in religion, which is the science
and art of walking with God, who hath walked
with God is authority against him who hath not
so walked. For the non-carpenter to dispute
about his trade with the carpenter is an imperti-
nence manifest to all. But even the otherwise
courteous sceptic, how insensitive is he here to his
DEFINITIONS 385
own boorishness! Your Socinian, who knows
naught of my Christ — how ready he to lecture
me out of my Lord and God, and to scorn me as
superstitious because I cleave to Him who hath
been tested so oft and found true!
2442.
The vulgar man has no heroes, no reverence,
not even admiration — this is his vulgarity. The
common man, capable of reverence, has some ad-
miration, only he looks upon large folk with a
minifying glass, upon small folk with a magnifying
glass— this is his commonness.
2443-
To look for faults sooner than merits, to look at
faults longer than at merits — this is vulgarity.
2444.
There is no such thing as an accurate, exhaustive
definition of anything. The nearest one can come
to here is to furnish aught definite about the
thing to be defined.
2445-
The truly great are for a long time unknown,
for much of the time misknown, and only seldom
known.
2446.
Our actions influence our reasons more than
our reason influences our actions.
2447.
Nothing keeps so much from delusion as activ-
ity, and nothing keeps so much in delusion.
386 APHORISMS
2448.
Much of advice asked is only approbation
sought.
2449.
Much advice is given from indulgence to others ;
more from indulgence to ourselves.
2450.
It needs much wisdom to take advice, and more
to give it; but most to abstain from giving it.
2451.
I like about the air specially these two things:
though ever-present it is never in the way and
seldom obtrudes; though reaching unto the heav-
ens it lets itself be breathed even by the worm . . .
2452.
To be ever alone in the chamber is bitter
enough; but not so bitter as to be ever alone in
the crowd.
2453-
A not ignoble ambition: to be if even only a
mote in the sunbeam.
2454.
Viewed from the mountain top, the oak is as
slight as the shrub: only rise high enough, and
the highest ambition appears as small as the
petty desire.
2455-
The ambition to rule is not ignoble, neither is
the ambition to please. But the ambition to
rule by pleasing is ignoble. Noble is only the
ambition to please by ruling.
DEFINITIONS 387
2456.
The anarchist is often such from sheer dislike
of lawlessness, and the real anarchist is as often
the excessive stickler for the law as the deliberate
defier thereof.
2457-
Once in a life time the angels knock at every
one's door, but always first in beggar's guise.
2458-
Th e question whether one should ever be
angry is an academic one. The vital question is
whether there is anything at all worth being
angry about.
2459-
The best remedy against annoyance from small
things is to battle with great.
2460.
No answer is also an answer.
2461.
Silence is seldom a good answer, but often the
best answer.
2462.
The best answer to an inconvenient question is
asking another.
2463.
Gain first thine own approval, that of others
will follow.
2464.
We may seldom be able to do one great deed
in a day, and not oft may it be given us to
think one great thought in a day, but at least
one high aspiration we may have every day.
388 APHORISMS
2465.
Ready habitual assent in Conversation is a mark
of a weak head or corrupt heart. Ready habitual
contradiction is a mark of both.
2466.
To attract attention it needs only the bark of
a dog; to repay it it must be the song of the
nightingale.
2467.
For the dog to bark is proper — that is his
nature. It becomes conceit when he thinks his
bark is music.
2468.
To behold the beautiful without becoming the
more beautiful for it yourself is to become less so.
2469.
Simple and appropriate — the essence of the
highest beauty.
2470.
I used to lament the deceitfulness of beggars
until I had reason to fear that but for them I
would be guilty of giving the honest beggar too
little.
2471.
To make the best of a bad day is to make it
a good day.
2472.
Even the best of folk have the coarse occasion-
ally circulating within them ; but what marks them
as the best is that like the sieve they withhold
the coarse and let through only the fine.
DEFINITIONS 389
2473-
Extravagant praise is a sign of power, but
misdirected. Extravagant blame is seldom a
sign of aught but impotence.
2474.
It is easy to know a man from the manner in
which he praises, not so easy to know him from
the manner in which he censures.
2475-
Not he is blind who cannot yet see, but who
can no longer hear.
2476.
Their own blindness men ascribe to Fortune.
2477.
There is a boldness natural to ignorance, there
is a timidity natural to knowledge; there is a
blindness peculiar to strength, there is a sight
peculiar to weakness.
2478.
Nothing discolors blue blood so readily as the
application of biblical scarlet.
2479.
Others' blunders men measure by their results;
their own, by their intentions.
2480.
The blush in the face betokens the purity of
the heart, and alas! also its shame.
.;
248l.
Men are ruined by borrowing, and as rmicii
borrowing ideas as money.
39° APHORISMS
2482.
Both the borrower and the lender are apt to
lose in the transaction. But the lender loses
only his money along with his friend; the borrower
loses also his self-respect.
2483.
The highest bravery is to be a martyr; the
next highest is to confess one's incapacity for
becoming a martyr.
2484.
It is the unseen burdens that are carried,
I was about to say the lightest; but no, they are
really carried the heaviest.
2485.
The only effectual Thou shalt not is Thou canst
not. The only effectual Thou canst is Thou
shalt.
2486.
When a weak-minded person does not wish to
do aught he says ,'T can not do it." The strong-
minded says: "I must not do it." The one lays
the impossibility to the weakness of the flesh
which is real; the other to strength of spirit —
which is not so real.
2487.
The cards are badly shuffled only when we
have a bad hand.
It is the chains that do not rattle that hold
the fastest.
DEFINITIONS 391
2489.
Chance has three suitors: one waits for it,
and is apt to miss it; another takes it, and is
apt to lose it; a third makes it, and generally
wins it.
2490.
Riches may be due to fortune; beauty, to
parents, but character you owe only to yourself.
2491.
To do great things we must indeed learn to do
small things ; but the surest way to unfit yourself
for what is great is to be ever engaged in what is
small.
2492.
A straight line cannot be determined from only
one point. Character may be determined from
only one deed.
2493-
Seldom does one show his true character so
much as when bestowing praise or blame.
2494.
We constantly pray to have our circumstances
changed. But what are we to do with new circum-
stances that are strange, when we know not how
to get on with the old that are familiar?
2495-
The rundown clock deceives as much by its
having been right before as by being wrong now.
2496.
Twice in twenty-four hours even the stopped
clock points aright: once by day, and once by
night. Twice a day even a fool may be deemed
wise: When silent by day, when asleep at night.
392 APHORISMS
2497.
In clouds we must all be. It is only a question
whether in the end we shall find ourselves above
them or below them.
2498.
The common man dislikes evil because of
what it does. The uncommon man hates evil
because of what it is.
2499.
The common man is interested only in what is
on his own level ; the intelligent man is interested
also in what is above his level. Only the kindly
man is interested also in what is below his level.
2500.
The common mind appreciates hardly even
the great things, the great mind appreciates
even the little things.
2501.
Common sense derives its name not from its
own commonness, but from that of the things
it is exercised upon.
2502.
To be communicative is nature; to be ju-
diciously communicative is art.
2503-
The misfortune is not in being born incom-
petent — all are born thus. The misfortune is in
remaining incompetent when we might be other-
wise, in deeming ourselves competent when we
are otherwise.
2504.
The only noble competition is with oneself.
DEFINITIONS 393
2505-
Four things are required of the complete man:
an orderly mind, a steady will, a patient temper,
a loving heart.
2506.
The highest compliment is imitation, and this
can be paid unconsciously ; the lowest is flattery,
and this is paid only consciously.
2507.
Who has too much confidence in himself may
yet succeed, who has too much in others will
surely fail.
2508.
What concerns us and what concerns us not
we do not see alike. The one we behold as the
headlight of a train rushing toward us ; the other
as the end of a train departing from us.
2509.
Why shall I conform to fashion? It was
adopted in my absence.
2510.
It is the dead fish that are carried down the
stream.
2511.
To conquer a matter is as often to lose it as
to win it.
2512.
Conscience is our only part whose health is
proved by its pains.
2 5i3-
Few like the responsibility of their own con-
science.
394 APHORISMS
2514.
Antinomies of mind — only theorists know them.
Antinomies of conscience — happy the practical
soul that has not to know them.
2515-
Man has nothing in himself that is wholly
trustworthy, not even his conscience; that is
only the least untrustworthy.
2516.
Conscience, compass of the soul, is herein like
the compass of the ship in that it too may point
wrong if its magnet be high enough or powerful
enough. And the disturbance is all the more
mischievous when in addition the magnet is
out of sight. There is thus an aberration of
conscience, as there is an aberration of light, of
mind, of what is called the personal equation.
Overuse also of conscience, as in all else, may be-
come abuse, with confusion, morbidness, in its
train. By being allowed more than its due it
becomes, like the swollen arm, only weaker
for its size. Conscience should preside, not
tyrannize; rule not hold despotic sway. A healthy
conscience has regard for other things beside
itself: for age, conditions, atmosphere.
2517.
Conscience is an automatic bell: the more it
is heeded the louder it rings; unheeded it at last
ceases to ring. But with the answer to the bell
at the door, the part of conscience ends. Con-
science tells that some one is at the door, it does
not yet tell as to his admission into the house.
That you must see for yourself. It may be the
DEFINITIONS 395
welcome guest; it may be only the book-agent,
the peddlar.
2518.
It is important to do the right, but as important
to do it right. Now conscience tells to do the
right. It does not always tell how to do it right.
And to do the right wrongly is only less harmful
than to do the wrong rightly.
2519.
Conscience is the best guide we have, but it is
not good enough unless certified of God in His
Book. The individual check is good, but its
final safety is secured only when certified to by
the bank.
2520.
As good taste at times requires that one insist
not on the best of taste, so the right oft requires
that one insist not on the strictest right. None
are so unreasonable as those who always insist
on reasonableness. And none so easily fall into
wrong as those who ever insist on the exact
right. Here, as elsewhere, as in metaphysics,
science, the caution must ever be: "Gentlemen,
above all, not too exact!" . . .
2521.
To go against one's conscience is surely wrong.
To go according to one's conscience is not neces-
sarily right.
2522.
A simple recipe for contentment : to remember
that the years consist of summers and winters;
that the weeks are made up of days and nights;
that the days bring only sunshine and shadow.
396 APHORISMS
Two things will ever be contradicted: what is
reasonable and what is unreasonable.
2524.
Conversation is a constant attempt to discover
and establish harmony between the speakers.
When that is done conversation ends and fellow-
ship begins.
2525-
Folk think that conversation is the great end
of society. It is only its great means. When
the final level between folk is found, conver-
sation becomes needless, and silence between
them becomes equally enjoyable.
2526.
Who wishes to convince himself may begin with
doubting, who wishes to convince others must
end with affirming.
2527.
To be a copy of others may make you better,
to be a copy of yourself surely makes you worse.
2528.
The worst that can be said of one is that he is
a copy of some one else. And yet most folk are
either bad copies of others or still worse originals.
2529.
The worst corruption is that of the best.
2530-
The only legitimate covetousness is that of
another's virtues.
DEFINITIONS 397
2531-
Even the brave man may run from danger,
the coward runs also from duty.
253 2 -
Only who walks into danger can afford always
to run from it.
2533-
Into danger it is best to walk, through danger
it is best to run.
2534.
The critic must have two things: an eminence
to stand on, a flag to stand by.
2535-
Weeds grow of themselves, crops must be hoed.
2536.
The lack of culture is shown by two combi-
nations: open mouth and closed eyes; hot head
and cold heart.
2537-
Culture is valued because of its increased sen-
sitiveness, openness to more pleasures: can now
enjoy Browning's verse, Wagner's music, Im-
pressionist painting, Rodinesque sculpture, Cub-
ists' puzzles. But what about the decreased
sense at the other end, the closedness to other
pleasures? Culture can no longer enjoy the
nursery rhymes, the rag-time strains, playing tag,
and merry-go-round rides You smile,
dear reader? But the whole problem of human
knowledge and happiness is wrapped up in this
simple question.
398 APHORISMS
^538. .
To express our feelings is nature, to understand
the feelings of others is culture.
2539-
To see the most in the world, to get the most
out of the world, to leave behind you the best
of yourself in the world — that is culture.
2540.
The highest culture is attained by learning
first from the living, then from the dead, and
then from both.
2541.
It is the good customer that has to pay for
the bad.
2542.
Even the cypher, worthless at the head, ten-
folds a number when it takes the rear.
2543-
Cyphers can also stand at the head, but only
of fractions.
2S44-
There are two kinds of darkness: the one due
to the absence of light — the darkness of the
ignorant, the low; the one due to the interception
of light — the darkness of the learned, the high.
2545. .
There came a time when the chief characteristic
of the Holy Roman Empire was that it was
neither Holy, nor Roman, nor an Empire. Those
were its darkest days. There comes a time in
the life of every sober soul when he is neither
himself, nor alive, and is thus anything but sober.
Those are its darkest days. . . .
DEFINITIONS 399
2546.
Howe'er retired you live you cannot escape
being a debtor.
2547-
He deceived me — that was his triumph. But
he has also undeceived me — that is my triumph.
2548.
None deceive so successfully as the self-
deceived.
2549-
Nothing so tiring as decisions, nothing so
restful as decision.
2550.
Our good deeds are the feathers which make
us wings.
255i-
The inability to suffer because of the evil
around us marks one who is already degenerate.
The inability to bear the evil around us marks
one about to become degenerate.
2552.
The most delicate web becomes coarse under
the microscope.
2553-
The desire to be known is proper to man;
only it must be after one knows, not before.
2554-
In helplessness one can yet do even his best
work; in hopelessness one can yet do at least
some good work, but in despair one can only do
his worst.
4-00 APHORISMS
2555-
Despondency and enthusiasm express the same
quality, but with opposite algebraic signs in front.
2556.
Despondency is enthusiasm upside down.
2557-
There is no objection to despotism — of the
right sort. Truth is despotic, so is reason, so
is duty.
2558.
"The science of mind has dethroned the
devil!" No, friend, it has only enthroned him
more firmly.
2559-
The diamond is easily changed into coal;
the coal is changed into diamond only at a cost
greater than the diamond — a branch of Chemistry
to be studied with special profit by the — critics . . .
2560.
Who differ from us are easily endured, not so
easily who differ with us.
2561.
The wish to be different from what you are
generally means that you wish to be better.
The wish to be different from where you are
generally means that you wish to be worse.
2562.
Discontented all must be. Only the good are
not content with what they do; the bad are
discontented with what they ought to do.
DEFINITIONS 401
2563.
Discoveries are made as much thro' the micro-
scope as thro' the telescope.
2564.
To be ill with the same disease as some one
else is not indeed health, but it is a kind of help.
2565-
The sight of a monster is remembered longer
than that of a beautiful creature. Dislike has a
longer memory than like.
2566.
I used to lament the much I wished to do but
could not do. I now lament the little I ought
to do but cannot do.
2567.
I used to be anxious to accomplish much good
in the world. I am now content if I am kept
from doing harm.
2568.
All other occupations become easier with
practice. Doing nothing is the only occupation
that grows harder with practice.
2569.
The dollar becomes of final value only when
about to be parted with. Sad type of the value
men set upon most of their blessings.
2570.
Doubt as a stage is taking a bath in the sea.
Remaining a doubter is to be drowned therein.
402 APHORISMS
2571-
The only drawback to a man's good piece of
work is that it draws after it also many a poor
piece of his.
2572.
Few of men's ills are due to their wickedness;
many to their dullness. Unfortunately dullness
ere long makes for wickedness.
2573-
A genius one can hardly be in more than one
thing, a dunce one may easily be in many things.
2574.
Every speck of dust is big with infinity.
2575-
Dust blown to heaven is still dust, a star
fallen to earth ceases to be a star.
2576.
You can do. another's work, you cannot do
another's duty.
2577.
One place is ever safe — that of duty.
2578.
The best instruction we can give others about
their duties is to practice our own.
2579-
The one thing man really needs to do he can
always do — his duty.
2580.
The knowledge of their duty nearly all have,
the strength for doing it, most have; the will
to do it many have. The wisdom to do it, few
have.
DEFINITIONS 403
2581.
Duty should hold us not like the nail, which
has to be clawed by its head ere it can release
what it holds; nor yet like the screw, which has
to turn backwards to loosen its hold. But rather
like the axle, which tho' it securely holds, gives
yet the wheel ample play.
2582.
Who is occupied most with the duties of
others is a meddler, who is occupied most with
the duties to himself is a robber.
2583.
"Eagles make no more noise than pennies !"
Exactly, just because they are gold. Moreover,
eagles are not coined for the noise they make.
2584.
The lesser lights also suffer an eclipse, but it
is only the eclipse of the greater lights that is
watched.
2585.
Who is not economical from choice will soon
be so from necessity.
2586.
Any education is good enough which fosters
pleasure in virtue and abhorrence of vice.
2587.
That is education which teaches whom to
love and what to hate.
2588.
That is education which fits folk for all the
duties it shall be theirs to perform.
404 APHORISMS
2589.
Only that is true education which remembers
that boys will some day be husbands and fathers
and citizens, that girls will some day be wives
and mothers.
2590.
Education is not yet finished until it enables
one to recognize merit with the label off.
2591.
Education has not yet done its best if it has
not widened your ignorance while adding to
your knowledge.
2592.
The education or culture which tries to give
one what is not already his does not transform
him, nor even color him. It paints him over,
oftener it daubs him.
2593-
Education is more to learn how to learn than
to learn. And happy the case indeed where it
does not mean the need to unlearn. . . .
2594.
The child's education is not finished till he has
learned to obey; the man's not till he has learned
to command.
2595-
"To what do you hold, to free grace or to
election?" To both, friend. To free grace while
you are unsaved ; to election, as soon as you are
saved.
2596.
A man is seldom eloquent till his life is part of
his voice.
DEFINITIONS 405
2S97-
Not a little of eloquence consists in speaking
out boldly what others feel strongly, but are
unable to express.
2598.
The best school of oratory is that which teaches
how to say what must be said, how not to say
what need not be said. The one is learned from
necessity without preparation ; the other is learned
from bitter experience, and after long preparation.
2599-
Endurance may become the end of suffering,
and even the beginning of enjoyment.
2600.
Who can bear all things is already fit for
heaven; who can endure all things is not yet
fit even for earth.
2601.
Your enemy thinks he is your enemy — he is
only his own. Whether he shall really also be
yours depends as much on yourself as on him. '
2602.
You can often conciliate an enemy by hating
those he hates; not quite so often by loving
those he loves.
2603.
Enjoyment is the only thing all can overdo,
and hardly any underdo.
2604.
Underdoing enjoyment hardens folk. And over-
doing enjoyment — does it soften folk? No, it
only effeminates them.
406 APHORISMS *
2605.
A sure way of increasing enjoyment is to
decrease expectation.
2606.
All enthusiasm rests on much knowledge and
not a little ignorance.
2607.
We see sparks when aught light falls before
us, when aught dark falls upon us. The enthus-
iast mistakes the one for the other.
2608.
The envious fire with an inverted gun: the
kick goes from them, the shot goes into them.
2609.
Nothing grows so slowly and fades so quickly
as true esteem; like the century plant: grows its
flower only in a hundred years and loses it in
a night.
2610.
A little etymology does chase away large
ghosts.
2611.
Our paraphrastic euphemisms do not change
the metal of the coin; they only obliterate the
inscription.
2612.
Evil to be conquered in the end must be
resisted in the beginning.
2613.
We cannot begin to hate evil without becoming
hateful ourselves, only we must not end therewith
DEFINITIONS 407
2614.
We cannot escape association with evil but
we can imitate the flower: which imparts its
fragrance to the pot, but absorbs none of its
odor.
2615.
To abstain from returning evil for evil is the
only way to make up for our inability to always
return good for good.
2616.
To do evil that good may come is to climb
to heaven by way of hell.
2617.
Even an evil may become a good to us if we
make the best thereof.
2618.
A thing can be done best only once. When
an improvement upon excellency is tried it can-
not make it better, it does make it worse.
2619.
For finding excuses for themselves men use
a searchlight ; for finding excuses for others they
are slow to use even a match.
2620.
Excuses like mortgages are often necessary and
even useful; but like mortgages they are better
off than on.
2621.
Experience, like manna, spoils on our hands
if not used at once.
408 APHORISMS
2622.
Our experience was meant to be a bridge for
others. Most men use it hardly even themselves.
2623.
Their experience men prefer to buy; their
opinions they prefer to borrow.
2624.
It is not experience folk are short of, but the
inability to profit thereby.
2625.
Extremes do not meet ; they only sit back to back.
2626.
The great own their eyes, the small borrow
them.
2627.
Nothing so stubborn as a fact, nothing so
tractable as figures.
2628.
Facts are like worms: cutting them into two
does not destroy them; it leaves two where
before was only one.
2629.
The first failure can always be a blessing, the
second may still be a test, and the third is already
a warning. The fourth is the sure proof.
2630.
There is a failure that is only short of success,
there is a success that is actual failure.
2631.
One can still be a success without having suc-
ceeded. One can still be a failure without having
failed.
DEFINITIONS 409
2632.
The success to which others have not contrib-
uted is not yet final success. The failure to which
others have contributed is not yet final failure.
2633.
A man's life may be a success long before he
dies, it is not a failure until he dies.
2634.
Failure is not yet failure if it teach us these
two things: If our endeavor has been faithful
it may be success in God's sight. And even if
it be failure also in His sight He yet giveth time
to try again; and this lesson of perseverance
once learned is not failure.
2635.
The failures of the eminent may be as much an
inspiration as their successes.
2636.
Few deserve fame who have it not, fewer still
deserve all the fame they have.
2637.
Familiarity with the mean at last contents
men therewith. Familiarity with the noble only
makes them indifferent thereto.
2638.
Familiarity with the noble does not reconcile
the ignoble therewith.
2639.
The concealing of one fault is apt to result
only in the revealing of others.
410 APHORISMS
2640.
It is idle to remember your faults against
yourself; highly profitable that you remember
them for others.
2641.
Not the faults with which folk are born should
count against them, but those that are borne
along by them.
2642.
All are reconciled to the end of the plot. It is
the uncertainty of the next chapter that makes
fear in life.
2643.
To find much you have to reject much as well
as to seek much.
2644.
The secret of finding is as much in determining
the depth to which one is willing to dig as in
knowing the depth at which the treasure is
. buried.
2645.
Who wishes to start the fire must not mind
the smoke.
2646.
The surest way to set on fire what is not
intended is to strike into the coals.
2647.
Who blows into the fire must expect sparks
in his face.
2648.
Join fire to iron and both are beaten.
DEFINITIONS 411
2649.
Flattery is like mud in that it sticks; but
should, unlike mud, be brushed off before it is
dry.
2650.
It is the mark of flattery that it only pleases ;
of praise, that it also helps.
2651.
Has he really made a fortune? Not until he
has learned to enjoy it.
2652.
It may be true that men are freed by making
a fortune, it is certain they are enslaved by
seeking it.
2653-
Fortunes are like promises: easier made than
kept.
2654.
The only real advantage of a large fortune is
that it enables one to do just what he likes —
the very thing he should not do.
2655-
Our good fortune is never as great as others
deem it. Our bad fortune is never as great as
we deem it.
2656.
The dog runs after those that run from him;
fortune is apt to run from those who run after it.
2657.
The more one is, the greater his freedom; the
more one has, the greater his bondage.
27
412 APHORISMS
2658.
Folk are ever looking for fresh points of view.
Return, friends, to the old paths, they will prove
fresh enough.
2659.
Of the future man knows least, about the future
man worries most.
2660.
By fixing all our thoughts on the present we
degrade the future as well as the present.
2661.
By two things is man's happiness promoted:
by his knowledge of the future, by his ignorance
of .the future.
2662.
Glasses may help sight, but nearly always at
the expense of light.
2663.
Most folk wear their glasses all the time. I
prefer to wear mine only at inspections.
2664.
Men plead for patience with the weaknesses of
others — they mean their own.
2665.
Who carries only gold with him will suffer from
the embarrassment of not having ready change.
2666.
Gold sinks, smoke rises.
2667.
Gold sunk into the sea is still gold: smoke rising
to heaven is still smoke
DEFINITIONS 413
2668.
It is well to remember that not all is gold that
glitters; but better still to remember that there
is much gold that does not glitter.
2669.
An ignoble error: that a load of gold is lighter
than one of lead.
2670.
The silver dollar and the gold are of the same
value, but the gold is easier lost . . .
2671.
Flies are caught by a sweet, gold is proved by
an acid.
2672.
That brass resounds more than gold may not
be true of the metals, but it is certainly true
elsewhere.
2673.
The purer the gold, the softer it is.
2674.
A nail of gold holds no better than iron.
2675.
Some goodness may be in us all, but it is the
goodness of the last bit of the pencil; has lead
enough if only it could be handled.
2676.
Others' goodness you may behold with joy;
your own, only with suspicion.
2677.
When others' goodness differs from ours, we
are apt to suspect theirs.
414 APHORISMS
2678.
Folk learn to like poisons if they be sweet, and
anon even if they are bitter.
2679.
A good cause seldom fails thro' the in judicious-
ness of its enemies. Oftener thro' the judiciousness
of its friends.
2680.
However good a man, from the moment he
deems himself good, he is not so good.
2681.
Do not believe the good in life is given you
solely for your own sake. It is sent you first
as a companion, to be entertained ere long as
a mere visitor, and sent away at last as a
messenger.
2682.
It is not possible to attain to a goodness that
satisfies God. It is equally impossible to attain
to a goodness that satisfies man. But God does
not lay up this impossibility against us, man does.
2683.
Goodness is to knowledge what the telescope
is to the eye: it increases its range, but is no
substitute for it.
2684.
The grain falls, the chaff rises.
2685.
To expect gratitude is to forfeit it.
DEFINITIONS 415
2686.
When I hear folk charge one another with
ingratitude, or profuse with thanks for trifles,
I say with the Eastern sage, Do good, and throw
it into the sea. The fish know it not, but God does.
2687.
To feel gratitude without showing it is only
better than to show gratitude without feeling it.
2688.
Gratitude is the only virtue prized as the bank
note is prized: without regard to the specie
behind it.
2689.
Nature teaches the great soul to shrink from
being seen; experience teaches it to shrink from
seeing.
2690.
He is great who remains undisturbed when
men take note of him, but greater he who remains
undisturbed even when men take note of him.
2691.
To do great things, we must indeed learn to do
small things; but the surest way to unfit yourself
for what is great is to be ever engaged in what
is small.
2692.
The great act in the present with reference to
the future ; the small wish for the future with
reference to the present.
2693.
The small man is bold after success; the great
man even after failure.
41 6 APHORISMS
2694.
However small the number it can still be
halved; however great the man he can still be
doubled.
2695.
Others may see your greatness, but it consists
in seeing your littleness.
2696.
Greatness may be attained by climbing, it is
retained by descending.
2697.
Wait for great occasions? My friend, you will
then do no less than what you are doing on
little occasions if you are an honest soul; and no
more, if you are a dishonest soul.
2698.
A great life is to its contemporaries an Aeolian
harp: they hear hardly even the fine sounds;
posterity perceives also the melody.
2699..
Habit is like wine: its strength grows with age.
2700.
Habit makes machines of us. It is for us to
put soul into them.
2701.
Half of what we hear is seldom so. The other
half is seldom exactly so.
2702.
"I think as my hammer thinks" he said when
he became a great blacksmith. "I think as my
anvil thinks," he added when he became a great
man.
DEFINITIONS 417
2703.
The hardest thing to learn is that we can do
nothing. The next hardest is after learning it
to — remember it.
2704.
Hay you can make only when there is no
storm. Your housecleaning you must do, and
often best, during the storm.
2705.
It is a mark of healthy nature when experience
removes its prejudices but restores its precon-
ceptions.
2706.
The only rational way to care for your health
is to treat it as not your own.
2707.
Health thinks of the future, disease worries
over it.
2708.
Good hearing consists not so much in hearing
all sounds as in hearing all the necessary sounds.
2709.
"Help yourself!" an excellent motto for you,
but a problematic preachment to others.
2710.
I am dissuaded from helping others because
forsooth I have duties to myself. Well, I have
no duties to myself that can prevent me from
helping others.
41 8 APHORISMS
2711.
It is easy to live when hope and reward beckons
on ; but to give up even the last hope yet lingering
in the soul, to take up life again when nothing
beckons; darkness ahead, regret behind, pain all
over; to live, to bear, to endure, to praise God
therefor — this is bravery, this is heroism.
2712.
Hesitation is the sign as much of the abundance
of ideas, as of their scarcity.
2713-
There is a hesitation of speech more eloquent
than many a passionate outburst.
2714.
Hesitation may be a sign that one sees too
much. Precipitation is a sign that one sees too
little.
2715-
Many are able to fill a high place, few are
worthy to hold it.
2716.
The great historian is he who distinguishes
between what is done and what happens.
2717.
History like the eclipses in the heavens, is
sure to repeat itself; and, like the eclipses, hardly
ever at the same time and place.
2718.
The mouse is the thief, the hole is the inciter
to the theft.
DEFINITIONS 419
2719.
To try to hold more with hands already full
is to lose all.
2720.
A great tragedy: to be at home only when
away from home.
2721.
Both the honest man and the rogue distrust
each other. But the honest man distrusts the
rogue because he knows him to be a rogue; the
rogue distrusts the honest man because he thinks
him a fool.
2722.
The Italians say: 'Tor an honest man half his
wits are enough; the whole is too little for a
knave." This may be true in Italy. In America
the honest man needs the whole of his and
much besides.
2723.
Honesty is tested as much by our pleasures
as by our business.
2724.
Honesty keeps one seemingly on a long walk,
but it is the shortest in the long run.
2725.
Honesty could hitherto be likened only to a
diamond, which adorns the wearer; it can now
be likened to radium which makes even jewels
more beautiful.
2726.
Faith can be defined, love can be defined, hope,
duty, can be defined. Honor alone cannot be
defined; just as an atmosphere cannot be defined.
Honor is an atmosphere.
420 APHORISMS
2727.
To pursue honors is only to drive honor from
you.
2728.
Man is never above himself, often beneath
himself.
2729.
There is no humility natural to pride, there
may be a pride natural even to humility.
2730.
Men prize humility more than devoutness in
another. Devoutness bows before God. Hu-
mility, bows also before men.
2731.
True humility consists in thinking ourselves
inferior not so much to others as to our best selves.
2732.
A great comfort: the sense of humor; a great
snare: the sense of the ridiculous.
2733-
To the intelligent few, life would be intolerable
but for a saving sense of humor. To the unin-
telligent many, life is tolerable just because they
lack this saving sense of humor.
2734.
Ice rises as well as steam.
2735-
It needs but little courage to confess one's
ignorance, it needs much knowledge to know it.
DEFINITIONS 4 21
2736.
Of all imitations the worst is that of oneself.
2737-
It is a sign of immaturity when only few
interest you; and alas! also of — maturity . . .
2738.
The immodesty of mind is more fatal than
that of the body: it is not so repulsive . . .
2739-
What folk do not wish they readily prove to
be impossible.
2740.
Impulse is nature, but unbridled it is bad
nature.
2741.
I have observed that when the washline is
hung out conspicuously it is like to be the only
sign of life about the house. It is the mark of
indelicate folk that their existence is made known
chiefly from the washline.
2742.
Injuries are best never mentioned, often for-
got, always forgiven.
2743-
Folk are apt to be indifferent to injustice unless
it is against themselves.
2744.
Who can bear injustice is unfit for this life;
who cannot, is unfit for the next.
42 2 APHORISMS
2745-
To see things as they are is surely running the
risk of becoming insane. To insist upon having
all things as they should be is to be already
insane.
2746.
The most important acts of their lives folk at
times do without exactly knowing why. They
are thus clearly inspired. It is only a question
whether from above or from beneath.
2747.
One's integrity may stand in the way of success
in small matters. One's lack of integrity will
stand in the way of success in great matters.
2748.
Two men are not to be fully trusted: who
knows not how to obey, who knows not how to
command.
2749.
Two men indulge in introspection: the very
healthy and the very sick; but with this differ-
ence: the healthy can afford it, the sick cannot.
2750.
Strike indeed the iron while it is hot; better
still, strike the iron until it is hot.
275i-
It is the hot iron that is beaten, not the cold.
2752.
The worst about a jest is that after all it is
not a jest . . .
DEFINITIONS 423
2753-
Things are best judged the nearer we approach
them; men, the further we recede from them.
2754.
In their absence we are apt to judge folk
more by our reason when it is well with us; in
their presence, more by our feelings, when it is
ill with them.
2755-
The road to justice leads as often through
injustice as out of it.
2756.
It is the glory of a king that the gems in his
crown are held to be genuine even when seen
from afar.
2757.
The great king is he who rules himself, and
only reigns over others.
2758.
A king's coffin need be no larger than a beggar's.
2759-
' 'That dull knife— just good for nothing!"
Tut, tut; for cutting paper it is even better than
a sharp one.
2760.
I used to prize the knots in the wood as its
strongest parts, until I learned that they are
easiest knocked out of their place.
2761.
It needs much knowledge to doubt intelli-
gently, and more to believe intelligently.
424 APHORISMS
2762.
The more one truly knows, to the fewer he
can speak; the more one truly has, to the fewer
he can give.
2763.
I used to have much faith in the indiscriminate
spread of knowledge until I learned that the
utility of candles ends at the powder magazine.
2764.
Every premature knowledge is some embryonic
sorrow. Every useless knowledge is some em-
bryonic vice.
2765.
There is no such thing as waste in possessing
knowledge. There is far too much waste in
the acquiring thereof.
2766.
Who knows everything about everything knows
as yet nothing about anything. Only who knows
everything of something is ready to know some-
thing of everything.
2767.
To know a thing you must see it as a part,
to understand it you must see it as a whole.
2768.
True knowledge consists of two halves: the
knowledge that we know, the knowledge that we
do not know.
2769.
What counts against a man is not so much
what he is not as what he does not try to be.
DEFINITIONS 425
2770.
Gross ignorance may keep one poor, refined
knowledge is apt to make him poor.
2771.
The more we know the more things we can
believe, the fewer folk we can trust.
2772.
The less men know the harder they find it
to believe the natural. The more men know,
the easier they believe the supernatural.
2773-
Who sit under the tree of life are in danger of
underestimating the tree of Knowledge. Who
sit under the Tree of Knowledge are apt to
mistake it for the Tree of Life.
2774.
There is danger in living below what one knows,
there is danger in living above what one knows;
but the greatest danger is in living only in what
one knows.
2775-
Who knows two languages is not yet thereby
twice a man, but who knows only one is not yet
a whole man.
2776.
Language and music are not found in nature.
Language is what connects man at present with
heaven. Music, is it the reminiscence of man's
past tie with heaven?
426 APHORISMS
2777.
The language of a people is the history of its
past; the language of the child is the history of
its present ; the language of the man is the history
of his future.
2778.
Law is always a necessity, freedom is seldom
more than a luxury.
2779
Laws should be upheld because of their in-
trinsic justice. And in a plight indeed is that
community which upholds bad laws solely be-
cause of the injustice that may result from
unmaking them.
2780.
The Law is the light which only makes the
darkness darker; grace is the light which enables
us to walk therein.
2781.
There are two kinds of law : law and lawlessness
under the guise of law; the former is everywhere
an expression of God and must be obeyed; the
latter is Satan's counterfeit, and is often best
disobeyed.
2782.
' 'John Jones, M. D." when giving account of
oneself, and "Dr. John Jones" when addressed
by others' — there is wisdom in this bit of con-
ventionality. By yourself your learning is best
placed behind you. Others can afford to see it
in front of you.
2783.
Who has to learn his lesson twice hardly
learns it even once.
DEFINITIONS 427
2784.
The genius learns with very little labor; the
dullard, only with very much. The rest .who are
neither geniuses nor dullards, — do they ever
really learn anything?
2785.
Leisure is the mother of nearly all that is
thoroughly good, and the father of much that is
thoroughly bad.
2786.
Leisure is the mother of all art; spontaneity, of
all grace ; sincerity of all beauty.
2787.
Mature minds prefer to learn what they do
not know. Immature minds prefer to learn
mostly about what they already know.
2;
Men measure by their admiration, they are
measured by their censure.
2789.
To keep the medium in all things is the true
mark of what is not mediocre.
2790.
Two men need long memories: the borrower
and the liar.
2791.
To remember a good turn is to deserve it;
to remember an ill turn is to deserve it still more.
2792.
The forgetting of what we should remember
is only a misfortune; the forgetting that we are
forgetful — this is the calamity.
428 APHORISMS
2793.
What can be remembered only with an effort
is seldom worth remembering. "I always re-
member the man that kicked me last" was
Samuel Johnson's efficient receipt for a good
memory.
2794.
Trouble not thyself about method : if thou hast
aught worthy within thee it will find its own
method outward.
2795-
Two minds are quickly made up: the very
great, the very small.
2796.
Matter out of place is rightly called dirt,
Mind out of place — a more serious affair — is
only called special learning.
2797.
The going thro' the mire is not always our
responsibility, the letting the mire stick to our
clothes is.
When the mirror reflects a distorted likeness,
the distortion is false, is the mirror's. When
it reflects a beautiful likeness, the beauty is real.
2799.
We may learn even from the miser : who values
his gold not for what it can bring, but for itself.
2800.
Catching the ball only to throw it again — to
see no sport therein — this is the miser's fatal
error.
DEFINITIONS 429
2801.
Men seldom misrepresent themselves so much
as when calling things by their right names.
2802.
For two things folk need no training: for mis-
representing others to themselves; or misrepre-
senting themselves to others.
2803.
To report one's words without his tone and
mien, — is it really to report them?
2804.
To confess boldly mistakes that can be cor-
rected is bravery. To stand bravely by mistakes
that cannot be corrected is heroism.
2805.
To be misunderstood is easier in your own
tongue than in a foreign one.
2806.
To be misunderstood is only a sorrow, to mis-
understand is a misfortune.
2807.
Judicious saving keeps money : judicious spend-
ing may make it.
2808.
Who believes that money will do all, will soon
do all for money.
2809.
Who needs only money to place him on his
feet will not remain long standing without it.
is to
430 APHORISMS
281O.
The surest way to reveal your weakness i
hide your motives.
2811.
The highest music is within the reach of all,
since every one can make his life a great liturgy.
2812.
Music is like wine: the longer it has stood in
our memories the better it tastes.
2813.
Of mystery there is as much in the known as
in the unknown.
2814.
To find a good place for the nail in the wall
you must hammer also at where you do not
want it.
2815.
I am yet to meet the broad-minded soul whose
view extends to the horizon of all the four points
of compass of the known, with the honest con-
fession that at any moment a new sun may arise
from the vast unknown beyond that shall at
once pale into darkness all that he now so clearly
sees. All the rest that has not this breadth is
narrow-mindedness : which even unwittingly tends
to wickedness, so that with the best intentions a
narrow minded man cannot be a good man.
2816.
Wind and wave are ever on the side of the ablest
navigator, said Gibbon, and he said what is
not true. What makes the ablest navigator is
that he is ever on the side of wind and wave.
DEFINITIONS 43 1
2817.
Needs are apt to awake men; conpanions to
make men; occupations, to break men.
2818.
The possession of what we need is comparatively
inexpensive. It is the possession of what others
think we need that proves expensive.
2819.
The nightingale feeds on the glow worm; but
it is not the glow worm that makes it sing, it
does not even make it glow.
2820.
For meeting the noble a journey is needful:
for meeting the mean a walk is enough.
2821.
That a note pitched too high is equally in-
audible with one pitched too low is true only
in Physics. In morals only the note pitched too
high is inaudible ; the one pitched too low reaches
but too speedily many an ear.
2822.
Who expects others to obey him should be
most like God. He is usually least.
2823.
To look at objects too long is to turn them
into objections.
2824.
In obstacles may yet be gain: throw the ball
into the field, and it leaves thee. Cast it against
the wall — back it comes to thee.
432 APHORISMS
2825.^
Our obstacles are put up to enable us either to
conquer them or to acknowledge our defeat by
them. And this latter may be a victory inferior
only to the former.
2826.
The problem of occupation is settled when we
know how to use our worktime and not to abuse
our leisure.
2827.
The occupation you choose for your hand
decides also the thoughts of your head, and oft
alas! also the feelings of your heart.
2828.
I prefer the old clocks about the house to the
new, if only for the reason that I have to wind
them daily, have thus oft to do to them. They
thus become in solitude a sort of companion.
Dear old maid neighbor of mine! Oft I have
looked askance at thee. I do so no more, I now
understand why you look so forward to the
bath you are to give to your poodle dog.
2829.
The opening of the eye is of no use unless it
bring about first an opening of the heart, then
an opening of the hand and lastly an opening
of the mouth? No, but a — shutting thereof.
2830.
Folk ask your opinion about others — they are
trying to form their opinion of you.
DEFINITIONS 433
2831.
Folk either know you or they know you not
If they know you, their opinion of you is just
and should not disturb you. If they know you
not, their opinion of you is unjust and shall it
disturb you?
2832.
All have opinions, few can give the grounds
for them.
2833-
The opinions of most folk are borrowed; and
the tenacity with which they are held is generally
inversely to the amount of ownership had in them.
2834.
The opinions of most men are mortgaged :
with serious objection to having the mortgage
recorded.
2835.
Two men are indifferent to the opinion of their
fellow men: Who is below them, who is above
them.
2836.
The opinion of others about you is only their
affair. Your affair is to see that it affect not your
opinion of them.
2837.
Who neglects opportunities is neglected by
them.
2838.
The surest way to create new opportunities is
to utilize the old.
2839.
From others to myself I ask only justice, but
others from me have a right to expect mercy.
434 APHORISMS
2840.
Who is too particular about the seasoning is
not yet hungry enough.
2841.
Passion is itself only heat. Unfortunately it
oftener scorches than warms.
2842.
Our passions are our only enemies we cannot
change into friends by indulging them.
2843.
Passion persuades, and as often the speaker
as the hearer.
2844.
Passion may sometime enlarge the small soul,
it always belittles the large soul.
2845.
The soul's health is manifested more in free-
dom from passion than in victorious struggle
therewith. And the wisdom of heaven shapes
men's lives so that they do not properly live
unless they have passions, but are not content
until they conquer them. God thus gives folk
plenty to do, and what most folk need is — plenty
to do.
2846.
Every passion carries its check. Many have
the passion with the check gone; not a few carry
the check with the passion already departed, or
not yet arrived.
2847.
Two things men ever find easily: the duty of
others, the excuse for not doing their own.
DEFINITIONS 435
2848.
Men plead for patience with the weaknesses
of others, they mean their own.
2849.
Patience has a bitter bark, but sweet fruit.
2850.
Two frames of mind lead to true peace: that
which hopeth for all things, that which hopeth
for nothing.
2851.
To make peace after the quarrel surely needs
two; to keep it before the quarrel may need
only one.
2852.
To be at peace with ourselves we must first
war much with ourselves, and not a little with
others, and then with neither.
2853.
Shells are found on the beach; for pearls one
must dive.
2854.
The folly of casting pearls before swine is
equalled only by that of trying to persuade them
that the mire they so love is just filth.
2855.
The pedant carries always his knowledge
with him. The scholar is content to keep it
where it can be easily got at.
2856.
With the cyclopedia at hand I would as soon
think of carrying a multitude of diverse facts
436 APHORISMS
in my mind as to load myself with the whole ox
when the jar of beef tea can be put into the satchel.
2857.
It is the pedestal that makes the statue im-
posing.
2858.
Perfect work requires not so much the perfect
man as the whole man.
2859.
There was insight in making the most rounded
out figure a mere zero. The complete man will
not be the rounded out man with the straight
line touching him only at one point; but the
square man: with four sharp corners to him
against the demons from the four corners of the
earth.
2860.
The possession of the sense of perfection is apt
to be a hindrance to perfection in the greater men.
Its absence is a sure hindrance to perfection in
the smaller men.
2861.
The perfect man needs all three: vinegar, salt,
sugar. But of vinegar a drop is more than e nough ;
of salt a pinch suffices; of sugar he can never
have too much.
2862.
The question whether there is perfection for
man here is an academic one. What is certain is
that there is such a thing as daily growing less
imperfect.
2863.
The two great causes of wrong doing : the desire
to please self, the desire to please others. Two
DEFINITIONS 437
great motives of right doing: the desire to please
One other, to satisfy oneself.
2864.
The difference between innocent and guilty
pleasures is that the latter cost more than they
are worth.
2865.
To seek pleasure and profit at others' expense
is boorish. To be ever seeking to bestow pleasure
and profit at our expense is indeed fine, but just
a little superfine. But to bestow pleasure and
profit upon others, we finding therein our own
at the same time — this is indeed the normal,
hence the true way.
2866.
"The poker has no sensation!" — But that is
precisely why I can stir the fire therewith !
2867.
I do not object to polish; only it must not
make my walk slippery; all the more so when
the polish is to be on my shoes rather than on
the floor.
2868.
Politeness is to the heart what the shell is to
the nut, and covers as often a worm as sound
meat.
I dislike politeness which is only a mask for
courtesy. But I flee thereto in the one case where
courtesy is impossible. When the fool is upon me
and I cannot escape him, I hold thereto as a kind
of distance stick between us: he holds its one
end, I the other. And like two men walking each
438 APHORISMS
on a rail of the track, we each hold to his own
rail; ever opposite each other but never nearer
to one another.
2870.
Men ever clamor for more power. Step off the
insulator, friends, and power will soon enough go
through you.
2871.
The secret of power is to draw from the depths,
but not quite to the surface.
2872.
Much of men's praise of others is only an in-
direct way of sounding their own.
2873.
True praise cannot be given, it must be won.
2874.
To be praised by all may be more satisfactory
than to be condemned by all, but only in the
short run. In the long run it is found to be
otherwise.
2875.
Prejudice is a sign of life, partiality of death.
2876.
Pride dislikes pity; but only the name, not the
thing.
2877.
Pride is that refinement of selfishness which
sacrifices even self for selfishness' sake. Selfish-
ness would have a debt unpaid. Pride is rest-
less until it is paid.
DEFINITIONS 439
2878.
The art of printing has widened intelligence,
but has not deepened it.
2879.
In prison we all are : only some are the keepers,
others the prisoners. A few chosen ones are out
either on leave or on parole.
2880.
Probity and skill do not always go together,
but probity is already a kind of skill.
2881.
Who procrastinates thinks he gains time, he is
only losing it.
2882.
Are you progressing ? Not till you have learned
to dispense to-day with what you needed yes-
terday.
2883.
Progress is measured as much by what we part
with as by what we acquire.
True progress consists not in increasing our
needs, but in reducing our wants.
Men are apt to be less provoked by seeing
others act differently from themselves than by
hearing them think differently.
21
To the pure all things are pure, and alas! also
to the impure.
44-0 APHORISMS
2887.
Others may see your greatness, but it consists
in your seeing your littleness.
2888.
The purse is best tied in four ways: toward
yourself — with a cord; toward your neighbor —
with a string; toward your friend — with a hair;
toward your enemy — with a spider's web.
The first blow only invites the quarrel, it is
the second that makes it.
2890.
The questions man is called upon to answer
are those put to him, not those put by himself.
2891.
Do you ask who recommends him? Then you
are an echo.^ Do you ask what recommends him?
Then you are a voice.
2892.
The fear of losing what we have is more power-
ful than the hope of gaining what we have not.
And herein it is that the reformer is at a disad-
vantage before his antagonists.
2893.
The tragedy of all reformers is that in cleaning
the stables they have to leave the oxen inside
2894.
The best remedy against annoyance from small
things is to battle with great.
DEFINITIONS 441
2895.
Drastic remedies are apt at first to make the
disease appear worse. The weak look to the first
consequence; the strong, to the second.
Repentance is doubling one's track upon one-
self, but not for the sake of deceiving.
% 2897.
Two things are easy : to gain notoriety, to lose
a reputation.
2898.
Fame folk seldom gain wholly through their
merit. Reputation men seldom lose except
through their demerit.
2899.
The common man is content with a horizontal
reputation; the uncommon man, with a vertical
one.
2900.
A great fraud : to extract all the good and pass
it off as a sample of the rest. Most reputations
are frauds of this sort.
2901.
Men's lives give weight to their words, their
reputation adds wings.
2902.
Reputation must be gained by many deeds, it
can be lost by only one.
2903.
Most reputations are only notorieties with
some little incense about them.
442 APHORISMS
2904.
Resignation, the great remedy of Goethe and
Carlyle, taught through so many chapters, for
so many years — get tired enough, friends, and you
will soon be resigned . . .
2905.
The great virtue of Renunciation praised so
much — what is it but the restatement of the fact
that folk ever have strength enough to endure
the ills of others ? The great prophets of Renun-
ciation, Goethe and his herein disciple Carlyle,
renounced only in ink, not in blood. When it
came to the real renouncing, in life not in books,
Goethe could not rest until the cup of Unresigna-
tion had been drained to the dregs; and Carlyle
remained a peacelessness for some two score
years of his clamorous preachments on Resigna-
tion to the end of his joyless days . . .
2906.
I used to think Renunciation was aught to
give up, to let go. I now find it to be only aught
to accept, to hold to. Accept thy lot, whate'er it
be. Hold, and hold to God's will for thee, rather
than to thy will for Him . . .
2907.
Who deliberately starts out to win the respect
of his fellows is on the way of losing his own.
2908.
To expect more respect than one deserves is to
forfeit what respect one does deserve.
DEFINITIONS 443
2909.
One need not always be worthy of respect, one
should always be capable thereof.
2910.
The best reward of an excellent piece of work
is the satisfaction of having done it, even if it
remain its only reward.
2911.
Intercourse with the rich in purse does not
make you richer. Intercourse with the poor in
spirit may not make you richer, but it will not
leave you poorer.
2912.
Men are seldom so entertaining before men
and so abominable before God as when ridiculing
others.
2913.
Right means straight. All bending of the
measuring rod shortens the length it measures.
And it is thus that wrong cheats.
2914.
Where two persons on opposite sides are equally
able and sincere, it is certain that both cannot
be right. It is not so certain that either is right.
2615.
To take our rights by storm before men is to
forfeit them before God.
2916.
Men are seldom so near endangering the right
as when insisting upon their rights.
29
444 APHORISMS
2917.
You cannot solder right and wrong — a truth
forgotten in public life, seldom remembered in
private life, recognized at times in the closet, its
neglect at last atoned for from the housetops.
2918.
That one is never right in the opinion of others
may yet be a hopeful sign. That one is never
wrong in his own is the hopeless sign.
2919.
We are only right when we disapprove wrong
in others. We become righteous when we con-
demn it in ourselves.
2920.
Keeping to the right will not always save you
from being run into, but it will save you from the
reproach of having been run into.
2921.
The best praise of the righteous is their censure
by the wicked. .
2922.
, Ripe fruit must not remain long unpicked.
2923.
To rise is easy. It is only a question whether
to the clouds or through them.
2924.
However great the river, its beginning is ob-
scure. However small, its end is clear.
2925.
Who robs me of what is mine may make me
richer thereby, himself he only makes poorer.
DEFINITIONS 445
2926.
The value of rules lies not so much in their
power to lead us to right action as in their di-
recting our attention to right action.
2927.
It is as easy to lay down rules, as it is difficult
to keep them.
2928.
The sand resists the shell where the rock yields.
2929.
The safety of the spire is not in the thinness of
the top, but in the solidity of the bottom.
2930.
By judicious saving men keep money, only by
judicious spending do they save it.
2931.
Seamanship may avail much in the storm; it
avails but little in the calm.
2932.
Many things we fail to see because they are so
constantly in our sight.
2933-
To expect gratitude is to forfeit it.
2934.
Who is unconsciously selfish is not so dangerous
as he who is consciously selfish: the former be-
trays himself; the latter conceals himself.
2935-
Selfishness surely makes folk stupid,
and
stupidity as surely makes folk selfish.
The
446 APHORISMS
philosopher therefore asks : Which first, stupidity
or selfishness? As usual, philosopher dear, your
question is an academic one. Neither is first,
since they are both one and the same. Only
selfishness is stupidity of heart, stupidity is
selfishness of head . . .
2936.
Nothing so keen as selfishness, nothing so dull.
2937-
The highest courage is to dare to appear what
you are. The highest selfishness, always to show
that courage.
2938.
There is a time for even selfishness. When iti
protects your growth: for only the full-grown
can bear the ripest fruit of unselfishness.
2939-
The phrenologists have hit it right in at least
one thing: they place the organ of self-love in
the back of the head.
2940.
Self-love is an excellent critic, but only of
others, not of oneself.
2941.
Self-love makes men keen about others, but
keeps them blind about themselves.
2942.
Who has little sense himself displays his lackj
nowhere so much as in the suspicion that others
also have no more.
DEFINITIONS 447
2Q43-
To keep many servants is only to be the in-
voluntary servant of many.
2944.
The highest service has its joys as well as its
sorrows. But what makes it highest is that it
looks neither to the one nor away from the other,
though it may see both.
2945-
Shadows indicate the presence of light as well
as its absence.
2946.
No shadows to-day? Then there is no sunshine.
2947.
The loftier the mount, the longer its shadow,
and deeper.
2948.
To leave the shadow behind you need only
turn to the sun.
2949.
The only way to escape your shadow is to get
out of the sun.
2950.
A man's shadow does not always disappear
with himself.
2951.
The shallow see aught ridiculous in everything ;
the profound in hardly anything.
2952.
Both the profound and the shallow merely
scratch the surface. But the shallow leave the
44§ APHORISMS
furrows as they find them; the profound cover
them with layers of their own.
2953-
Into sin men may be led by others ; to holiness
they must go themselves.
29S4-
Trust may not always call out sincerity, but
distrust nearly always calls out insincerity.
2955-
There is a sort of sincerity that objects even
to the sugared coat of the pill. But to this they
hold only in the sickness of others; the objection
is apt to vanish in case of their own sickness . . .
2956.
However mistaken, he is at least sincere ! But
so is the mosquito, the wolf, the rattlesnake.
2957-
Nothing so convincing as sincerity, and nothing
so deceptive.
2958.
There are certain marks of sincerity which
like the signs of masonry are recognized only by
the initiated, the great brotherhood of the sincere.
2959-
The insincere betray themselves by nothing
so much as by asking concerning one they do
not understand whether he is sincere.
2960.
Two things we may always believe to be sincere :
praise from our enemies, blame from our friends.
DEFINITIONS 449
2961.
Sincere we must be with all; confiding hardly
to any.
2962.
The notes you may pick up in the crowd.
To learn to sing you must be alone.
2963.
The slanderer works with truth for a handle,
with falsehood for a blade.
2964.
The slanderer puts the butter on the table,
the listener spreads it on the bread.
2965.
The slanderer only throws dust in the air,
but to find it ere long all over himself.
2966.
Great slowness to cast off what has once been
its is a high virtue in the heart. Even little such
slowness is a dangerous vice in the head.
2967.
The smoker's true drawing room is his cigar;
the drinker's, the bar.
2968.
Smooth surfaces are hard to glue together.
2969.
Sober we must nearly always be; sombre,
hardly ever.
2970.
The best reply to inopportune wit is sobriety;
to inopportune sombreness, wit.
43° APHORISMS
2971.
Sobriety, to be truly divine, must be cheerful.
Mirth, to be truly human, must be sober.
2972.
The "Spirit of the Age," whatever it is, is
always wrong, and a man of spirit is given spirit
expressly for resisting it.
2973-
It is on the whitest cloth that the spot is most
noticeable.
2974.
The advice to hitch your wagon to a star is
old; not so old the caution not to hitch your
star to a wagon, but equally needful.
2975-
The stars that fall are only those out of their
course.
2976.
Who seeks for only flowers may be content
to be looking down. Who seeks for stars must
be looking up.
2977.
In storms a feather flies as high as the eagle,
and the oak is uprooted sooner than the vine it
supports.
2978.
The deep stream is not heard until opposed
by some obstacle.
2979.
Who trusts his own strength is but little
stronger than he who fears his weakness.
DEFINITIONS 451
2980.
Self -distrust is already a kind of strength; self-
reliance is already a kind of weakness.
2981.
Who fears his weakness may be weaker for a
time than he who trusts his strength. He is
sure to be stronger in the end.
2982.
The strength to uproot weeds is had by
nearly all, but the great need is to distinguish
them from the crops, flowers.
2983.
It needs strength to undertake work when
rested, and it needs strength to abstain from
work when tired.
2984.
To trust one's strength adds much thereto,
but not so much as to be trustful in weakness.
2985.
Is it weakness alone that needs support?
Strength needs it more . . .
2986.
He is so strong, he is always so cheerful.
Well, mayhap God knows that were a single
sorrow to hang upon one of his limbs, it would
break clean off.
2987.
The strong can afford to be weak at times,
his weakness may easily become tenderness.
The weak can ill afford a certain strength — it
may easily become obstinacy.
452 APHORISMS
2988.
All love justice, few love the just.
2(
The sublimity of the mountain is not in the
mountain but in us.
2990.
Futile attempt: to extemporise success.
2991.
Great he who succeeds, greater he who can
dispense with success.
2992.
Success is full of promise till we — get it.
2993-
Success is only facilitated by talent, it is
conditioned by temperament, and assured only
by character.
2994.
Success men ascribe to themselves; failure, to
fortune.
2995-
The sun is visible for some time before and
after rising. We cannot like the sun be of service
before we are born, we can be of inspiration
after we die.
2996.
The sun sets the example of imparting painted
glory to the very clouds that would fain obscure it.
2997.
Let us imitate the sun: which shows its greatest
and most pleasing countenance when lowest down.
DEFINITIONS 453
2998.
The same sunshine which ripens the fruit also
withers it.
2999.
Sunshine conies only from one quarter at a
time, clouds may come from all quarters at once . . .
3000.
The superfluous is as necessary as the needful ;
only it can be dispensed with where the other
cannot.
3001.
The superior man will ever keep out of sight
two things: others' faults, his own merits.
3002.
A mark of superiority: to see the whereabouts
of your inferiority.
3003-
Where folk fail to see the superior man it is
because they think they see over him.
3004.
Suspicion is seldom on time. It is apt to be
either too early or too late. Hence I have no use
therefor. I prefer caution instead.
3005-
The swollen arm is not the stronger for its
size.
3006.
There are two ways of handling a sword: by
the hilt and by the blade.
454 APHORISMS
3°°7<
Sympathise with the great: it lifts you up to
them. vSympathise with the small: it does not
drag you down to them,
3008.
Taste appreciates the noble, talent ignores the
ignoble.
3009.
Taste may be had without brains, it is tact
that must be had with brains.
3010.
Tact deals with others' feelings; taste, with oursj
3011.
For appreciating the work of others, the in-
dispensable thing is sympathy : to estimate aright
ours, the needful thing is taste.
3012.
Tact is love improvised.
3013-
Tact is momentary love even for the common ;
taste is abiding love only for the beautiful.
3014.
Who prides himself upon his talents should be
able to show what he had done before his birth
to deserve them.
3015-
The very arrangement which keeps the wheel
on the track prevents it from service off the
track. Misapplied talent is only a wheel off
the track.
DEFINITIONS . 455
3016.
Taste is only appreciation of the temporal and
local; and hence is ever changeable in its very
nature. Tact is kindliness even for the temporal
and local, and is changeable only in its application.
3017.
Two great drawbacks to talent: to be so poor
as to be dependent; to be so rich as to be inde-
pendent.
3018.
Talents are a man's guard of honor when he is
dead; his prisoner sentinels while he is alive.
3019- %.
The tall reach higher, and have to — stoop lower.
3020.
Your teacher the shallow man also can be —
he needs to know the only next step beyond
yours. Your guide must be the profound man
—must have gone all the way before you.
3021.
"His defects are only those of temperament!"
But temper is part of character.
3022.
"That passage brings tears to my eyes" ! And
so does the — wind . . ;
3° 2 3-
To enter any temple we must fall on our
knees.
3024.
The temple itself few are able to build, but all
are able to furnish its stones.
456 APHORISMS
302S.
Every true temple is like Solomon's reared
in silence.
3026.
Against temptation the surest victors are those
who run away.
3027.
To go into temptation to find how strong you
are is to go before a mirror with closed eyes to
find out how you look when asleep.
. 3 . 028 '
From temptation it is easier to get away then
to keep away.
3029.
Others' goodness you may behold with joy;
your own, only with suspicion.
3030.
The test of a good intention is that you can
ask God's blessing upon its becoming a deed; the
test of a good deed is that you can thank God
for its not having remained a mere intention.
3031.
A searching test: to ask God to deal with you
to-day as you dealt with others yesterday.
3032.
The test of greatness of soul is the readiness
with which beauties are perceived in what is
plain, and blemishes ignored in what is beautiful.
3°33-
The test of the highest heroism is the readiness
to appear ridiculous to others rather than to
yourself.
DEFINITIONS '457
3034.
The hardest step is over the threshold, and
this is what makes it the longest.
3°35-
No time is more lost than that spent in hating
the errors of others and regreting our own.
3°3 6 -
Men divide time by days, weeks, months,
years. But there are only two essential divisions
of time: the present which is ours, the future
which is God's.
3°37-
To-day is seldom sane. It is safe from the asy-
lum only when it has become yesterday.
3038.
Of trees give me the evergreen, which dresses
the same summer and winter.
3039-
It is the trees on the hilltop that show the
prevailing winds.
3040.
Cut the trunk, the branches fall of themselves.
3041.
"We are both branches of the same tree!"
But what if you are only a sucker?
3042.
The enduring trunk casts a shadow, the
fading leaf gives the shade.
45 8- APHORISMS
3043-
The troubles of life are like the mountains:
imposing enough when looked at or up to, but
insignificant enough when looked down from
above.
3°44-
Two men are not to be fully trusted: who
knows not how to command himself, who knows
not how to obey others.
3°45-
I hear the virtue of unconsciousness of one's
own merit praised. But if blindness to my
neighbor is no merit, neither is blindness to my-
self. Not the being conscious of the merit is
the vice, but the priding oneself thereon.
3046.
To understand me he need not be my equal;
but to misunderstand me he must be my inferior.
3°47-
Uniform gentleness of manner is like pure
rainwater, and often alas! as insipid.
3048.
Men are never so near being unreasonable
themselves as when fighting unreasonableness.
3049-
It is easy to be truthful to liars, loving to haters,
noble to the mean, tolerant with the intolerant.
Only to be reasonable with the unreasonable-
there is the difficulty.
3050.
Even the useless life may become useful by
patient endurance of its very uselessness.
DEFINITIONS 459
30SI.
When am I most useful? When like the
hassock: got only for a foot-rest, but serving
also, if need be, for reaching to the top shelf.
3052.
The greater the vacancy, the swifter the rush
of wind to fill it.
30S3.
The price of things is easily got, it is their
value that is problematic.
3054.
Everything has two values: its eternal which
is fixed, and is either priceless or zero ; its temporal
which fluctuates from zero to pricelessness, the
price varying inversely to its value.
3°55-
The ear is more discriminating of sound than
the eye is of color and size. The voice is thus a
better index of the man than his face.
3056.
The making of a vow is a confession of future
weakness. The breaking of a vow is a confession
of present weakness.
3057-
Want may be easily endured, not so easily
the fear of want.
3058.
For rinsing dishes cold water may do; for
washing them it must be hot.
3°59-
Smoke is a sign of waste of fuel, noise is a sign
of waste of power.
30
460 APHORISMS
3060.
Weakness has two excuses: its own existence,
the existence of strength in others wherewith
to help.
3961.
Few are cheated by the scales they use; many
by the weights they put into them.
3062.
All know that weights are hard to bear for
one. Few know that compact weights are carried
easier by one than by two.
3 o6 3-
The wind extinguishes the match, but fans the
flame.
3064.
The wind prostrates the plant, and sows the seed.
3065.
The first windfalls are apt to be wormy.
3066.
The wing on the bird upholds it; off the bird
it falls of its own weight.
3067.
The too serious are easily forgiven, not so the
too witty.
3068.
Like the astronomer the professional wit also
looks at great objects; but with his telescope
inverted.
3069.
Wonder has an humble ancestry, but illustrious
progeny; it is the daughter of ignorance, the
mother of knowledge.
DEFINITIONS 46 1
3070.
The greatest value of most work is that for
the time it keeps folk busy.
3071.
Who has no pleasure in work will have to
make hard work of pleasure.
3072.
All are eager for the kernel, but worth is tested
at the breaking of the shell.
3°73-
Two well-known but unheeded facts: that
anxiety is no baker and produces no loaves;
that worry is no tailor, and makes no coats.
3074.
Familiarity with wrong reconciles us to it.
3°75-
The fear of doing wrong may keep one from
doing wrong. The fear of not doing right will
keep one from doing right.
3076.
To be more than half right is still to be alto-
gether wrong. There is no medium between
right and wrong any more than between truth
and falsehood.
3°77-
Better a kind No than a harsh Yes.
; 3078.
Yes is a whole third longer than No.
XXXI.
CONDUCT.
3°79-
The surest way to win a victory is to push on.
The surest way to enjoy it is to stop short.
3080.
Make your work as small as you please, only
give it broad wings.
3081.
Perfection is the one unattainability we must
yet ever strive to attain.
3082.
If censured look to yourself; if praised, look
to him.
3083-
To hold sound principles is only the small
part of conduct. To use sound judgment in ap-
plying them is its great part.
3084.
We should eat and drink below our means,
dress according to our means; give beyond our
means.
3085.
Always remember to hold up the highest
standards in theory, but never forget in practice
that a note pitched too high is equally inaudible
with one pitched too low.
CONDUCT 463
3086.
As long as in giving light you still burn yourself
out, you are only a candle. Be patient, it may
yet be thine to be a star . . .
3087.
And so the rule of conduct is to be : the great-
est possible happiness of the greatest possible
number for the longest possible time?
My abused, cheated, homeless Indian friend,
I will forthwith contribute to at least thy greatest
possible happiness for the longest possible time.
So here I am — do with me for thy pleasure as
thou wilt !
But, alas! I have only one scalp, and it takes
only a few seconds to scalp ma . . .
The greatest possible happiness of the greatest
possible number for the longest possible time . . .
3088.
Be gentle! The sea is held in check by a beach
of sand as much as by a wall of rock.
3089.
By all means have your way, if you wish to
lose your way.
3090.
By all means let well enough alone, only let
also ill enough alone.
3091.
By all means strive for the crown; only be
ready to wear its thorny rim first.
3092.
Cover your head if you wish not to catch cold ;
uncover your heart, if you wish to catch heat.
464 APHORISMS
Do everything f ourwise : do it cheerfully, do it
zealously, do it thoroughly, do it simply. Cheer
makes the task a pleasure, zeal makes it success,
thoroughness makes it perfect, simplicity makes
it beautiful.
3094.
Fail in everything, only be not a failure your-
self.
3°95-
For information it is well to read the newest
books; for culture, the oldest.
3096.
Forgive all — in justice to him. Forget not
quite all — in justice to yourself? No, but in
justice to others.
3097-
Has he wronged you? Give him time to forget
it by forgetting it yourself.
3098.
Hate not the useless, they are for thee to be
useful to.
3099.
Have a pocket for your successes, and keep it
tight, lest they issue thence ere long as failures.
Have a pocket for your failures, and keep it open,
till they issue thence as successes.
3100.
Have patience with the foolish: even to the
lot of geese it may befall to save a Capitol.
CONDUCT 465
3IOI.
Have your holy of holies, but also some high
priest to enter it at least once a year.
3102.
Hold strong ideas, but not strongly.
3103-
Humility by all means before your superior,
and by all means also before your inferior.
3104.
It is not enough to carry a compass, we must
also keep the magnet away.
3105.
Learn from the funnel, which though wide at
the inlet, is narrow .at the outlet.
3106.
Learn from the river, which when it cannot go
through the mountain goes around it.
3io7-
Look not for a scorpion under every stone, but
look for a viper under every pleasure, even that
of giving.
3108.
Make the best of yourself, no one else will.
Stand up for yourself, some will soon stand with
you. Believe in God for yourself, many will soon
believe in you. Deny yourself, a host will soon
follow you.
3109.
Never be independent unless you must.
466 APHORISMS
3IIO.
No master but duty, no servant but thyself,
no creed but truth, no enemy but a liar, no family
but mankind, no country but the world.
3111.
No one can live without being a debtor; no one
should live without being a creditor.
3112.
Not the going through the mire is blameworthy,
but the leaving of its dirt on the clothes.
3ii3-
Of importance is that we believe; of next im-
portance, what we believe.
3114.
Praise only to encourage, blame only to prevent.
3ii5-
Put on indeed your best clothes on Sunday,
but think your best thoughts also on other days.
3116.
Of the tree the roots must be many, the trunk
need be only one. With man it is the reverse;
the outward deeds may be many, the underlying
purpose must be one.
3II7-
However good a man, from the moment he
considers himself good he ceases to be good.
3118.
The surest way to win men's hearts is by
frankness and sincerity, but also the surest way
to lose them.
CONDUCT 467
3II9-
To make others feel you need only feel your-
self. To make others think, you must feel as
well as think yourself.
3120.
To please your audience, give them what they
know; to instruct it, give them what you know.
3121.
You can do another's work. You cannot per-
form another's duty.
3122.
To see, open your eyes; to see more, close them.
3123.
To sow you may stand ; to reap you must stoop.
3124.
To start the fire you must not mind the smoke.
3125.
The architect builds many houses for others
which he never inhabits himself. This is the
profession by which he lives. Let it also be ours
in which we live.
3126.
To those who hunger now give bread ; to those
who may hunger later, give only seed.
3127.
Never try to cure a man of his fault till he is
ready for it. The time for a funeral is only after
a death.
468 APHORISMS
3128.
To yourself give what you need; to your
neighbor what you can.
3129.
Strike the iron while 'tis hot; but better still:
strike the iron until it is hot.
3130-
Take heed what ye hear, means to shut your
ears as well as to open them.
3131-
The furrows are made for us ; ours is to put in
the seed and cover it.
3132.
Upon our destination we need only keep our
eyes. The arrival there is not always in our
power; but the proper care of our conveyance
during the journey — this is properly our part and
in our power.
3i33-
Some are slow with their ticket and fare, and
wait therewith till the conductor is tried, dis-
pleased. Let us so live that when called to pay
our last fare, we be not found fumbling, but
ready therewith in hand . . .
3i34-
Some there are like the serpent : which, though
it drink milk, yet speweth forth poison. God grant
us to be like the cloud which though it riseth from
the salt water returneth to earth as fresh. . .
CONDUCT 469
3135.
We should go through the world with one hand
empty, ready to take; with the other full, ready
to give.
3136.
We should imitate in life what we do in the
railway train; look placidly at what is nigh,
leaving what is far to come toward us of itself.
3*37 ■
We are put here to do not what we like but
what we must. Let us then learn to like what
we must.
3138.
Reject no precept as a commonplace as long as
its practice is uncommon.
3i39.
What was said of you in anger probably mis-
represents him — this forget. But it also probably
truly represents you — this remember.
3140.
There are two ways of getting your chestnuts
open: by pounding them yourself, by waiting
for the frost to crack them.
3 J 4i.
Sunshine, cultivate sunshine. It turns even a
drop of water into a jewel.
3142.
There are no limited partnerships in Ethics.
Your guilt, like your capital, may be small or
great, but the investment must be all yours.
You cannot be half innocent and half guilty at
the same time.
470 APHORISMS
3143-
Humility will exalt you only as long as you
keep low: like the swing which raises you from
the ground only as long as you keep in touch
with the ground.
3 J 44.
Who has too much faith in himself may yet
succeed; who has too much faith in others will
surely fail.
PARALIPOMENA.
XXXII.
3145-
" You cannot guide the multitude without de-
ceiving it," said the wisest of the Greeks. And
truly enough, if it is to be guided without com-
mission from above. It is a mark of the divine
commission of Moses and of the One greater than
Moses that the one did guide God's chosen,
visible host, that the Other still guides God's
chosen, invisible host — without deceiving . . .
3146.
Man has a body, a soul, and a spirit. The
needs of the body were meant to be supplied by
nature, and this is the field of true science. The
needs of the soul were meant to be supplied by
the wisdom of man, and this is the field of true
art. The Bible has much of science, and still
more of art, but only incidentally. The needs of
the spirit were alone meant to be supplied neither
by science nor by art, but by a written revelation,
and the Bible is this revelation.
3i47-
Men are short, not of experience, but of the
ability to profit thereby.
3148.
Earthly peace may be obtained by imprisoning
our passions; heavenly peace, only by exiling
them.
472 APHORISMS
3149-
Earthly tonics leave men feeling better than
before. It is a mark of heavenly tonic that it
leaves men feeling themselves worse than before..
3i5°.
With the small their lives are often better than
their thoughts. With the great their thoughts
are ever better than their lives.
3i5i-
A man's words should be measured only by the
truth that is in them; his deeds, by the spirit
that is in him.
3i5 2 -
He is great who remains poised when men take
note of him; but greater he who still remains
poised even though men take no note of him.
3I53-
Prometheus chained to the rock is his punish-
ment; the eagle daily plucking at his liver is the
merciful distraction therefrom. Who can steal
fire from heaven suffers more in being chained to
the rock than from a hole in his liver. Of the two
I would choose the heartache rather than the
toothache, said Heine, in a moment of shallowness.
3154.
Even the wisest are seldom wise in all their own
affairs. It is a proof of man's fallen state that a
man's wisdom consists chiefly in his ability to
note the follies of others.
PARALIPOMENA 473
3155-
The great man is apt to make two serious mis-
takes: first, in thinking that others are like him;
and then in treating them as if they were so unlike
him.
3156.
Dislike — what is it but merely being unlike?
Mere dislike is therefore hardly ever in itself an
evidence of the justice of the feeling, unless one
can challenge the Universe to show that one never
dislikes aught but the mean and ignoble. Per-
sonal dislikes, which are so oft palliated with the
name of uncongeniality, constitutional antipathy,
are oftener a sign of a not wholly healthy indivi-
duality; and it is the art of Life to learn to dis-
like only what is wrong; and to like only the
right, whether it be agreeable or not. The fatal-
lest intellectual somersault is to seek for reasons
that condemn a thing which would never be
sought but for those cherished dislikes. Aesop's
Wolf and the Lamb, who tho' drinking down
stream, was yet to die because it muddled the
waters of the wolf who had been drinking up-
stream, remains ever a modern as well as an
ancient instance. And the same is true of likes —
in the reverse direction ; but with this difference :
Wrong likes seldom harm any but him who in-
dulges therein. Wrong dislike may ruin both
him against whom it is harbored as well as him
that harbors it.
ADDRESSES, Etc.
31
I
EMERSON.
i.
Among American men of Letters, Emerson is
easily the principal figure; nay rightly under-
stood, he is perhaps the only American man of
letters. In a recently gotten together series of
American Men of Letters, one volume was devoted
to a cyclopedia editor, and another to a maker of
a dictionary. On such a view of literature some
rather notable postman might also some day
find his place yet among men of letters. But
literature is something more than the handling of
a pen, or perchance of a type-writer, for some six
hours daily, preceded by a call at the club in the
morning, followed by walk on the avenue in the
afternoon, and concluded by roast goose and
onion in the evening.
2.
Now with the exception of the literature of the
anti-slavery days, when the dilettante colors had
at last to be wiped off the literary glasses for aye-
American men of letters, where they are not mere
exchangers of written commodities for dollarish
things, are not so much American writers, as
cosmopolitan writers. America's great histori-
ans, Bancroft, Prescott, Motley, make the word
' "America" in their case a mere geographical
expression. America's classic Irving; its singers
like Longfellow and Lowell, are no more American
than is its philosophy, its science, or what little it
hath of culture. They are mostly cosmopolitan,
EMERSON 477
or rather they are palimpsests: European texts
covered with American script. Of the few excep-
tions to this nigh universal rule, Oliver Wendell
Holmes was, for wholesomeness, far too conscious
of the physiological fact that men in addition to
their weeping apparatus are also endowed with a
laughing apparatus. And to appeal solely to the
Democritus in man is to descend to the mere
amuser. Nay when even the fine-grained Lowell
doffs for brief time his Eurpoean dress, and en-
deavors to don an American garb, he seldom gets
further than that pointed cap which in the Middle
Ages was worn by those privileged folk, who,
under the guise of jest, could afford to tell truth
to royal ears without risk of cap and head rolling
off together at the block. When even Lowell
leaves his European seriousness to become an
American humorist, he becomes a piece of Ameri-
can scenery ; a kind of Yellowstone Park on the one
side, and a strip of bad lands on the other; a
Virgilian Pastoral scene on the right, and a
twenty-foot Quaker Oat -meal advertisement on
the left.
3-
The only other truly American man of literary
genius, Nathaniel Hawthorne, was betrayed into
accepting fiction as the expression of his art, and
has thus spent a life-time in digging for iron with a
spade of gold. Emerson, however, is a genuine
American, a veritable Yankee. In extravagance
of a certain kind, he too indeed is in nowise
wanting. But his is not American extravagance,
his is not Yankee extravagance. While his
literary shortcomings are only those of the
human mind, his literary virtues are those of the
47^ EMERSON
Yankee blood. The extra drop of nervous
fluid which infused into the Englishman's phleg-
matic temper makes the American, becomes in
Emerson a nervous battery, and makes his
sentences become a series of electric shocks.
Emerson is indeed a dozen ancestors rolled into
one. He has much of Adam, and not a little of
Cain before, and of Noah after the flood. He
has a great deal of Plato and Montaigne, and
somewhat of Budda and Zoroaster. But he
has most of all that in him which makes Eli
Whitney restless until he has abbreviated the
making of cotton by his gin. He has that in
him which makes Fulton restless until he has
relegated the two and thirty winds into the bag
of Aeolus, there to remain useless because of the
use of steam. Emerson has that energy within
him which makes the manufacturer restless until
he has hitched his wheel to the falls of Niagara;
the economist restless until he has transferred the
fire of the volcano into his own oven, wherewith
to bake his bread. He has that energy within him
which makes the Sozodont owner restless until he
has announced its merits to every passenger train
from the roadside ; that restlessness which heaps
societies into associations ; associations into com-
binations; and combinations into trusts. Fine-
grained souls justly shake their heads at the trusts,
and ascribe their rise to the universal hunger for
gold. But the evil itself has its root in less
ignoble soil ; not so much in the universal hunger
for gold, as rather in that universal American
hunger for the gigantic, which has found expres-
sion in Emerson's own right noble phrase, Hitch
your wagon to a star.
EMERSON 479
Accordingly, the first characteristic of Emerson
is that though he has not only the eagle's eye, but
also the swiftness of his pounce; he has in addi-
tion thereto, that balancing practicalness of the
American, that saving shrewdness of the Yankee,
which keeps him as a man of letters from many a
grievous error of his kin. He is caught in Man-
chester at a banquet of saw-dust-meally kind of
folk, and is awaited to open his mouth in public
speech. Archibald Allison presides, and unlike
Parliamentary Presider, does in nowise keep
silent. Cobden is there, Punchman is there, and
Dickens makes himself visible by a letter. All
these notabilities must, in some way, be taken due
note of, when this Pegasus, stalled for .once with
wingless oxen, has at last to spread his wings,
else the proprieties of the notable occasion shall
be rudely disturbed. Emerson therefore begins,
banquetish enough.
"Mr. Chairman and Gentlemen: It is pleasant
to me to meet this great and brilliant company -
and doubly pleasant to see the faces of so many
distinguished persons on this platform. But I
have known all these persons already. When I
was at home, they were as near to me as they are
to you. The arguments of the League and its
leader are known to all the friends of free trade.
The gayeties and genius, the political, the social,
the parietal wit of "Punch" go duly every fort-
night to every boy and girl in Boston and New
York. Sir, when I came to sea, I found the "His-
tory of Europe" (by Archibald Allison) on the
ship's cabin table, the property of the captain — ;
a sort of programme, or playbill, to tell the sea-
480 EMERSON
faring New Englander what he shall find on his
landing here. And as for Dombey, sir, there is
no land where paper exists to print on, where it is
not found; no man who can read that does not
read it; and if he cannot, he finds some charitable
pair of eyes that can, and hears it."
5-
As one listens to these words, as one reads them
on printed page of his collected works, one rubs
his eyes in wonder. Is this Emerson, the great
Emerson? Ralph Waldo Emerson? Even
Homer sometimes nods, but his is not nodding:
this is snoring. For with the sole exception of
that fine, truly Emersonian phrase — "If he cannot
read, he finds some charitable pair of eyes that
can, and hears," every word of the speech so far
might have well come from the lips of Mr. Chaun-
cey Depew, so proper, so after-dinnerish, so
swallow-tail like. " Great and brilliant com-
pany;" "So many distinguished persons on this
platform;" "Every boy and girl in New York and
Boston reading Punch;" "No man that can read
that does not read Dombey," — is this the voice of
Jacob? Are not the hands here of Esau? Hath
Saul fallen among lying prophets? Pegasus,
hast thou too become a stalled ox, or per-
chance, a fatted, foolish calf? No, Pegasus has
not become an ox, stalled or otherwise. In an
instant he breaks the shackles of earth; he spreads
his wings, and up he soars; for Emerson goes on:
"But these things are not for me to say, these
compliments, though true, would better come from
.one who felt and understood these merits more.
I am not here to exchange civilities with you, but
EMERSON 481
rather to speak of that which I am sure interests
these gentlemen more than their own praises; of
that which is good in holidays and working days
the same in one century and in another cen-
tury : That which lures a solitary American in the
woods with the wish to see England, is the moral
peculiarity of the Saxon race, its commanding
sense of right and wrong, the love and devotion
to that — this is the imperial trait which arms them
with the sceptre of the globe," and then goes on
with an apotheosis of England which might have
well fallen from the lips of Demosthenes himself.
And this shrewd Yankee wit which delivers
him so successfully when entrapped into Free
Trade Banquet Speech serves him in equally
good stead where the affair is more serious even
than banquet : And this is the manner in which he
is delivered: "Do not tell me," he says, "as a good
man did today, of my obligation to put all poor
men in good situations. Are they my poor? I
tell thee, thou foolish philanthropist, that I
grudge the dollar, the dime, the cent, I give to
such men as do not belong to me, and to whom I
do not belong. There is a class of persons to
whom by all spiritual affinity I am bought and
sold; for them will I go to prison if need be;
but your miscellaneous popular charities; the
education at college of fools ; the building of meet-
ing houses to the vain end to which many now
stand; alms to sots, and the thousandfold Relief
Societies — though I confess with shame I some-
times succumb and give the dollar, it is a wicked
dollar, which by and by I shall have the manhood
to withold."
482 EMERSON
7-
Lastly, this shrewd Yankee wit saves him most
effectually, not only from the accidental pitfalls
which lie in the way of the literary man, but it
saves him also from the one pitfall into which all
other philosophers have hitherto fallen most
successfully. For Emerson is first of all essen-
tially a philosopher, but that which makes phil-
osophers a weariness to ordinary flesh, is in
Emerson nearly wholly wanting. The hereness
of the there, and the thereness of the here; the
thisness of the that, and the thatness of the this;
the howness of the why, and the whyness of the
how; the beingness of ising, and the isingness of
being — these he slyly left to his transcendental
companions. Whatever interest he too had in the
treeness of the tree, and the thought ness of the
thought ; the ideaness of the idea, and the ought-
ness of the ought; the willness of the shall, and
the shallness of the will — the elaboration thereof
into verbiage he left to his friend Alcott; and
whatever charm the subjectivity of the subject,
and the objectivity of the object may have for
him, he leaves the discussion thereof to Samuel
Taylor Coleridge. Now and then he indeed does
fall into the strain of the metaphysician, but he
quickly recollects himself. Emerson sometimes
nods, but sledom as philosopher. Even in his
little volume called Nature, where he apparently
starts out like a lusty system builder with all the
apparatus of cause and effect, and inifnitude,
and sublimitude, and wherefore and therefore,
and hence and thence — like an uncoupled engine
he speedily escapes from his load, and he ends at
EMERSON 483
last with faring like Saul of eld, the son of Kish;
he starts out to seek asses, and lo! he finds a
Kingdom !
Out of this shrewd Americanism of Emerson
springs his second characteristic; his fragmen-
tariness; his systemlessness ; his great virtue of
philosophic inconsistency. For a system of
philosophy is at best a pyramid upside down: a
vast structure built upon a point, hence a little
wind blows it down. The great metaphysicians
of the ages have ever been a kind of North-Pole-
Passage-Seeking Company. No sooner had one
bold explorer gone forth with his expedition than
another must be sent after him, if not indeed al-
ways to bring back his corpse, at least to thaw
him out. Franklin has to be followed by Kane:
Greeley by Peary; Andree by some one else. So
likewise Plato must be followed by Aristotle;
Descartes by Spinoza; Locke by Berkeley; Kant
by Fichte; Hegel by Schelling. Each system is
indeed in its own eyes as unupsettable as the
rock of Scylla; but the opposing system is in its
own eyes equally unupsettable; as unupsettable
as the rock of Charybdis. And the poor seeker
after truth among the metaphysicians, caught
thus between Scylla and Charybdis, is crushed;
crushed indeed now right ideally, and now right
materially; now right noumenally, and now right
phenomenally; now right transcendent ally, and
now right experimentally, but crushed he is all
the same relentlessly, even though it be done
with right exquisite consistency.
484 EMERSON
It is the great merit of Emerson as a philoso-
pher that he is a philosopher without a system,
that he is consistent in his very inconsistency.
He had early learned the lesson meant to be con-
veyed by the placing side by side of the two
verses in Proverbs: "Answer not a fool according
to his folly, lest thou also be like unto him.
Answer a fool according to his folly, lest he be
wise in his own conceit ?"
"The other terror," he says, "is our consistency;
a reverence for our past act or word because the
eyes of others have no other data for computing
our orbit than our past acts, and we are loath to
dissappoint them. But why should you drag
about this monstrous corpse of your memory, lest
you contradict somewhat you have stated in this
or that public place? Suppose you should con-
tradict yourself? What then? . . . Trust your
emotion. In your metaphysics you have denied
personality to the Deity, yet when the devout
moments of your soul come, yield to them heart
and life, though they should clothe God with shape
and color. Leave your theory, as Joseph his coat
in the hand of the harlot, and flee. A foolish
consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored
by little statesmen and philosophers and divines.
With consistency a great soul has simply nothing
to do. He may as well concern himself with his
shadow on the wall. Out upon your guarded
lips! Sew them up with pock thread, do. Else,
if you would be a man speak what you think today
in words as hard as cannon-balls, and tomorrow
speak what tomorrow thinks in hard words again,
though it contradict everything you said today.
EMERSON 485
Ah, then, exclaim the aged ladies, you shall be
sure to be misunderstood! Misunderstood! It
is a right fool's word. Pythagoras was misunder-
stood, and Socrates, and Jesus, and Luther, and
Copermicus, and Galileo, and Newton, and every
pure and wise spirit that ever took flesh. To be
great is to be misunderstood."
10.
It is this systemlessness that saves him as a
man of letters ; that saves him from the usual fate
of the systematizing philosophers. A musician
without fingers; a painter without hands; a racer
without feet quickly loses his artisitc skill;
Emerson gains by his very loss. Though he has
the mystic outlook of Swedenborg, he has not his
illusions : though he has the eagle eye of Napoleon,
he has not his brutality ; though he has the poise
of Goethe, he has not his frivolity. He is an
American; but a Yankee American; he is a
Puritan; but a 19th century Puritan; he is a
Christless Plato, but a Plato rolled out into an
American Benjamin Franklin.
11.
Out of this systemlessness, out of this frag-
mentariness springs Emerson's third characteris-
tic: his well-nigh matchless economy of artistic
expression. Emerson has indeed, a most nu-
merous artistic ancestry, and I have already stated
that he is a dozen ancestors rolled into one. But
what he has least of all in him is the Frenchman.
And yet, in spite of this, his most unFrench
Americanism, no one, in the whole range of letters,
has more of the economic French housewife in him
486 EMERSON
than Emerson; nay, with the sole exception of
Turgenef no one has perhaps even scarcely as
much. No housewife can make the leavings of
today's dinner go so far towards tomorrow's
breakfast as the French-woman. And so Emer-
son knows how to gather up even the minutest
filings of words into most powerful magnets by
the sheer charge through them of his own nervous
fluid. Accordingly in the power of expression,
concentrated expression, which indeed is alone
worthy of the name of literary art, Emerson stands
unsurpassed.
12.
When at his best he is not content until his
paragraph has been compressed into a period;
the period into a sentence; the sentence into a
phrase ; the phrase into an expression ; the expres-
sion into a word; the word into a syllable; the
syllable into a letter; the letter into an apostrophe.
Emerson is not content until he sees the three
words "in spite of" reduced into the one word
"maugre," and he rests not until he cramps the
four letters of the two words it is by means of the
apostrophe into the three letters of the one word
'tis. Critical folk, who are rather slow to find
beauties where beauties are, but swift to find
blemishes where blemishes are not, have con-
demned Emerson's "maugre" and "'tis" as
affectatious, as pedantic. ' But for whate'er else
Emerson may justly incur censure, for pedantry
and affectation he cannot be censured. He is
at times archaic, but not pedantic; he is sometimes
stiff, but never affected. These concentrated
expressions are as much part of Emerson as his
matchless saying, matchless in its intense com-
EMERSON 487
pression. "Commit a crime, and the world
is made of glass." This passion for concentra-
tion takes him at times to the verge of obscurity
even for those happy sons of Adam to whom
Browning is an ever-open book. But this because
he is essentially a great literary artist, filled herein
with the spirit of Him that commandeth after
feeding the five thousand that the broken pieces
be gathered up lest aught be wasted.
i3-
Emerson has come herein right close to the
heart of the great God who numbereth even the
hairs of our head as well as the sands of the shore ;
who weigheth the hills in the balance, and the dust
in the scales. Emerson has herein come nigh
to the method of him who hath said, Every idle
word that men shall speak they shall give account
thereof in the day of judgment, for by thy words
thou shalt be justified, and by thy words thou
shalt be condemned. Emerson is thus a literary
Economist of the highest order. This has indeed
the disadvantage of being enjoyable, not to say
acceptable, only to the few; but these few are of
the class of whom Aesop's lioness spake, when
chided for bringing forth only one offspring:
"One, but a— lion."
14.
Emerson is a match which does not yield
its fire unless rubbed; and rubbed not so much
against the coarse sandpaper as against the smooth
velvet. But the human kind of these two cen-
turies is not given to the slow process of striking
matches by rubbing. It prefers to get the light
by pressing a button instead ; and Emerson is not
488 EMERSON
an easily touched, pressible button, Emerson
remains, as he ever was, the infinitely repelling
particle.
i5-
Emerson is to a thought what the spider
is to its victim. As the spider fastens itself
upon the fly and sucks and sucks thereat until all
that is left thereof is a mere shell, so Emerson
fastens himself upon a thought and presses and
squeezes and sucks thereat until he hath ex-
hausted it to dryness.
16.
And thus we arrive at Emerson's fourth charac-
teristic, his greatest characteristic, that he is
primarily an aphorist, not only a thinker, but a
sayer of thoughts, and among these only Pascal
can be placed worthily by his side. He had
indeed fed much on Montaigne, and the legiti-
mate successors of Montaigne in France are
Rochefoucault, La Bruyere, Joubert, Vauvenar-
gues. But giants though these be in their field,
Emerson is among them a Goliath. Dame Part-
ington with her broom sweeping at the Atlantic
gives but a faint impression of the difference in
power betwixt these and Emerson. " Language,"
he says, "is fossil poetry." "Give me health and
a day," he cries, "and I will make the pomp of
emperors ridiculous." His genius is most at home
as a maker of phrases, and in striking sentences
like these he is unsurpassed, and in volume per-
haps unapproached. On reading him you feel
as if you had laid hold of Humbolt's South Ameri-
can eel, with consequent series of electric shocks:
"Set a hedge here," he says; "set oaks there,
EMERSON 489
trees behind trees; above all, set overgreens, for
they will keep a secret all the year round." "No
man is fit for society who has fine traits. At a
distance he is admired, but bring him- hand to
hand, he is a cripple." "We pray to be conven-
tional. But the wary heaven takes care you shall
not be if there is anything good in you. Dante
was very bad company, and was never invited to
dinner. Michael Angelo had a sad, sour time of
it." "We sit and muse and are serene and com-
plete, but the moment we meet with anybody each
becomes a fraction." "Society we must have,
but let it be society, and not exchanging news, or
eating from the same dish. Is it society to sit
in one of your chairs? I cannot go to the house
of my nearest relatives because I do not wish to
be alone." "I find out in an instant if my com-
panion does not want me, and ropes cannot hold
me when my welcome is gone." "Assort your
party or invite none. Put Stubbs and Coleridge,
Quintilian and Aunt Miriam, into pairs and you
make them wretched. 'Tis an extempore Sing-
Sing built in a parlor. Leave them to seek their
own mates, and they will be merry as sparrows."
"All conversation is a magnetic experiment. I
know that my friend can talk eloquently; you
know that he cannot articulate a sentence: we
have seen him in different company." These
seven sayings are all from one single essay out of
his hundred.
i7-
Emerson is thus an aphorist, and an aphorist
of the highest order. I will go further and say
that in so far that he has literary life at all, it is
490 EMERSON
because of his aphorisms,, rather than because of
the Emersonism so dear to his admirers.
i8i
Emerson is false, and will have to go as all
falsehood has to go. But while Shakespeare
without his playableness is no more Shakespeare,
since his dramatic garb is as inseparable from the
man as the coat in the fable which comes off only
with the flesh — while Goethe without his sing-
ableness is no more Goethe, but a George Eliot
in speech, and grandpa'ish Novalis in thought;
while Carlyle without his groan becomes a kind
of Benjamin Franklin whistle, Emerson is at his
best when stripped of all his Emersonism. He is
an eagle from whom each master in the various
fields of life can pluck a feather. The meta-
physician can show flaws in his philosophy, and
out comes the philosophic feather. The his-
torian finds a hole in his theory of history, and
out comes the historic feather. The scientist
has a right lusty pull at his doctrine that a horse
is but a running man, a tree but a rooted man, and
out comes the scientific feather; lastly the Chris-
tian jerks most relentlessly at his whole theory
of life, and out come wing feathers, breast feathers,
head feathers, and divers other feathers. And in
the end we behold him lying before us all plucked,
a plucked eagle. But while ordinary eagles when
plucked, are not readily distinguishable from
plucked geese, it is Emerson's singular fortune
that he is then most his literary self, when de-
prived of all that makes him great in the sight of
his disciples. For Emerson is only then truly
found, when he is first wholly lost.
EMERSON 491
19.
After listening to the ravishing playing of
Paganini on his violin, Heine complimented the
artist for his marvellous performance. "But
I pray you, tell me," asked the disappointed
violinist, "how did you like my bows to the
audience?" And even of Napoleon it is reported
that he was more concerned with the opinion folk
had of the shape and tinge of his hands than of the
art with which he fought his battles. Some such
misrelation seemed also to exist between Emer-
son's true art and what he had accepted as his
true vocation in life. For not in fragmentary dis-
course alone was Emerson master. I have
already spoken of his words at Manchester ban-
quet, that as an orator even the strain of De-
mosthenes is not wanting to him. His letters
to Carlyle, the narrative portion of his "English
Traits" show clearly that even in continuous
discourse he can be a lion among beasts, a whale
among fish, a sun among planets. But Emerson
has not only renounced continuous discourse
where he would be a cloudless sun, he has breathed
over his aphorisms vapors so foreign to them that
the artist becomes a beclouded moon.
20.
For it is the last and chief characteristic of
Emerson that he is not only a protestor against
the falsehoods of Christendom, but he is also a
teacher against the truth of Christianity, and
here he has fared like all those who have gone be-
fore him, be they emperor, be they scientist, be
they literary man. Not a century, scarcely a
decade, has indeed passed but a right vigorous
32
492 EMERSON
canonade of all manner of artillery has been
directed against that Gibraltar of the ages, the
cross of Christ. But the powder has proved to be
only that for firecrackers, and the shot has proved
to be only peas; and while the glare has indeed
been at times rather brilliant, and the rattle rather
loud, Gibraltar still stands, and like a granite
cube, however often overturned, the cross of
Christ is ever found right side up.
For Christianity has indeed enjoined upon men
to hold fast that which is good; but it has also
enjoined upon men to prove not some things,
but all things. Christianity has indeed enjoined
upon men to be filled with the spirit of God, but
it hath also enjoined upon men to try the spirits
whether they be of God. Christianity has indeed
enjoined upon men to contend earnestly for the
faith once for all delivered unto the saints, but it
has also enjoined upon men to be ready to give
unto every one that asketh a reason for the faith
that is in them. Christianity does indeed com-
mand the disciple to walk in the full assurance
of the blessed hope, but it also commands
the disciple to examine himself whether he be in
the faith. Christianity is thus a scientific re-
ligion, with constant exhortation to apply thereto
the scientific methods, with constant appeal to
the law of evidence, upon which modern science
professeth so much to repose.
22.
But while Christianity is thus scientific, and
never asks man to accept aught but what can be
proved, Christendom has adopted a method far
other than scientific. As it holdeth no longer fast
EMERSON 493
to that which is good, it can no more prove all
things whether they be good. As it is no longer
filled with the Spirit of God, it can no longer
try the spirits whether they be of God. As it
contends no longer earnestly for the faith once
for all delivered unto the saints, it can give no
longer a reason to every one that asketh for the
faith that is therein. As it no longer walks in
the assurance of the blessed hope of the return of
the absent Lord, it can no longer examine itself
whether it be in the faith. Christendom has
thus substituted the traditions of men for the
word of God; authority for experience; conformity
for conviction. And against this unscientific,
unchristian method of Christendom it is that
Emerson felt called upon to enter his protest with
the strength of a Samson, with the voice of a Stentor.
23-
And had Emerson been content to pause
here, my task would here be done. But Emerson
has not been content to pause here. The true
protestor became a false teacher; to a false auth-
ority he opposes an equally false self-reliance.
And this non-conformity, this self-reliance forms
accordingly the warp and woof of Emerson's
being. It is the burden of his song, the strain
of his various themes..
24.
The key note to Emerson's message unto man
is Self -Reliance. Look only to thyself, for thou
art God. This doctrine of Self-Reliance is not
so very new, as his worshippers would fain make
men believe. It was in nowise born with Emer-
son; was old already some centuries before him.
494 EMERSON
Francis Bacon — who had openly confessed as his
Lord the same Christ whom Emerson patronizes
as a merely misunderstood fellow-seer in the realm
of Self -Reliance — -had already talked in a similar
strain. The stoics had already said this much,
even before Bacon, and a certain Babylonian
King, Nebuchadnezzar by name, had even become
quite exalted in his own sight as an ample piece
of Self -Reliance. And long before even Neb-
uchadnezzar, a certain dame, Miriam by name,
had been a rather eloquential exponent of Emer-
sonian doctrine; "Hath the Lord spoken to Moses
only V ' Nay, if we go to the bottom of the matter,
we find the enunciation of Emerson's doctrine of
Self -Reliance as far back as in Paradise itself:
"If ye, O Adam and Eve, only disobey God — ye
shall be yourselves as God!"
25-
But who shall say that it was not this tampering
with the truth of Christ that made the otherwise
pious Bacon a corrupt judge? Nebuchadnezzar
had to eat grass like an ox ere he could be healed
of his delusion; and Miriam had to become a
leper ere she could be healed of hers. And in
paradise our parents became indeed like Gods,
but with the rather sad result of making Emerson
indispensable henceforth to all who like him be-
come self -uplifted Gods
26.
As the whole law and the prophets hang
upon the two commandments Thou shalt love the
Lord thy God with all thy heart, and all thy
soul, and all thy mind, and all thy strength,
EMERSON 495
and, Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself,
so the whole dozen volumes of Emerson re-
volve round these two foci; Conform to none,
on the one hand — to none, not even to Christ;
trust thyself, on the other, whosoever thou art,
if even a gosling, since thou too, man, art
God. And this, his anti-christian teaching at
once suffuses a glow of consistency through
every page of this master of inconsistency. The
philosopher quarrels with Emerson for his in-
consistency; the scientist quarrels with him for his
oracular positiveness, his orphicity. But having
along with Christendom rejected Christianity,
having with the water of the bath thrown away
also the child it contained; having thus cut
himself off from what alone makes life consist-
ent; from what alone brings order into chaos,
even the cross of Christ, Emerson could become
consistent only as a apostle of inconsistency. But
he is inconsistent solely because having espied
the true evil, he offers the false remedy. In like
manner he is oracular because having once re-
jected the Christ who is alone The Truth, it was
part of true wisdom not to pause midway, but
to go to the end; and to oppose to every Thus Saith
the Lord, an equally positive Thus Saith Emerson-
ian Ralph Waldo.
27.
In his singularly inadequate paper on Emerson,
Matthew Arnold complains of him, that though
he belongs to those who are helpers in the Spirit,
he must deny him a place among the great writers,
because he lacks texture ; because he lacks uniform
greatness of style. And it must be confessed
496 EMERSON
that the charge, as thus stated, is just enough.
Abounding as he is in noble paragraphs and brave
sentences, Emerson does indeed lack uniform
texture. He abounds in pages that are half true,
quarter-true, not at all true. He abounds in
pages of which the sense cannot be got through the
grammar, the meaning hardly even through the
dictionary. So that logical head of New England
Bar can only exclaim with right royal disdain:"/
don't read Emerson, my girls do." Requested
once to explain a passage, he frankly owns that
he must have known its meaning once, but in
nowise now. But surely, Matthew Arnold, who
could deal so justly with Joubert, would not thus
have been misled by Emerson's style had he once
understood that the literary Emerson is not to
be judged as a writer of continuous discourse, but
rather the man Emerson, the enemy of the Cross ;
that the literary Emerson was a writer of de-
tached thoughts, a gigantic Joubert, just as Jupiter
though like the earth only a planet, is still a
gigantic earth. But as mere aphorist Emerson
could not overthrow the cross of Christ by hurling
epigrams against it, just as the Capitol at Wash-
ington cannot be exploded by a mere bundle of
matches. Of dynamite for granite palace there
is indeed abundance enough, but dynamite for
exploding the Cross, there is none to be had in the
market at any quotation. Accordingly in de-
fault of dynamite, Emerson has to take to rags
wherewith to feed the fire of his beautiful matches.
Rags, however, instead of burning themselves,
put out the matches instead, with net result of
a logical Judge vociferating "I don't read Emerson,
my girls do!"
EMERSON 497
28. '
For by a grim kind of divine irony, this anti-
christianity of Emerson becomes a veritable
Waterloo to that marvellous literary art of his.
As Walter Scott met his Waterloo in his Life of
Napoleon; as Matthew Arnold has met his
Waterloo in his essays on Emerson and Shelley, so
Emerson himself has met his Waterloo in his
doctrine of Self -Reliance. For his false system of
Self-Reliance must be supported by the still
falser doctrine that man is God. And the
theory that man is God must be upheld even
though the right lovely babes of aphorisms
have to be suffocated under a heap of phil-
osophic verbiage. To give plausibility to the
theory, the picture must be given a frame;
the jewel must be given a casket; the casket
crushes the jewel, the setting shears the gem of its
beams. The numerous discourses in which Emer-
son's precious sentences are well-nigh hopelessly
entombed form a kind of Barbarossa armor to
them: instead of protecting, they drag down.
The very setting in which his gems are encased,
that which is most trusted to float his treasure,
sinks them; the setting to his maxims has proved
a life preserver wrongly put on. Instead of keep-
ing the head out of the water, it sends up the
feet instead. Emerson's literary art is thus a
child in the hands of a tender but incompetent
nurse; suffocated by its very wrappage. And the
treatment Christianity received at the hands of
Emerson is likely to be his own at the hands of his
future readers: the child is like to be thrown
away with the water in which it was bathed.
49^ EMERSON
29.
This it is that poor Matthew Arnold is so
hopelessly struggling to put into speech about
Emerson. He had rummaged through all the
pigeon-holes of literature and found no place for
Emerson, just, as Noah's dove finds no place for
the sole of her feet. He goes among the poets and
finds no place for Emerson here. He goes among
the philosophers, and finds no room for him there.
He goes among the great writers, and lo! here
also, he cannot stow away this elephant of a Ralph
Waldo. In despair he at last patches him on to
the imperial purple of Rome; coupling thus the
steam-engine to the truckman's dray-beast. Mat-
thew Arnold, not beholding in Emerson the
matchless aphorist could only fumble about with
his criticism, but his instinct was wiser than his
canon, and his condemnation of Emerson's tex-
ture, however ill-motived, was nevertheless abid-
ingly just.
3°-
But however right Arnold be in the condem-
nation of Emerson's style, the vice lies not in his
maxims, nor in his aphorisms but solely in his
consecutive discourse in the clothing of his maxims
in the wrappage of his aphorisms. When, for
example, he says: "This life of ours is stuck round
with Egypt, Greece, Gaul, England, War, Coloni-
zation, Church, Court, Commerce, as with
so many flowers and wild ornaments grave and
gay," he utters not only a profound saying, an
admirable thought; he utters even a painted
image, feasting the soul not only with a truth,
EMERSON 499
but with a picturesque truth: offering not only a
thought to the mind, but a bouquet to the
imagination. But apart from even this sentence
suffering somewhat from more than needless
share of evening trail to the reception gown, he
introduces this otherwise admirable sentence with
the remark that time dissipates into shining ether
the solid angularities of facts. Well, a fact that
has angles and solid angles suggests a table;
and while it is indeed rather difficult to behold
a table dissipated, and dissipated into ether,
and into shining ether, and all this done by time —
yet the love which covereth all things could well
cover this also, all the more so in Ralph Waldo
Emerson. But he follows his saying about this
life of ours being stuck round, with these words:
"I will not make more account of them: (Egypt,
Greece, Gaul, etc). I believe in eternity. I
can find Greece, Palestine, Italy, Spain, and the
Islands — the genius and creative principle of each
in my own mind;" and forthwith he opens the
Pandora box for all manner of legitimate off-
spring of such Self -Reliance : forthwith he opens
the Pandora box for the American youth in the
village crying to Elisha: "Go up, go up, thou bald-
head;" he opens the Pandora box for the anar-
chist in the city/ who objects to the comb and
brush of the law as well as to the comb and the
brush of the hair; he opens the Pandora box
for that godless self-sufficiency upon which the
sacred writer passes such terrible sentence
with the words: In those days there was no
King in Israel; every one did what was right
in his own eyes."
500 EMERSON
31-
And as in his essay on Self-Reliance he lays
the foundation for Anarchy, so in his essay on
Compensation, he lays foundation for that Chris-
tian Science which is neither Christian nor scien-
tific, just as the numerous New England straw-
berry hills are distinguished chiefly for having no
strawberries and for being no hills. "Existence,"
he says, "or God, is not a relation or a part but the
whole. Being" — and here for once the shrewd
Ralph Waldo Emerson fails to escape the hereness
of the there, and the thereness of the here;
the isingness of being and beingness of ising —
"Being" he says, "is the vast affirmative, ex-
cluding negation, self-balanced, and swallowing
up all relations, parts and times, within itself.
Nature, truth virtue, are the influx from thence.
Vice is the absence of departure of the same.
Nothing, Falsehood, may indeed stand as the great
night or shade on which as a background the
living universe paints itself forth; but no fact
is begotten by it ; it cannot work, for it is not. It
cannot work any good, it cannot work any
harm." On which unintelligible passage the only
intelligible commentary is that heroic treatment
which requires the patient to sit in silence at
one dollar an hour, and to meditate on the un-
reality of toothache at $10.00 a course.
32.
And hardly an essay of his but contains some
such winged insect with the head indeed of harm-
less locust, but with the sting in its tail, with ulti-
mate torment to those that come nigh them, with
ultimate destruction to those that flee not from
hem.
EMERSON SOI
33-
Emerson was an optimist, and much of his
power over men he owes to this optimism of his ;
to this cube-like unupsettiblity of his at the sight
of the ills of men. But his was a most eupeptic
digestive apparatus; the aches of the heart, the
sorrows of the soul, the pains of the flesh —
he knew them not. Friends had not forsaken
him, malice had not o'ertaken him. It is easy
to be an optimist when one floats in the rotundity
of his own fat, when oysters give not the colic,
and mince pie gives not the nightmare. But the
universe takes on far other appearance to man
when the extra ounce of bread lies upon his breast
as a Kosmos upon the shoulders of Atlas; when
a lone cup of tea at eventide lengthens out
the wakeful night into another day. To be
an optimist then, it is no longer Emersonian
self-reliance that suffices here, but wholly un-
Emersonian. God-reliance.
34-
Thus it comes to pass that Emerson to do
battle with Christianity was obliged to furnish
his shafts with a beam; but the clumsiness of the
beam deflects the shaft downward, instead of for-
ward, and the weapon turned out of its way at
last falls ignominiously to the ground, piercing
nothing but the sand.
35-
The great vice of Emerson's teaching then,
his Self-Reliance on the one hand, and his
divinity of man on the other. But the human
heart is right prone to listen to this siren song of
the native divinity of man.
502 EMERSON
36.
The small man makes a God out of only one
man — himself ; the great man makes all men God :
the one is the small heathen, the other is the great
pagan. Now Emerson sails out as the great
pagan, but lands (and this in spite of himself)
with the small heathen: self -uplifted, self-cen-
tered. That he does not sink with Whitman to
the self -occupied he owes not to his philosophy, but
to the seven generations of the blood of the Lamb
flowing in his veins. Man is not God, not
even a god: he is a worm, and worse than a
worm ; the worm made to crawl has never attempt-
ed to strut; man being given eyes wherewith
to see God above him, puts them out; and then
professes to see Him even while only groping
after Him. The worm has never rebelled against
God, man has. In a world without a Christ
Emerson is a magnificent ladder; takes straight
up to the peak, only to find it ice-clad. And if
perchance the benumbed mountaineer bestirs
himself, and attempts to return, lo, the rungs have
disappeared; and what is left is an icy peak, two
parrallel poles, and a benumbed man . . . And that
the benumbed man, perishing thus on the peak,
is at last rescued is due solely to another ladder,
a Jacob's ladder, upon which angels descend and
ascend. For the Son of Man came to seek
and to save that which is lost, lost even on Emer-
sonian peaks.
37-
I need not know how kind-hearted a man
Emerson was: seven generations of honest gospel
blood cannot be drawn off all at once even in
EMERSON 503
transcendental pails, and his heart was wiser than
the philosophic infinitely repelling particle of his
own description. Men are always better than
their creed, though seldom as good as their
religion. But loving though Emerson surely was,
Emersonism has not been loving, any more than
Stoicism is loving, any more than any self-
sufficiency can be loving; and — Who loveth not
abideth in death. Singularly barren has been
Emerson's teaching. Where Tolstoy is an ox,
with narrow range, but patiently serving; where
Arnold is a swan, with equally limited range,
but gracefully floating; where Ruskin is a lion,
ranging wide, and Carlyle is a whale, diving deep,
Emerson is an eagle, soaring high. But beside
the thrashing whalishness of Carlyle Emerson
is a gentle dove. Yet whalish Carlyle leaves
behind him a Ruskin and Froude, the gentle
Emerson leaves behind him a handful of teles-
copic moons — eclipsed. The transcendental
movement — who is not reminded here of those
western roads which begin so magnificently as
boulevards, and end a few miles off as squirrel
tracks? It has even had its historian, but like
Roman civilization it was decayed before it was
ripe, and it has all been carted off into a kind of
ignominious valley of Hinnom; movement, asso-
ciation, satellites, historian, and all.
38.
All that is left of the commotion is Emerson
himself, a lone eagle on the bare crag. He
had hatched what were to be eaglets; and they
only proved ducklings, which took to the water
at the first opportunity, and there he is alone . .
504 EMERSON
And yet but for the divine veto, thou didst deserve
better things, thou and thy satellites, O Ralph
Waldo! for among them were of the salt of the
earth ; if only they had been boiled out from sea
water into the rock salt.
39-
With all his whalishness Carlyle was a hungry,
and therefore loving heart. Emerson could not
have written Past and Present, Fors Clavigera,
What to Do. Past and Present is not Carlyle,
it is the cry of the human heart through Carlyle.
Fors Clavigera is not Ruskin, it is the woe of
the human heart through Ruskin. What to Do
is not Tolstoy, it is the protest of the human
heart through Tolstoy. But the cry, the woe,
the protest, Emerson did not utter, could not
utter, because the woe was not in him at all, the
protest got no farther than his head, the cry went
not beyond his chamber. Emerson's home was
on Mount Olympus, but from that mount Zeus
came down only to seek a concubine ; from another
mount comes down another God to go to the cross
for those who spit in his face. This is Love,
and love is a gift directly from above, whereas
even genius may be loaned from beneath.
A man can indeed receive nothing except it
be given him from above. But "To thee will I
give all this authority and the glory of them,
for it hath been delivered unto me, and unto whom-
soever I will I give it." Love and Truth alone
have not been delivered unto Satan to give unto
men, for a liar is he, and a murderer from the
beginning. And that priceless gift of love is
withholden above all from the self-sufficient.
EMERSON 505
Man is sick, and a wise physician has been sent
unto him, but they that are whole need him
not. Carlyle, Ruskin, and Tolstoy were given
that love, because they had not barricaded them-
selves with a philosophy of Self -Reliance. Long-
suffering and patient is our God with the sons of
men. Seeing that they are but flesh, his Spirit
doth not strive with them for aye; and he wit-
nesseth the spitting upon even his well-beloved
son, without hurling down instant wrath. But the
one thing he will not pass over is the sight of
a worm of a man shaking as it were his red cloth
in the face of heaven, and shouting from on tip-
toe, I too am God! Isaiah, on the eve of his
embassage for King of kings, and Lord of lords,
is permitted a glimpse of the glory of God;
forthwith he cries: "Woe is me, I am undone, for
I am a man of unclean lips, and dwell in the midst
of an unclean people. ■ ' And thou, Ralph Waldo
art — really God? Job, of whom it is witnessed
by the Spirit that he was perfect, has too, like
Emerson, an experience, but only to cry out at
the end thereof: "I have heard of thee with the
hearing of mine ear; but now that mine eye seeth
thee, I am vile and repent in dust and ashes."
And thou, O Ralph Waldo, art really — God?
Daniel, the well-beloved in heaven, no sooner
doth he ope his mouth in prayer, than forthwith
is Gabriel caused to fly swiftly to bring cheer to
his troubled heart. The prayer of a righteous
man availeth much in its working. But this
Daniel, at whose prayers the very angels have to
fly, humbleth himself before his God for one and
twenty days; and the burden of this faultless
Daniel is: Lord, righteousness belongeth
506 EMERSON
unto thee, but unto us confusion of face." And
thou, O Ralph Waldo, art really — God? Lastly,
the well-beloved Son himself, when as mere man
he is addressed as Good Master, giveth answer:
"Call no man good: One is good, God." And
thou, O Ralph Waldo, art verily Go(o)d? Not
so; far other is the language of the truly godly
soul: "I am poor and needy, I am a worm, and
not a man." The soul that spake thus had
tasted God, and shall we, wormlings that we are,
speak otherwise in the presence of God?
40.
Channing's Dignity of Man has in Emerson
become the Divinity of Man, and with all such
the Lord God, who is a jealous God, hath a
stern controversy. And instant was his judg-
ment. Thou shalt have the gift of Midas, and
whatsoever thou touchest shall turn into gold,
but bread O, Ralph Waldo, it shall in nowise
be.
41.
And out of his own mouth was he judged, this
son of earth. In a deeper sense than meant by
himself he was to remain for aye and infinitely
repelling particle. The pagan imagination could
devise no severer affliction than Prometheus at
his rock and Sisyphus with his stone. Emerson,
falling into the hands of Christian's God,
was graciously allowed only to journey in a
parabolic curve; ever approaching God, never
reaching him.
II
TOLSTOY.
By the banks of the River Nyeman, which
divides Russia from Germany, man stands
forth like an imperial eagle; the body is indeed
single, but the head is double; and of these two
heads one is turned toward the West whither
hath been flowing for ages the sinking wisdom of
the past; the other is turned toward the East,
whither is bound to flow the rising wisdom of
the future. Accordingly, where Germany hath
hitherto travelled to England, and Italy to
France, and these in their turn across the Atlantic,
Russia has turned Eastward, to Asia; not to
pause in its journey onward until it hath met
once more the parted stream across the Pacific.
The River Nyeman is thus a kind of modern
Peleg, of whom we are told that in his days was
the earth divided; and at the extreme ends of
modern civilization thus stand its two youngest
political powers : Russia at the one end, America
at the other; the one a head without a body; the
other a body without a head; where the one
is a head of gold with feet of clay, the other
is feet of gold with head of clay. Russia is thus
the strongest type of autocracy, America the
strongest type of democracy; and the two
countries are thus each at the end of the one
chain of mankind; but while America began in
the spirit and ended in the flesh — while the
33
508 TOLSTOY
flower of American civilization which began in
the ever God-acknowledging puritanism, is self-
reliant, man-uplifted, Christ-denying Ralph
Waldo Emerson — Russia, which began in the
flesh, is like to end in the spirit, and the flower
of its civilization, which begins with the heaven-
defying French encyclopaedists, ends in Leo
Tolstoy, who, while beginning indeed likewise with
dethroning the Father, ends with something only
short of abasing himself before the Son.
2
Emerson and Tolstoy are thus the two extreme
peaks in the mountain-chain of mankind, while
between them rise as connecting range, Carlyle,
Ruskin, and Arnold; and as such peaks they
overlook not only America and Russia, but also
whatsoever lieth between. Just as Emerson is
more than an American, so is Tolstoy more than
a Russian. Carlyle indeed is also not wholly
British; Ruskin indeed is also not wholly English;
and Arnold indeed is also not wholly insular.
Carlyle besides being a Britisher, has indeed
much of the German in him; Ruskin besides
being an Englishman, has indeed much of the
Italian in him; and Arnold besides being an
islander, has indeed much of the Frenchman in
him. But from the Germans Carlyle has taken
chiefly only his elephantine clumsiness, his
sauerkraut heaviness; from the Frenchman
Arnold has taken mostly only the brilliant
sparkle of his wine; while from the Italian
Ruskin takes often indeed his sunniness, but he
takes also along with it the fine hand of the
Italian with the Italian's cold steel therein.
None of these, however, are yet wholly cosmo-
TOLSTOY 509
politan. Emerson and Tolstoy, are alone of the
five men before us truly cosmopolitan; and as
Emerson is the fruit not only of many climes
but also of many ages, so is Tolstoy the voice
not only of many lands but also of many cen-
turies. But while the chief characteristic of the
most cosmopolitan of Americans is that he is
Yankee of Yankees, it is the chief characteristic
of this most Russian of Russians that he is most
cosmopolitan of cosmopolitans.
3-
For the first characteristic of the Russian is:
that where the German is first of all a German
man, and the Englishman an English man;
where the Frenchman is first of all a French man,
and the American an American man; where,
with these, in short, geography is first and man-
kind last, and duties are determined more by
the map than by the commandment of God, the
Russian is first of all a man, and a Russian only
afterwards; with him mankind is first and
geography last; his text-book of duties is made
up more of equity and rectitude, than from longi-
tude and latitude. Hence Russia, though it hath
indeed a right rich literature, hath as yet no
national literature ; though it hath a right trans-
latable literature, it hath as yet no original
literature. Hence, where an Englishman learns
a foreign tongue chiefly in order the better to
travel; where a German studies a foreign tongue
chiefly in order the better to understand com-
parative grammar; where an American learns a
foreign tongue, if not indeed always the better
to sell his locomotives and pills, at least the better
5IO TOLSTOY
to translate the latest foreign sensation; the
Russian — such is his native sympathy with man
that the acquisition of foreign tongues is to him
almost a kind of natural gift. Where the feud
betwixt Englishman and Irishman has been
carried on for decades; where the bitterness
betwixt German and Frenchman has been
fomented for centuries; the Russian, even though
he has warred for years against the Pole, the
Swede, or the Tartar, has no ill-will toward these.
Whatever sorrows the numerous foreign nation-
alities had to endure on Russian soil have ever
been due to the hands of the government, never
to the hearts of the people. Accordingly, where
in Germany and France the Jew is despised
because of his race; where in America the negro
is shunned because of his color, and the Irishman
is patronized only because of his vote ; in Russia
the only one that reminds Alexander Pushkin
of his negro blood is the poet himself; and the
only man that reminds Obrutshef of his Irish
descent is the general himself; and if, perchance,
the Russian takes at last to the mobbing of the
Jews, it is not as in Europe because of their race;
it is rather because he is incited thereto by their
usury-bled victims on the one hand, and by
priestly or revolutionary zealots on the other.
Accordingly, where the Frenchman studies the
religion of Christ to find therein a basis for a new
system of society; where the German studies
the religion of Christ to find therein a basis for
a new system of metaphysics ; where the English-
man studies the religion of Christ to find therein
the basis for a new system of theology; lastly,
where the American studies the religion of Christ
TOLSTOY 51I
to find therein the basis for a new denomination;
Tolstoy, the Russian, studies the religion of Christ
first of all to find therein a basis on which to live
the better himself, from which the better to help
his fellow man. Accordingly, where Emerson's
remedy for the ills of men is self-reliance ; where
Carlyle's remedy for the ills of men is occupation
in self-drowning work; where Arnold's remedy
for the ills of men is culture; where Ruskin's
remedy for the ills of men is reorganization of the
machinery of life — all these, however, providing
no further than for the comfort of self; Tolstoy's
remedy for the ills of men is not that which hath
its centre in self, but rather that love of his kind,
which ever hath its centre in aught beyond self.
4-
And as Tolstoy's first characteristic is thus his
Russian universality, so his second characteristic
is no less Russian. For Tolstoy's is that Russian
intensity, which as it fears nothing, also yields to
nothing, and likewise shrinks from nothing; for
the Russian is nothing if not intense. When he
loves, he loves with all his heart; when he adores,
he adores with all his soul; when he submits,
he submits with all his being; when he rebels,
he rebels with all his force. Now Christianity
expects from its followers their utmost devo-
tion; Christ exacts from His disciples their
intensest trust. He, too, like Shylock, exacts
from His follower the pound of flesh even to the
thousandth part of an ounce, and He will be put
off with nothing short of total self -surrender.
Father, mother, brother, sister, houses, wives,
lands, are to be laid on the altar of their Lord
512 TOLSTOY
as relentlessly as Isaac was laid at the hands of
his father. All these are to be as naught when
compared with the devotion of Christian unto
his Master. "If any would follow after me let
him deny himself, and take up his cross daily
and follow me," is the condition of discipleship
from the lips of the Master Himself. " Think
not," He says, " that I came to bring peace on
earth. I came not to bring peace, but a sword;
for I came to set a man at variance against his
father, and the daughter against her mother,
and the daughter-in-law against her mother-in-
law; and a man's foes shall be they of his own
household. Who loveth father or mother more
than me is not worthy of me; and who loveth
son or daughter more than me is not worthy of
me; and who doth not take his cross and follow
after me is not worthy of me." Accordingly when
a Russian of Russians like Tolstoy finds in the
words of Christ the words of life — -where the
German pauses to investigate whether they be
of Christ, where the American pauses to consider
whether they be practical — Tolstoy pauses for
nothing ; he lays hold of them with the passion-
ateness of a mother for her babe, with the devo-
tion of a lover for his maiden, with the tenderness
of a father for his absent child. He contends
therefor with the zeal of a partisan during a
campaign; he clings thereto with the pertinacity
of a politician to his office. Of obstacles there is
indeed abundance enough here for this man
Tolstoy; but lions in the the way, serpents in
the path, mountains in the road, they are naught
to him. The lions he is ready to pass by as if
they were chained, the serpent he is ready to
TOLSTOY 513
pass over as if it were fangless, the mountain he
is ready to pass through as if it were about to
be sunk in the sea. And great as the outward
difficulties be, the inward hindrances are in no
wise few. His dame of a wife is indeed in the
new life but little of a help-mate, rather much
of a hinder-mate. Of the fruit of his loins all
indeed honor the mother, not all honor the father.
Youth hath fled, middle age is gone; gray his
hair, lone his path; his friends few, the mockers
many. Yet, he goeth onward, this man Tolstoy,
on his chosen path, with the heart of a lion,
with his face as of flint. Such is the intensity
of this man Tolstoy!
5-
Out of this hurricane-like intensity springs
Tolstoy's third Russian characteristic, his relent-
less consistency. When the Emperor Nicholas
I. learned that the location for the railroad be-
tween St. Petersburg and Moscow was being
influenced by bribes, he took a ruler, drew there-
with a straight line between the two capitals of
his empire, and said to his Minister of Public
Works: •< I wish the road to be built so." And
the road was built so, even though large cities
be left miles from the road. The railroad between
St. Petersburg and Moscow is thus a monument
of Russian consistency as well as of Russian
method. And of such consistency Tolstoy is the
most fearless exponent. Thus, William Lloyd
Garrison and Ralph Waldo Emerson in America,
and John Ruskin in England, have each, in their
warfare with the darkness and confusion about
them, had to contend with some of the very
difficulties with which Tolstoy has to contend.
514 TOLSTOY
Thus Garrison was like Tolstoy, also a non-
resistant. Emerson was like Tolstoy, also a
determined foe of all manner of conformities to
a dead past. And Ruskin like Tolstoy, also thinks
the taking of interest upon loans a right deadly
sin. But with all his non-resistance Garrison
could still applaud a John Brown; with all his
denial of the cross, Emerson can still attend
church, and bow his head at prayers in the name
of Jesus; with all his stern words against interest,
Ruskin can still draw with ease his five per cent.
Garrison doeth indeed violence to his convictions
right impulsively; Emerson doeth violence to his
convictions right thoughtfully, and Ruskin doeth
violence to his convictions right conscientiously.
All, however, do here violence to themselves ;
all are here equally inconsistent; all here, instead
of remaining single-eyed, become double-eyed.
Not so Tolstoy. Once he beholdeth what is to
him the truth, and he swerveth neither to the
right, nor to the left; though scorners scorn,
and mockers mock; though friends forsake, and
foes attack. America's right popular novelist
comes, like Tolstoy, also to the conclusion that for
him at least writing dollarish novels is no longer
fit occupation; but American novelist, like Moses
of old, looketh about first to the right, and then
to the left; he putteth his ear to the ground,
and lo, from across the Indiana prairie he heareth
from the Lilliputian's lips, as he standeth on
tiptoe, vociferously clamor to this Gulliver-
Tolstoy, Crank, crank! and forthwith American
novelist writes more distasteful novels, and
cashes more distasteful checks. Tolstoy also
heareth Lilliputian's voicelet with its Crank!
"
TOLSTOY SIS
rank! but still he changes coat for blouse, still
he changes shoes for basket work, still he changes
novelistic pen for shoemaker's bodkin.
6.
Accordingly, though, as we shall presently see,
it is impossible to commend Tolstoy's doings as
a whole, this intensity, this consistency forms
Tolstoy's great strength before men. For while,
indeed, the strict obedience unto the Sermon on
the Mount, which is so central to Tolstoy, is no
more the true centre of Christian's life than the
Capitol at Washington or the Stock Exchange of
New York is the true centre of American life,
men are now feeling the great need of such obe-
dience in their hearts, however little they be ready
to practice it in their lives. For never has there
been such wide departure of practice from pro-
fession as now ; never has the Bible been so much
studied and so little followed as now; never has
the Lord Christ been so highly revered and so
little obeyed as now. Christianity has become a
kind of lusty babe buried by officious nurses in
a mass of swaddling clothes; and what is heard
now is no longer the gentle cooing of the playful
child, but rather the scream of the agonized babe.
Christianity is now a diamond that, in the hands
of the miserable artists has been cut and cut
so much, that all that is left thereof is the lustre
projected on the stereopticon screen, while the
diamond itself has been frittered away in constant
filings. Christianity has become a ladder unto
heaven from which the rungs have been taken
out, and all that is left are the two side-poles,
with which men are left to vault themselves
5l6 TOLSTOY
heavenward as best they may. The Lord Christ
is, in fact, faring in the Christian world as Tolstoy
himself is now faring in his own native land.
The Emperor asks indeed his advice, and kisses
him on the one cheek; the censor suppresses
his books and thus smites him on the other.
The Sermon on the Mount has become in the
hands of Christendom a kind of Dudleian lecture
at Harvard. The foundation of the lectureship
is indeed welcomed, and its fee right gladly
accepted, but the founder's will is not only most
quietly ignored, it is even most blandly disobeyed.
7-
Dante tells of a strange encounter between a
certain man and a serpent. For a time the
enmity is right intense, and the foes stand
glaring at each other. All at once a cloud sur-
rounds them, and then a marvellous change takes
place; each becomes transfigured into the like-
ness of the other. The tail of the serpent divides
into two legs, the legs of the man intertwine
into a tail; the body of the serpent puts forth
arms, the arms of the man shrink into his body.
At length, the serpent stands up and speaks, the
man sinks down a serpent, and glides hissing
away. Some such transformation hath taken
place in the relation of Christianity and the
world. Instead of gazing fixedly into the face
of the Master, and becoming thus transformed
into His likeness from glory unto glory, Christen-
dom has been gazing steadfastly upon the prince
of this world, becoming thus transformed into
his likeness from shame unto shame. The church
has not succeeded in reforming the world, the
TOLSTOY 517
world has succeeded in deforming the church;
the church has failed in raising the world to itself,
the world has succeeded in dragging down the
church to itself; the church has but little purified
the world ; the world has much tainted the church.
The church in its relation to the world has fared
almost like the sole missionary sent by the
Socinians to the Hindus. He sets out to convert
the Hindus; he returns a converted Hindu
himself.
In so far, therefore, that Tolstoy is a protester
against Christendom's crying sin of calling unto
Christ, " Lord! Lord! " without doing His com-
mandments, Tolstoy stands on right firm ground.
He is not yet here indeed a life-saving boat
approaching the drowning, but he is at least
here a beacon light warning the mariner against
the threatening danger. In so far, therefore,
that Tolstoy right vociferously clamors for stern
obedience to the word of Christ, for strict sub-
mission to the authority of Christ, he is more
Christian than Christendom, he is more a child
of light than the opponents of the ruler of dark-
ness by profession, he is a more faithful inhabitant
of the kingdom of heaven, though not even
naturalized therein, than many a child of the
kingdom which claimeth the right of one born
therein.
9-
Out of this thorough-going consistency of Tol-
stoy, which makes his protest so effectual before
men in their disobedience of Christ, springs the
fourth characteristic of Tolstoy as a religious
Sl8 TOLSTOY
writer, his simplicity of method with which he
is enabled to do battle against the falsities of
modern life — a simplicity so stern in all its sincerity
as to enable him to do away with even all the
arts of the writer, with all the graces of style.
Where before as the writer of fiction he had been
artist of artists, when he becomes a writer for
truth he fares like an American President at the
expiration of his term. As such a one is hence-
forth no longer President, but only an ex-Presi-
dent, so Tolstoy as a religious writer is no longer
the artist, but only the ex-artist. Accordingly,
though in his criticism of modern life he is as
relentless as Carlyle, though in his exposition of
modern self-deception he is as merciless as
Ruskin, though in his warfare against modern
self-satisfaction he is as persistent as Arnold,
he brings to his task none of Carlyle's piquancy
of scorn, none of Ruskin's eloquence of sorrow,
none of Arnold's vivacious playfulness. While
these bring to their warfare a right goodly supply
of all manner of literary ammunition and baggage,
Tolstoy comes to the fray wholly unarmed.
Where these are Goliaths, with helmets of brass
and coats of mail, with greaves upon their legs
and javelins upon their shoulders, Tolstoy is a
kind of David, who approaches his adversary
with only sling in hand and pebbles in his bag.
Where Carlyle lays bare the modern much dis-
guised rottenness with right volcanoish pictur-
esqueness, Tolstoy does it with the dryness of the
surgeon, with the coldness of the bare steel.
Where Ruskin brings to his task a pathetic
humor which draws indeed the twinkle into one
eye, but the tear into the other, Tolstoy, like
TOLSTOY 519
a soldier on parade, remains sober and stiff
throughout. Where Arnold stabs modern society
with all the elegance of the French duelist — who
first shakes his antagonist's hand, and then
apologizes for the necessity of having to smite
him under the fifth rib, Tolstoy brings with
him the matter-of-fact way of the Yankee duelist,
who, being unable to handle either pistol or
sword, offers his antagonist instead two pills,
of which one is harmless and the other a deadly
poison; but, though his logic is as cold as a
Supreme Court decision, and his style as bald
as a statistical table, such is the native purity
of his zeal that it mocks adornment; such the
native power of his thought, that it can spare
the literary paraphernalia. What he lacks here
in art he makes up with his life; what he lacks
here in grace he makes up with his truth.
10.
Out of this simplicity of Tolstoy springs his
last Russian characteristic, his childlikeness.
For, however great the intensity of the Russian,
his is not so much the disciplined, tempered
intensity; his is rather the undisciplined, child-
like intensity. For while the intensity of the
Western people has been tempered by the ages,
the Russian's is untutored, untempered, inex-
perienced intensity. Accordingly, when Peter
the Great starts out to reform his subjects it
must be done in a day, and when the Revolution-
ists undertake to free their country from despotic
rule, it must be dynamited into freedom in a
night. When Napoleon is to be defeated, sacred
mother Moscow is unhesitatingly given over to
520 TOLSTOY
the flames. When rebellions are to be crushed,
whole villages are to be given over to the mines.
Accordingly when Tolstoy beholds what is to
him new truth, Christian truth, he lays hold
thereof, indeed, with right Russian intensity;
but it is with immature intensity, with the inten-
sity of a child for its latest plaything. For where
the Frenchman loves Christian truth like a
mistress, ready to part with her at any moment
for another, where the Englishman loves Christian
truth like his wedded wife, ready to divorce her,
if need be, on rather stern occasion, where the
German loves Christian truth like his old grand-
mother, ever providing for her, though not always
living with her, while lastly the American loves
Christian truth as one loves a rich uncle, ever
expecting at some future a goodly income there-
from, the' Russian clings to Christian truth as
the child clings to his plaything; whether it be
gold, whether it be brass, it matters but little to
him, if only it give the longed-for joy, if only it
furnish the promised peace.
ii.
This childlikeness serves Tolstoy indeed in
excellent stead, as long as he remains a mere
protester against the disobedience of Christen-
dom, as long as he remains a faithful witness
to the blessings that come from obedience unto
Christ. But the half -grown child undertakes the
work of a man ; the feeder on milk undertakes to
be the dispenser of meat ; he that had just begun
to sit at the Master's feet undertakes to become
a teacher in Israel. Accordingly he meets with
TOLSTOY 52 1
the doom appointed unto all such; and when he
becomes an expounder of Christianity, when, like
Uzzah of old, he undertakes to steady with un-
hallowed hand the ark of God, he loses nearly
all the virtues of childhood, he acquires nearly
all the vices of childishness. The child with
man's hat over its eyes, and man's boots over its
feet, can only shuffle and stumble and fall; the
uninvited steadier of the ark can only be smitten
with speedy death. Accordingly when he ceases
to be a critic and becomes a preacher, when he
ceases to be a witness and becomes a teacher,
Tolstoy can be as meaningless as an explanation by
Herbert Spencer, as confused as a metaphor by
Longfellow, as obscure as a definition by Mill;
he can become as involved as an oration by
Choate, he can become as dry as a botany text-
book. The German rationalists, for instance,
as well as Matthew Arnold, have also endeavored
right earnestly to dispose of the New Testament
histories in a manner reconcilable with their
own hungry imaginings, much as the wolf likes
to dispose of the lamb, much as the fox likes to
dispose of the chicken; but these do so at least
with some pretence to biblical scholarship; these
do so at least with some regard to plain cyclo-
paedia facts. Tolstoy, however, with a simplicity
that is indeed childlike, but with self-confidence
that is hardly other than childish vaults over
the New Testament facts as a gymnast over a
fence in his way, and dismisses the ordinary
cyclopaedia data with the unconcern of a Tam-
many chief over public opinion, or of the evo-
lutionist over the persistent absence of the much
desired missing link. Learning and research,
52 2 TOLSTOY
exactness and care, he casts it all off as a cumber-
some load like to impede his onward commenta-
torial march. In his fear of becoming entangled
in the jungle of the forest, he omits to note the
single trees; in his eagerness to escape the
blinding snow storm, he shuts his eyes even against
the single flakes. As in their eagerness to get
to the front, our late warriors in Cuba threw
away their blankets and rations only to find them-
selves shortly shivering and starving, so in his
childlike eagerness to get at what is to him the
meat of Christ, the core of Christianity, Tolstoy
casts away all that was meant to clothe him,
all that was meant to feed him. With his con-
tempt for dogmatics and homiletics, of liturgies
and hermeneutics and apologetics, he casts away,
also, the plain historical facts of Christianity,
the simple truth about Christ. Accordingly,
what Christian science is to true religion, what
friend Jasper's theories are to astronomy, what
friend Kipling's verses are to poetry, what our
dollarish novels are to literature, that is Tolstoy
to historic Christianity.
12.
Like all the wise and prudent of this age, for
instance, concerning whom it hath been decreed
that the wisdom of God, as revealed in the cross
of Christ, shall remain foolishness unto them,
Tolstoy also rejects the miraculous birth of the
Lord, His signs and wonders, His rising from the
dead. In common with the wise of this age,
Tolstoy also casts away the depravity of man and
his need of being born anew; he casts away the
judgment of the wicked and the reward of the
TOLSTOY 523
righteous, the great and terrible day of the Lord,
and the wrath to come from which men are warned
to flee. In common with the wise and the prudent
of this age, Tolstoy, also, finds himself in no
need of a Saviour that shed His blood for him.
He rejects, in short, with all the wise men of the
West, all that is truly essential to a right knowl-
edge of God, all that is truly essential to a right
steadfast hope for man. But while the wise men
of the West reject all these things at least with
some show of reason, Tolstoy does not deem it
needful to hold to even what little is left of
reason in modern unreasonableness. He tells
us, for example, that Jesus taught that " all
men have a common impulse toward good and
toward reason," as if He had never said to some
folk: " If God were your father, ye would love
me. Ye are of your father, the devil, and the
lusts of your father it is your will to do." Tolstoy
affirms with right firm confidence that Jesus
" called all men sons of God," as if Christ had
never uttered the sentence: "And this is the
judgment that light is come into the world, and
men loved darkness rather than light." As the
adventurous counts and princes who seek their
fortune in foreign lands boast of their fictitious
titles as if no Gotha Almanachs were at hand
wherewith to test their lordly pretensions, so
Tolstoy puts sayings into the mouth of Jesus
as if no New Testament were at hand to show
that the words of Christ are far other than these.
Not only, says he for example, did not Jesus rise
from the dead, He never said even a serious
word about His rising from the dead. And if
learned Christian folk, scientific Christian folk,
34
524 TOLSTOY
are here totally at fault it is because they fail
to read a little Greek aright under scholarly
Tolstoy's instruction. The New Testament
signs and wonders fare a like fate at his hands.
He is confident that the New Testament, if but
rightly understood, tells of no signs, tells of no
wonders; that its withered arms, if arms at all,
are certainly not withered; that its lame feet, if
feet at all, are certainly not lame; that its blind
eyes, if eyes at all, are certainly not blind. And
that all that is needful here to see aright, accord-
ing to Tolstoy, all that is needful here to decide
betwixt the plain sense of nineteen centuries
and these new though ever old imaginings of
this latest of commentators, is a new edition
of Professor Goodwin's " Greek Moods and
Tenses," duly annotated at Tolstoy's country
home at Yasnaya Poly ana.
The difficulty of dealing with such criticism
of Christianity is not so much the strength of
the exposition; there is no strength here. It is
rather the difficulty of becoming childish one's
self in order to meet such juvenile method of
criticism. The best reply to inappropriate wit
is not so much wit as sobriety; the best reply
to inappropriate sobriety is not so much sobriety
as wit. But childishness cannot always be met
by manliness. It is difficult to discuss the calculus
with one who has not yet mastered the multi-
plication table. For catching a mosquito even the
lion is weak; for knocking down a straw even a
giant may strike in vain.
TOLSTOY 525
14.
And yet, even with all his childish treatment
of Christianity, Tolstoy has succeeded in getting
a peace therefrom he had not hitherto known.
Tolstoy has succeeded in getting a joy therefrom
he had not hitherto tasted. Hitherto he had for
some fifteen years of his mortal life gone about
with despair in his heart, with thought of self-
murder in his mind. All at once he gets
even a distant glimpse of the truth as it is in
Jesus, and lo! he is henceforth a changed man.
Not only hath the hitherto loathed existence
new meaning for him, he cannot even rest until
he hath pointed others unto this newly found
way. Accordingly, when one first approaches
Tolstoy it is with the feeling of dim-eyed Isaac
towards the disguised Jacob. The hands and
the neck have, indeed, the required hairiness;
and though the voice is rather puzzling, sup-
planting Jacob at last carrieth off the blessing;
but this is not so much because of Jacob's truth,
but rather because of Isaac's eagerness to bestow
the blessing. Accordingly, the peace and joy
of Tolstoy are due not so much to the fact that
he has at last laid hold of the Truth, but rather
because he hath gotten even a glimpse of the
Truth. For it is the glory of Christianity that
whoso setteth himself faithfully to abide by the
words of the Master, however few these be, is
ever rewarded with a peace he knows not before,
is ever rewarded with a joy he finds not elsewhere.
The witness of Tolstoy herein is abidingly true,
the witness of the Quakers is here unimpeachably
firm. But all this not because the Sermon on
the Mount is all that is to be learned from Christ,
526 TOLSTOY
not because all that is to be done is to be a servant
of Christ, but rather because such is the heavenly
riches of the Son of God that whoso toucheth if
but the hem of His garment, getteth away there-
from in no wise empty-handed, departeth from
Him in no wise unblest. But outward obedience
to a few of the precepts of Christ is not yet
Christianity, outward submission even to the
authority of Christ, is not yet faith in the blood
of Christ.
IS-
Accordingly, like the young ruler in the gospels,
Tolstoy is, indeed, not far from the kingdom of
God, but he is not yet in the kingdom of God.
To him, also, must be said, as it has been said
unto the youth of old, One thing thou lackest
yet. He has come just near the Sun of Righteous-
ness to feel His rays, but he has not come near
enough to be swallowed up in Him — which alone
it is that giveth the Truth. Tolstoy is a comet;
had just got near enough to the great orb, only
to start off again for the depths beyond. He has
accepted the Master as his teacher; this is a
deliverance. He has not accepted Him as his
Saviour, and thus misses the deliverance. Hence,
though Tolstoy uses the words of Christ, he is
deprived of the fruits of Christ. His is the
position of the chemist, who knoweth, indeed,
how to change diamond into carbon, but can
in no wise turn the carbon into the diamond.
Like that ingenious Jerseyman he can change
the corn meal, water, and lime into eggs that
deceive even the gourmand, but as they have
no life in them they do not hatch. Follow Christ,
obey Christ, imitate Christ, these words are,
TOLSTOY 527
indeed, better than naught, but for opening the
gates of heaven they are as yet of no avail.
" Open Wheat, open Barley," cries Cassin in
the Arabian tale; but the doors open not to
Open Wheat, open Barley, but only to Open
Sesame. Even thus, imitate Christ, obey Christ,
might make, indeed, better men; but to make
out of the children of men sons of God, for this,
trust in the blood of Christ is the only Sesame that
opens the enchanted door. The acceptance of
Christ as teacher is thus to the acceptance of
Christ as Lord, what ordinary rose water is to
the attar of roses: where the one is but a diluted
mixture, the other is the packed essence.
16.
The great error of Tolstoy is thus, first of all,
in supposing that all Jesus Christ came to do
was to make men happy, and, therefore, all that
is needful here for men is to obey the Sermon
on the Mount. But already, at the very outset,
Tolstoy betrays the weakness of his cause by
neglecting the words of Christ in the very dis-
course he so highly exalts before men. For in
that same Sermon on the Mount from which
he chooses only five commandments to obey,
there is another, a sixth, which begins : " When ye
therefore pray, say, our Father which art in
heaven, hallowed be Thy Name." Concerning
this commandment which places the seeking of
the glory due unto His Name, even before the
request for daily bread, Tolstoy is silent. The
worship of God, which, in the estimation of
Jesus, is after all the chief end of man — for this,
Tolstoy has no place in his scheme of life. But
528 TOLSTOY
the Son of man came not so much to make
happy men out of unhappy men, but rather to
make God-like men out of brute-like men. The
Son of man came not so much to assign potato-
patches to the poor and vineyards to the needy,
as to make children of light out of children of
darkness, to make into sons of God those who
are servants of Satan.
17.
Accordingly, the inevitable result of such a
partial view of the Prince of Life is that life
itself becomes to Tolstoy something almost
petty; his remedies for the ills of life become
something almost quacklike. Niagara is set to
the turning of children's play wheels, the volcano
is used to roast eggs with, the great writer becomes
a dispenser of panaceas. To his talk on non-
resistance and non-divorce is shortly added talk
on having a wife for only one day in the year;
and his folk tales on love become supplemented
by a Kreuzer Sonata. He thus takes his place
beside those well-meaning folk who see in the
abstinence from salt and featherbeds a sure
remedy for the ills of private life, who see in the
single tax a sure remedy for the ills of national
life.
18.
The error of Tolstoy, however, has likewise
become the error of much that is otherwise truly
well-meaning in Christendom. Peace upon earth
and good-will among men — upon these words
men linger in these days right tenderly, as if
happiness, contentment, were all men need to
strive for. And yet, even if all men were to
TOLSTOY 529
become Tolstoys, even if all men were to become
Socialists or Quakers, even if all the poor were to
become willing disciples in the hands of their
Associated Charity visiting friends, they would
perhaps attain, indeed, unto peace at last; but
it would be a peace no higher in its kind than
the peace of the mire-loving sun-basking, four-
footed thing as it grunteth right universal good-
will toward pigdom because of abundance of
wash in the trough. " The swine! " exclaimed a
colored philosopher, as he sighed with our modern
reformers for happiness, " the swine need not
work for a living, the swine comes and goes when
it pleases, the swine has its food brought to its
trough, the swine is a — gentleman! " The error
that after some sixty centuries of struggle for
existence, progress of species, and survival of
the fittest, men are at last to arrive where pigdom
already is without struggle for existence, evolu-
tion of species, and march of ages — this is what
forms the tragedy of the Socialisms, Peace
Unions, Associated Charities, Single Taxes, and
the numerous other unions of zeroes that clamor
so loudly for adoption, that hope so pathetically
for the predicted results that never arrive.
19.
And these results, so patiently waited for, so
lovingly toiled for, never can arrive, because
the ailment of man is not so much in his wrong
relation toward man, but rather in his wrong
relation toward God; and all attempts to help
men for other than a brief time without first
helping them to God, is merely to re-enact the fate
of Sisyphus of old. No sooner does he, after
53° TOLSTOY
much toil, roll his stone to the top of the hill,
then down it comes again, and the weary task
has to be begun anew.
20.
Now it is the glory of Christ that He alone in
all history offers unto men, first of all, to reconcile
them unto God. It is the glory of Christianity
that it alone of all religions promises unto men
first of all that life which is life indeed. Thus
Emerson, Carlyle, Ruskin, Arnold and Tolstoy
all sadly confess with Christianity that man is
lame; but where Emerson offers stilts, and
Carlyle offers crutches; where Ruskin offers a
wheeling chair and Arnold offers heeled shoes;
lastly where Tolstoy offers his own back even,
whereon to carry the lame, Christianity offers a
new pair of feet. Where modern reformers are
right busy with helping the fevered with quinine,
Christianity offers no quinine; it furnishes that
in its stead which makes fevers impossible,
quinine needless, namely, cleansed blood. Modern
reform finds that the human tiger hath claws
and teeth; that the human adder hath fangs;
that the human wasp hath a sting; and being
charitably inclined it forthwith sets about to
unclaw the tiger, to unfang the adder, to unsting
the wasp. But the clawless tiger is still a rave-
nous beast; the fangless adder is still the hissing
serpent; the stingless asp is still the annoying
fly. Not so Christianity: Christianity takes the
boar out and puts the lamb in; so that the lion
eateth straw like the ox, and the wolf and the
lamb lie down together.
TOLSTOY 531
121.
Accordingly, though Christian looketh also
with the sighing reformers for new heavens and
a new earth, though he also looketh for a time
when sorrow and pain shall be no more and tears
shall be wiped out of every eye, and sickness and
death shall be no more, he looketh for these to
be brought about not by the well meaning effort
of sinful man, but rather by the revelation from
the heavens of the sinless Son of God. Christian
also looketh for that day when men shall not
labor in vain, nor bring forth trouble; when
they shall not build and another inhabit; when
they shall not plant and another eat. Christian
also looketh for that day when the eyes of the
blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf
shall be unstopped; when the lame man shall
leap as a hart, and the tongue of the dumb shall
sing. But this will not come to pass until men
cease from trusting in the arm of flesh, and cast
away their own doings; until men turn their
eyes heavenward, and cry, " Oh, that Thou
wouldst rend the heavens, that Thou wouldst
come down, that the mountains might flow at
Thy presence." When men have at last taken
their eyes off themselves, and have turned them
unto Him, who hath said: " Look unto me, ye
ends of the earth, and be ye saved," then, but
not till then shall it come to pass that men shall
say: " Lo, this is our God, we have waited for
Him, and He it is that will save us." When the
law goeth forth from Zion, and the word of the
Lord from Jerusalem, then, but not until then,
shall they beat their swords into ploughshares
and their spears into pruninghooks ; then,
532 TOLSTOY
indeed, shall nation not lift up sword against
nation, neither shall they learn war any more.
But ere the Judge of the quick and the dead
become unto men the Redeemer from Zion, they
must give heed unto the commandment: " Cease
ye from man, whose breath is in his nostrils, for
wherein is he to be accounted of ? "
I
TRIBULATIONS OF A B.I.
You will of course, dear reader, kindly excuse
me from explaining to you just what a B.I. is,
since I am still burdened with a goodly share of
t half Asiatic and one-quarter European modesty,
the remaining quarter being a mixture of various
other geographical ingredients. But if you care
to go to the office of the Associated Charities
on Chardon Street they will tell you that a
B.I. is a benevolent individual (they write, it,
however, in capitals) — a man with a good-sized
heart inside of him, and an at least fair-sized head
on top of him. I belong to that class, however,
by sheer courtesy, so to speak. For while about
the size of my heart there may be no doubt,
there is some dispute as to the necessary quali-
fication of my poor head. Be that as it may,
I have had but few of the joys of a B.I., but a
goodly number of his tribulations; and just now,
to tell truth, I need a little sympathy; so bear
kindly with this bid for fellowship on the part of
other B.I.'s.
On Saturday, May 12, I left Cleveland, at half
past three in the morning, to cross nearly the whole
of the state of Ohio, from north to south. I was
awake at least an hour earlier; already two days
before I had to leave Syracuse at an almost
equally early hour, having been on my way from
Worcester since Monday. I had spoken in Syra-
cuse thrice, in Cleveland once; had had hardly
534 TRIBULATIONS OF A B.I.
sufficient rest at night, had travelled some one
thousand miles, and here I was at last in a small
village in Southern Ohio at about one in the
afternoon, having had neither sleep since two in
the morning, nor food since seven Friday night.
2.
But I was a — B.L
And being a B.L, accordingly I found among
the letters awaiting me here the following :
Boston, May 8.
Dear Sir: —
Learning of you may I seek you as possible kind
means of assistance?
Not long ago my husband, a successful druggist and
chemist, lost his all financially by explosion in labor-
atory connected with his drugstore. Insurance com-
pany proved the explosion was the result of careless-
ness on part of husband's partner, and no insurance was
paid.
This sudden and complete loss of means of support
proved to be such sorrow as overthrew reason of my
good husband. He died a raving maniac. I have been
battling to become a successful wage-earner, seeking
to utilize my practical knowledge of French and German
as a teacher.
Suffice it to say not yet is success mine, and I am
"falling by the wayside" from sorrow and ill success.
Knowing of you as an author, it occurs to me that you
may have it within your power and in your heart to
suggest some means by which I may help self during
the summer until the season for teaching shall return.
That you may know a little of me, or rather of my an-
tecedents, may I mention that I am a niece of (a
celebrated American author now dead), whose name
may be familiar to you. In teaching I resume my
maiden name, as husband's death occasioned notoriety.
So long has been my struggle for legitimate support,
and so bitter my failure and present helplessness, that
any encouraging word from you or your wife would
infinitely relieve. sincerely, Mrs.
TRIBULATIONS OF A B.I. 535
3-
"Husband" without an article, and the "in-
finite relief of sincerely Mrs." rather staggered
my grammatical as well as rhetorical piece of
Paninity; but though my B.X.'s head was inclined
to shake, my heart did flutter a little; and I was
a mile and a half from a post-office with no im-
mediately available means of locomotion other
than my own pair of terminal facilities. I was
worn and tired. But this was Saturday. If I
wait even an hour the mail would go, and then,
good-by help for distressed dame, at least till
Monday, and this must in nowise be. Her letter
was dated May 8, and here it was already May 1 2 !
4-
Well, I sat down and wrote : Above all not to be
discouraged; that God is nearer folk than they
think; pointed her beside to a personal Christ if
she at all knew him ; and enclosed in addition some
unavoidable dollars which, though not directly
asked for, were here clearly a decided piece of
propriety. I had to confess, however, that I was
a sufferer from a singular case of heart disease,
for which there is as yet no known cure : namely, a
most melancholy disproportion between the size
of heart and — purse : the relation of the two being
essentially that of a pyramid's base and its top.
Heart is indeed broad enough to cover a goodly
number of square miles, but purse is ever a kind
of pointed thinness, with net result of attending
chronic emptiness, usually experienced only either
by a certain kind of dyspeptics, or by a certain
kind of — scribes, though in the latter case the
emptiness is more in the head than elsewhere.
536 TRIBULATIONS OF A B.I.
Having thus attended to the distressed dame
and walked to the post-office to mail the letter, I
returned to the lone farm to muse. I was indeed
to speak twice the next day, but that distressed
dame was once upon my mind, and I must have
her off therefrom ere aught else can be done. So I
wrote to one of Boston's brave dames to call on
her, enclosing her letter; asking at the same time
to do what she could. Wrote in addition to
another friend, with notes of introduction to two
Back-Bay folk before whom the distressing case
might be laid; lastly I suggested to Mrs. Panin
that perhaps an invitation to spend a week or more
in the country might be advisable to "Mrs in-
finitely relieve sincerely." In that household of
three (minus the absent traveller) two are indeed
invalids, and the absent head of the household is
indeed sorely missed because of his dishwashing
utilities when present; and an additional per-
sonage in that household would indeed be much
of a burden; still — it might be worth while to
think thereof; so this too was suggested.
6.
The case then stood thus: Within a few hours
from the receipt of her letter some unasked for
dollars were already on their way; at least three
well-to-do lovers of their kind were already writ-
ten to about her ; a fourth personage was requested
to look up both the woman and her record, while a
fifth was asked to consider the advisability of
giving her a country home for a brief period of
recuperation.
And now I could go on in peace with my work.
TRIBULATIONS OF A B.I. 537
7-
But alas ! peace on earth is not unstinted even to
poor B.I.'s, and my tribulations speedily began.
Sunday I was too busy to think about the poor
distressed dame. Monday I was rather tired.
Still both on that day and Tuesday I went to the
lone church on the hill and commended her to
God, fearing especially a case of suicide.
But on Wednesday my tribulations began in
earnest. My wag of a host whose laughing
capacity is somewhere in the neighborhood of a
ton to the square inch, to whom I mentioned the
case when seeking advice, suddenly asked me
that morning whether that woman might not after
all be a fraud. As he said this he was looking at
me through his glasses. I was looking at him
through no glasses, but I dare say my look was
glassy enough. But we here parted our ways:
he to his hammer and saw, and I to that hilltop
and its church.
From the church I went to the post office.
Four letters awaited me there. One from a direc-
tor of an astronomical observatory; the other
from * 'infinitely relieve sincerely Mrs:" the third
from Mrs. Panin, the fourth from Boston's brave
dame who spends most of her days in associated
charities. With my incurable heart disease
described above it was difficult to delay the read-
ing of the infinitely relief-needing dame's letter.
So I read it at once, and right glad did it make me.
For it read thuswise :
May God bless you for so kind encouraging helpful
words and acts. To be so eager to give me hope
538 TRIBULATIONS OP A B.I.
and relief, an entire stranger to you, as to write me when
you from travelling were so fatigued, is truly God -like.
You state that you have passed through all kind of
depths, and so understand my condition, yet you have
the strength to exhort me not to despair. I am begin-
ning to feel that my afflictions may be benedictions in
disguise. As a Unitarian I have not believed in
Christ as you do. It may be that my bitter ordeal is
to awaken me to the truth that Christ is divine, as help
has come to me in time of bitter need.
Infinitely grateful am I to you for your generous
offering so unexpected. I had heard that your wife
was interested in the study of French and German, and
that you had greatly interested yourself in a lady
conversant with these languages. Thank you heartily
for your thoughtfulness and interest. Trusting in
your wisdom from bitter suffering, believe me, please, I
shall seek by prayer for light that I may early see the
truth. Again thanking you for so prompt and heart-
felt a response, believe me most gratefully,
Mrs.
9-
All the way from the post-office to the farm-
house I kept thinking of this godsend of a letter.
How triumphantly I could now refute my wag of a
host with his doubting Thomas of a pair of glasses !
How I would brandish that letter in his face, and
tell him that it would have been worth hundreds
of dollars to have thus the privilege of turning the
look of that poor deluded Unitarian soul to a
crucified and bleeding Christ. I felt much like a
glass of freshly drawn soda water, and could have
effervesced skyward in visions of magnificent
Christian missionary work by means of one
thousand-mile travelling bits of epistolarities.
10.
I had in my triumphant joy almost forgotten
that the other letters were still unread. But not
TRIBULATIONS OF A B.I. 539
even the astronomical letter could chase away
the hydrogen-balloon feeling that kept me as if
I were screwed to a pair of corkish legs walking on
the water. And, dear reader, I was for a few
moments very, very happy.
ii.
Suddenly in an evil moment I espied that
fourth letter. It was from my hard-headed,
unromantic, practical, twenty-year manager in
the much-decried associated charities of Boston,
who though rich herself has the problematic habit
of looking twice at a penny spent by her in
charity, even though the amount reaches into
thousands of dollars a year.
The letter was prosy enough and rather dry
reading. But singularly enough it had the effect
of wetting me nearly all over. Here it is.
Mrs. — has been known for many years in district 8 of
the associated charities as Mrs. N. (another name than
that given me). Her husband died some years ago in
Sing Sing prison.
She has since lived with a man of more than doubtful
character; she has sometimes called herself by his name
but they have never pretended to people who really
know them that they were married.
About the time she wrote to you she wrote to Rev. —
(one of Boston's well-known B.I.'s) for money to go to
New York, so as to attend to the affairs of this man, who
she said was ready to commit suicide because of his busi-
ness troubles. I have an impression that the man told
our agent that he wishes no more to do with her, but I
am not sure.
She really is a relative of * * * and some of her rel-
atives have helped her through the associated charities.
Many efforts have been made to help her to a respec-
table life. Her begging letters are often sent to the
associated charities. Her story to you is a new one.
35
540 TRIBULATIONS OF A B. I.
12.
Dear reader, B.I. or otherwise, what with my
wag of a host, what with my prosy, hardheaded
correspondent, and the associated charities, whom
years ago, before my wisdom teeth were grown, I
used to belabor rather vigorously in public, I feel
decidedly crestfallen; and I too feel like ending
my letter with a request for sympathy that
"infinitely relieve sincerely" your crestfallen
fellow B.I.
x 3-
To "Infinitely Sincerely Mrs."
Madame: —
Since answering your letter asking for help I have
received three letters from you: one asking for a loan
of ten dollars, to be paid out for treatment of a physical
infirmity of yours. As I was then not sure of the
urgency of the case I was waiting in silence for further
developments. The second letter incidentally in-
formed me that you were "through God's mercy"
already receiving the treatment for which you asked
the loan. The third letter is, I am sorry to say, a rather
incoherent self-defence against the report of the
associated charities about you as seen by you from my
lettter to the Boston Newspaper.
Let me then tell you at once that I am still your
friend. The fact that you may be untruthful makes
you need God's love all the more, and whatever good
will I may have for you is only of course a reflection of
what love I know God has for you. So, pray, do not
feel troubled about any "bad opinion" I may have of
you. Only it is unfortunate that I simply cannot treat
you now with the same trust that I had about your case
before doubts were raised about you from the associ-
ated charities. Now that you tell me that you have
been misrepresented by them I will gladly for your sake
suspend my judgment, and will assume for a while that
there may be some misunderstanding about your case
on their part. I have indeed no reason to suppose
TRIBULATIONS OF A B.I. 541
that they are likely to leave much room for even mis-
understandings in their reports about individuals they
investigate. But if there be even one chance in a
thousand that for some cause their report has done you
injustice, I am willing to give you the benefit of that
one chance, and on the strength of that one chance
to suspend my judgment for a while. You sure-
ly must see that more than this it is impossible for me
to do just now.
It is unfortunate that your case needs investigation,
but since it does need it, will you not for a while bear
the burden bravely and cheerfully? If you are innocent
you surely need fear nothing; investigation will only
establish your innocence all the firmer. On the other
hand, if you are guilty of having tried to enlist my sym-
pathy by false statements, I can only say to you that
however black you might be, you would have lost
nothing and gained much, by being perfectly frank
with me about your past, its errors, and even sins.
For if in such case you are willing to mend your ways,
I would have gladly offered you what help there were
within my inextensive reach. And if you were not
willing, I would have told you plainly that neither man
nor angel can help one that is not willing to mend; and
this would have saved us both much trouble.
From a distance of a thousand miles it is difficult
to do anything in such a case. If you really care for
my "better opinion" of you, I will gladly call upon you
in all friendliness when I return to Boston (d. v.) and
cheerfully hear whatever you may have to state truth-
fully about your case. I hope that you will not be a-
fraid to tell me even the worst about yourself, if there
be anything bad, provided you are really desirous of put-
ting it away. I will listen not only without condemna-
tion, but even with sympathy. Only be perfectly frank
with me. If you are not frank it will come out sooner or
later, and this will of course, make all further inter-
course impossible.
I do not expect to be in Boston for some weeks. If
such suspense is a trial to you, you may write me if this
is any satisfaction to you.
II
TRIBULATIONS OF A STUDENT.
Having occasion to verify tlie statements of a
writer about eclipses I betook myself to Camille
Flammarion's chapter on Eclipses in his " Wonders
of the Heavens;" translated by Mrs. Norman
Lockyer. Of the scientific standing of the author,
and the translator's husband there is no need of
saying aught. It is of the highest. The attain-
ments of the translator herself, being the mate,
evidently the scientific mate, of Mr. Lockyer, are
presumably also high. So with great reverence I
turned to the fifth chapter of the fourth book,
with pencil in hand, to mark everything that is
worth remembering about eclipses.
The first statement that surprised me was this :
Eclipses ' 'return nearly in the same order at the
end of eighteen years and ten days, a period
known to the Greeks under the name of the
Metonic Cycle." Without being an astronomer
I happened to know that this eclipse period consist-
ed of 223 months, and was called the Saros,
whereas the Metonic Cycle consisted of 235
months and its length is not eighteen years and
eleven days, but some two hours over nine-
teen years. Ignorant folk naturally confound the
two periods; and it is for such that Denison
Olmstead, writing his Astronomical Letters as
far back as 1840, puts in this warning; "The
Metonic Cycle has sometimes been confounded
TRIBULATIONS OF A STUDENT 543
with the Saros, but it is not the same with it; nor
was the period used, like the Saros for foretelling
eclipses, but for ascertaining the age of the moon
at any given period. " (p . 1 9 2 ) .
Here then, is a distinction in an elementary
matter of astronomy with which an ordinarily
educated man is supposed to be familiar found
to be unknown to scientists like Flammarion and
Mrs. Norman Lockyer.
Well, after all, this might be a slip of the pen on
Mr. Flammarion's part, and a slip of the eye on
Mrs. Lockyer's part in overlooking it when trans-
lating the passage. So I paid but little attention
thereto, all the more as I had just marked with
intense eagerness the sentence immediately pre-
ceding. ! 'There cannot be less than two eclipses
a year and not more than seven. When there
are only two they are both eclipses of the Moon."
Here was something I clung to: when there are
only two they are both of the Moon. I had been
unacquainted with this fact about eclipses, that
there may be a year when no Solar eclipse can take
place. This fact I was eager to hold fast, because
it has a bearing upon the chronology of years
which have .been fixed by the record of eclipses
in ancient writers. Thankful over this important
fact, I was ready enough to be very charitable
about that Saros turning into a Metonic Cycle.
It happens however, that the article ! 'Astron-
omy" in the Encyclopedia Britannica is written
by an astronomer of equally high repute with
Flammarion, namely R. A. Proctor. The article,
which is really a treatise on Astronomy, has a
544 TRIBULATIONS OP A STUDENT
chapter, the nth, given to eclipses. It would, of
course, be unscholarly not to read this chapter
also, as long as I am in search of facts about eclip-
ses. Near the end of the chapter, Mr. Proctor
tells us, after giving a very elaborate account of
eclipse-seasons, "when there are only two, each
eclipse is solar and central."
As the writer — well I may as well go back to the
first person — as I always preached the scientific
method even when the question came up what to
do with a man who asked you for something to get
bread with, I was — well, to put it mildly, aston-
ished enough when I found these two astronomical
giants encamped against one another about a
simple matter of fact which can be decided at any
moment by reference to the — almanac. A priori
it was impossible to tell who blundered here,
the Frenchman or the Englishman: on Flam-
marion's side was Mrs. Norman Lockyer who
evidently upheld the original which she trans-
lated. On Proctor's side was the great weight
of the Encyclopedia Britannica. It was indeed
quite humiliating to have to go to the proverbially
put-away last year's almanac, for information
of which the Encyclopedia Britannica, R. A.
Proctor, Camille Flammarion, and Mrs. Norman
Lockyer are close at hand. Still, to the almanac
I went. But, alas, last year's almanacs are not
commodities of which the supply and demand per-
form those see-saw movements to which econo-
mists have given the name of law. Supply is
here plentiful enough, indeed, but the demand
being somewhat zeroish here, the exact locality
of supply becomes more or less problematic and
it was only after some researches in the archives
TRIBULATIONS OF A STUDENT 545
of a patent medicine manufacturer that an
almanac for 1893 was at last found — a year which
had only two eclipses; and these, says the al-
manac, were both of the Sun, March 15th, and
October 9th. In the court, then, of Mr. School-
boy's information, the celebrated astronomer,
Mr. Camille Flammarion, plus Mrs. Norman
Lockyer, was found guilty of an ordinary dic-
tionary blunder. And in the court of Last
Year's Almanac with R. A. Proctor and En-
cyclopedia Britannica as plaintiffs, he is found
guilty with his assistant, Mrs. Lockyer, of an —
astronomical blunder.
The surprise, I confess, was not a pleasant one.
To find a celebrated scientist to be after all only
a mere blunderer even in his own special field, does
not tend to strengthen one's faith in the accuracy
of scientific men; it rather places them among the
class of men not unjustly despised by them:
theologians and poets, not unjustly if you once
grant them that scientific men are naturally only
men of facts, and not of theories.
Still Mr. Flammarion is only one of hundreds :
and even the Sun has its spots, so one black sheep
might reasonably be expected among the many
white sheep men of science. Mr. Proctor, then,
having been found trustworthy as over against
black-sheepish Flammarion, I concluded to take
up for study his work called " Light Science for
Leisure Hours."
Of leisure hours I indeed had next to none;
but I was desirous to learn all I could about Eclip-
ses; and the Essay in that book on "Our-Chief-
546 TRIBULATIONS OF A STUDENT
Time-Piece losing Time" looked promising. So
with pencil in hand I set out to read this paper.
The explanations of the motions of the earth here
are highly interesting, and the pencil was kept
busily marking, until, until — well, you see, he got
to talking about old Xenophon and his Anabasis.
Now I well remember the porings over that book
in my preparation-for-college days. And Mr.
Proctor's words set me a thinking. For Mr.
Proctor says: "Mr. Layard has indentified the
site of Larissa with the modern Nimrod. Now
Xenophon relates that when Larissa was besieged
by the Persians an eclipse of the Sun took place
so remarkable in its effects (and therefore un-
doubtedly total) that the Median defenders of the
town threw down their arms, and the city was
accordingly captured. And Hansen has shown
that a certain estimate of the moon's motion
makes the eclipse which occurred on August 1 5 th,
310 B.C. not only total but central at Nimrod."
The calculation of this eclipse, the reader must
now be told, is an important element in the
"proof" that there is such a thing as acceleration
of the Moon.
What struck me here first was that there is
evidently here a misprint of 310 for 510, since in
310 Xenophon was already dead; had been dead
for some fifty years ; and 5 10 is about the right date
for the battle mentioned above. Now, a misprint
in a date is always unfortunate ; in the calculation
of an eclipse for the purpose of proving an astron-
omical theory it is doubly so. Still, misprints are
what may be called by poetic, though not by
scientific license, "an unforeseen accident." But
on turning to Xenophon (and as Mr. Proctor gives
TRIBULATIONS OF A STUDENT 547
no reference, I had to be looking for a pin in a load
of hay) Book 3, chapter 4, I find Xenophon's
words as follows: "The sun, obscured by a cloud
disappeared, and the darkness continued.' '
Now the longest possible time for a total eclipse
is five minutes ; three minutes is its ordinary
length. The continuance of the darkness, if Mr.
Proctor had read the passage, should have already
warned the celebrated astronomer that perhaps
Xenophon is dealing here with something else than
an eclipse. But Xenophon's words are "obscured
by a cloud." We are all familiar with a piece of
protoplasm in the mud becoming evolved by a
newly discovered (in the scientist's imagination)
scientific law into say — a celebrated physiologist.
But no imagination, scientific or otherwise, has yet
ventured to soar to a height (or is it a depth?)
where an ordinary cloud becomes transformed
into a solar eclipse by which the acceleration of
the moon is proved.
The upshot of my perusal of this essay in "Lei-
sure Hours" was that even Mr. Proctor has hardly
a better claim upon my leisure hours than Mr.
Flammarion in matters where the strictest possible
accuracy is required, in other words, in science
truly so called as distinct from science falsely so
called.
4.
Discouraging as these experiences were with
two men of science (really a kind of two and a
half, if we add Mrs. Lockyer) there seemed as yet
no sufficient reason why I should give up my
search for information about eclipses, even if
another black sheep has to be added to the one
already found. So I concluded to get my in-
548 TRIBULATIONS OF A STUDENT
formation at first hand; that is, I started out to
make a list of all the eclipses that are recorded
as having been observed on certain days. I
turned to Appleton's Annual Cyclopedia, to find
for each year its noteworthy eclipses.
For 1868, the article "Astronomy" tells me
that on August 17th there was a great total eclipse
of the Sun in India; and that some folk from
England actually journeyed and voyaged some
thousands of miles to get a peep at the Sun for
some three minutes of time. Out comes notebook
and pencil; and down is put: "Solar Eclipse, Aug-
ust 17th, 1868." But alas, the path of the true
lover (even if only of eclipses) is far from smooth.
For I had hardly written down August 17th, when
I read further in the letter of the observer, who
speaks of it as having occurred on the morning of
the 1 8th. This time it was the rubber that had
to come out instead of the pencil; but alas! my
hand was stayed. Who was right here anyhow?
The observer or the reporter? Again I had to
leave the Annual Cyclopedia and go back to the
Cast-off last year's Almanac. The eclipse proved
to have been on the 18th and the almanac became
once more an exalted thing in my eyes. But as to
the Annual Cyclopedia — its score of volumes
became useless to me in this inquiry, since I never
could feel sure again that there isn't some error
in its dates, however numerous the dates given.
5-
Flammarion (plus Mrs. Lockyer) Proctor,
Annual Cyclopedia — I had to lay them aside.
However valuable for their purposes — for my
TRIBULATIONS OF A STUDENT 549
special purpose they became just so much waste
paper. Only waste paper could not have beguiled
me to spend my time thereon, but these men and
that thing by their pretence did. Still I kept
on. There is the Encyclopedia Britannica, the
arsenal whence all the Goliaths draw their
weapons in their challenges of the superstitions of
the Davids. Its article on astronomy had already
done me good service in setting me on my guard
against black-sheepish Flammarion. And surely,
whither could I fly from the treacherous errors
of the Annual, if not to the Britannica?
Behold then the Eclipse searcher going forth
through its pages in quest of the eclipses enumera-
ted therein. Quickly then with pencil and note-
book, for here volume 2, p. 788, is a total solar
eclipse for June 18th, i860.
All the way from the library to my house I was
munching, so to speak, this my find of an eclipse
for June 18, i860. I was very happy therewith,
for nowhere else is this particular eclipse recorded. *
But my joy was only brief; for coming home and
looking over some other data in comparison with
the new, I found that by no manner of means could
an eclipse be June 18th, i860. The heavens
would first have to be torn asunder; while all is
natural enough with the eclipse on July 18th,
where the cast-away almanac rightly places it.
Of course my cast-off almanacs rose in value
thereafter with the buoyancy of a Wall street
bull-market. But the Encyclopedia Britannica,
the great Britannica, in the one thing alone I
needed it, proved about as worthless as friends
Flammarion, plus Mrs. Lockyer, and Proctor and
the Annual Cyclopedia.
55° TRIBULATIONS OF A STUDENT
6.
The defection of the Britannica, Britannica the
Great, was a blow to my eclipsical ambition.
Must I then in very deed begin life over again,
and become a special student of Astronomy in
order to be able to verify a single statement I find
in my reading? For it was with this that I had
started. The Germans say, Alter guten Dinge
sind Drei: We never know the true value of a
thing until we have given it three trials. I had
tried Appleton's; I had tried the Britannica; there
was still one encyclopedia I had not tried. So I
concluded to try Johnson's Cyclopedia.
The new edition of this work is superior to its
first edition. Its astronomical articles are gen-
erally by Simon Newcomb, who is justly esteemed
as having no superior as a practical astronomer.
And indeed his article on Eclipses is far superior in
its treatment to anything I had hitherto met in my
search.
Among the things I carried off from this article
in that Cyclopedia was that the length of the mean
Synodical month was 29 days, 12 hours, 43 min-
utes, 57 seconds. Here was a veritable feast for
me. In all my previous calculations I had used a
month six seconds longer. The difference is
enough to affect seriously the calculation of
eclipses, especially those of say, two thousand
years ago. As this Cyclopedia was dated in the
last decade of the 19th century, it surely gave the
latest known data; and this correction of six
seconds seemed an invaluable find.
The glee with which I pocketed this piece of
information can be likened only to that of Frank-
lin when he came home with his whistle. But
TRIBULATIONS OF A STUDENT 551
Franklin's glee was, as we all know, shortlived
enough. And alas! so also was mine. After
going through numerous figurings of all sorts,
I wrote in an evil moment some inquiry to the
United States Naval Observatory, and mentioned
Professor Newcomb's value of the month. In reply
came the following statement from the director
of the observatory: "The value you quote from
Johnson's Cyclopedia is erroneous. I asked Pro-
fessor Newcomb about it, and he says it is due to
some mistake that he cannot explain."
Reader, when the Greek artist wished to show
forth the utmost intensity of pain he represented
the sufferer's face as — hidden. To express it was
beyond his art ; so he left it to the imagination of
each to picture it to himself. My astonishment,
my dismay on reading this letter — bombshell,
thunder clap from clear sky, go to the dictionary
and gather all such descriptions: and a goodly
baker's dozen of them Strang together may give
you a hint for the picture you may form of my
poor condition. I have ever since been going
about much like a dog who has just had a sound
beating, and in my innerest innermost I feel
singularly crestfallen.
7-
The above was all written out. In another evil
moment I sent it to Simon Newcomb himself to
read it over. His reply is as follows:
"I have glanced over your 'Tribulations' with
much interest. You do not make sufficient
allowance for the difficulty of excluding all errors
from exact astronomical statements. So far, as-
tronomers have no more succeeded in doing this
55^ TRIBULATIONS OF A STUDENT
than policemen have in keeping burglars out of a
city. It is a very good thing to have them hunted
up and pointed out as you have done, but for every
one you run down a new one will come in the
future.
I hardly know whether to take you seriously
when you speak of Flammarion and Proctor as
eminent astronomers. It is not to be expected
that the public should be able to distinguish
between a working astronomer and a popular
writer on astronomy; but you seem to have
reached a stage in which the difference should be
perceptible. You measure the productions of
these writers by altogether too exact a standard.
Why should a popular writer, or the translator
of a popular book, distinguish between the Met-
onic Cycle and the Saros ? It makes no difference
to the public which name you call them by, and
they write for the public.' '
And now I am more crestfallen than ever.
To Professor Wm. Harkness
Director of the Observatory at Washington,
D. C.
My temper has always been what I must desig-
nate as scientific, and though brought up in a
strictly religious land I became an agnostic early,
and remained one till about ten years ago. Now
I am an evangelical Christian, who does not
shrink from accepting even the verbal inspiration
of the Scriptures. And yet, all the while, I have
not for a moment given up the demand upon
myself as well as upon others for most exact
scientific methods in investigation. The reason
TRIBULATIONS OF A STUDENT 553
I wrote out that account of the Eclipse Investiga-
tion (which you are good enough to say you have
read "with a good deal of amusement") was that
it was to me very instructive, and was written
with anything but amusement to myself. I am
now forty-four years old; but having been a hermit
for the last ten years I have really lived in the
world only some thirty brief years. But I had
all along been led to suppose that it is only babies,
women, metaphysicians, theologians and poli-
ticians who make a specialty of loving the scientific
method when they look at it with their — backs.
That eclipse experience has taught me (and it
was for poor me a rather bitter lesson) that
even scientific men will also bear the strictest
watching. Since then, my mind being once open
to that conviction — I have found this true in
some astounding instances. In looking up Op-
poltzer's Kanon der Finsternisse, of which you
speak, in the Boston Public Library, I came across
another publication by the same scientific Acad-
emy which published the Kanon, in which booklet
the scientific author undertakes in all seriousness
to "calculate" the eclipses named in the Bible
(I quote the details from memory of about four
years ago.) One of the eclipses for which he gives
the exact moment is from Genesis 15: 12, 13.
"And when the sun was going down, a deep sleep
fell upon Abram, and lo, an horror of great
darkness fell upon him." This, the author says,
was surely an eclipse of the sun, and then he
calculates it, and establishes thereby the exact
date of the occurrence. And a whole Academy
(of. which for aught I know you and Professor
Newcomb may be honored members) actually
554 TRIBULATIONS OF A STUDENT
sits down and deliberately votes it to be printed
among its own memoirs . . ;
The above is only one of several performances
of that kind. The Larissa Eclipse, concerning
which you express a fear that I have gone astray,
is fully on par with that kind of "work." The
largeness of literature thereon, which you think
an argument for its genuineness, would only show
that astronomical snowballs also increase the more
they are rolled. Though in deference to your
doubt I will go over the ground again.
You may not have heard that some one once
undertook to calculate seriously the ' 'eclipse' '
which occurred at the Crucifixion. The Greek
in Luke " rov r/Xiov eKXeinovros" is the tech-
nical expression for eclipses, though literally it
simply means, "the sun failing." But after a
great deal of labor the calculator had to learn at
last that the narrative places the Crucifixion
on the 15th of the lunar month, and therefore
at — full moon!*
Kepler is, of course, an astronomical giant.
Well, Matthew in his second chapter speaks of a
star, a3rr/p } going before the magi, not asrpov,
constellation. But Kepler labored hard and
proved that a remarkable conjunction of some
three bodies took place around Bethlehem about
B.C. 7. (Matthew says the star went before the
magi some distance.) Ludwig Ideler, royal
astronomer at Berlin in 1825, and as fine a
scholar as well as astronomer as ever lived
(perhaps the only rare combination of the two)
whose handbook on chronology is a classic, went
*An eclipse of the sun can take place only at new
moon.
TRIBULATIONS OF A STUDENT 555
over the whole matter after Kepler and agress
with him that this is most probably the "explana-
tion" of Matthew; though the plain meaning of
the Greek is as if, when you sign yourself Wm.
Harkness I should set about to prove by calcula-
tion that you really signed it Phineas Tomstick.
Ideler thus with Kepler sets the birth of Christ
in 7 B.C. Here are two great astronomers
settled on a date, one of whom is a profound schol-
ar in addition: settled by means of the whole
apparatus of calculations, conjunctions, and what
not. But Ideler adds that the conjunction was
vSuch (a moon's diameter separating two of the
conjuncting bodies!) that a person with weak eyes
would see them as one star. Now I am only a plain
man, and my eyes, Heaven knows, are weak
enough. But thank God, my head is not yet
weak enough not to rebel at once against three
magi being suddenly struck with weak eyes to
see planets a moon's diameter apart as one. But
I am only a plain man, and even strength of head
would count here but little against giant astron-
omers. But Mr. Prit chard, who happens to be an
astronomer, also rebelled, or rather his suspicions
were aroused by that unlucky weak-eyes remark.
Accordingly, he recalculated the whole, and he
now shows conclusively that while Kepler and
Ideler are right about the conjunctions, the road
from Jerusalem to Bethlehem is such that much
of the way the planets must have been behind
the magi instead of going before them, as Matthew
expressly says it did.
I have studied Ideler faithfully, lovingly, be-
cause he is a classic; his work is beautifully done.
But even he — needed watching.
36
556 TRIBULATIONS OF A STUDENT
Knowing as I do human nature, the next thing
to expect is that some archeologist will make the
discovery that the road from Jerusalem to
Bethlehem was originally such that the planets
were before the magi all along the way.
Taxes, corporations, and "scientific" errors
never die, however often buried.
THE DAY BEFORE CHRISTMAS IN A
NEW ENGLAND HILLTOWN.
December 24th.
I.
To-day there are two funerals in our village
of some 1500 souls; the first is directly across
the street. A year ago, about this time, we were
all startled to see in mid-winter a force of men
go to work to shingle, to put on a piazza, and
more of the like carpenters' work, out of doors
and in zero weather. Mr. Dockwell had sold
his place in the valley, about a mile from here,
where he had been prosperously farming it for
years, and keeping boarders in the summer.
The neighboring millionaire who had been wishing
to round out his estate, offered him ten thousand
dollars for his farm of some fifty acres. It was
a godsend to the farmer and his hard-working
wife. On the income of ten thousand dollars
the rest of their days could be spent in comparative
ease. So the farm was sold, and this house on
the hill bought for their last home; the house
itself had already had its owp. tragedy. Thirty
years ago it became the home of one of the two
grocers in town. He prospered, accumulated.
Became duly selectman, trustee of savings bank,
and the rest. Then one thing after another
began to go amiss. A slight disagreement with
his landlord, who owned the only available spot
for a second grocery-store ended in his having
558 THE DAY BEFORE CHRISTMAS
to seek a new, inconvenient place. The business
went down. Then he went into the lumber
business at great expense ; and ere long he had the
experience which he at first lacked, and his
customers whom he had to trust, had the money.
Then he began to speculate in stocks. Here too,
after a while, a very brief while, he had the
experience, and the bucket shop keeper had the
money. At home also things were going wrong;
wife, the combination of Eve and Xantippe;
son, the only son, a trial as well as constant
financial drain because of his unexpected esca-
pades. And it all ended in the man being found
dead by his wife one morning in the loft of his
barn — by hanging. . . . The well-kept place
assessed for $5,000 was sold to any one who
would take it quickly. The widow could not
stay there, and would not if she could. It fell
into the hands of a peddler, to whom it was
knocked down at auction for less than $2,000;
and he promptly plowed up the fine lawns, planted
it with potatoes, raspberries; poultry began to
scratch up not only the few acres of the place
itself, but also the neighbors' lawns. After some
six years of unsightliness and neglect, the owners
found themselves unable to keep the place. And
Mr. Dockwell in the nick of time took it off their
hands for some $3,000.
And now in the middle of the winter he under-
took to tear out the insides and rebuild the house
with all the modern improvements; steam heat,
electric lights, modern plumbing, ba,th rooms;
so as to make it attractive the very next summer for
— summer boarders
The poor wife cried .... all to herself however —
IN A NEW ENGLAND HILLTOWN 559
bitterly, when she saw the havoc wrought with
what she had come into as her — home. The
confusion lasted for months : not until May was
the house done; but this was the least of the
trouble. She had worked hard all the best years
of her life, as only a New England's thrifty
farmer's wife can work; all for the sake of a
comfortable rest in her advanced years. And
here the advanced years were upon them; both
in the latter sixties, and it was all to begin over
again; boarders, cows, a horse, small fruits, and
the never-ending chores.
But even this was not all. Her husband was
afflicted with severe asthma. His coughing had
been keeping awake at least one of his neighbors ;
and I myself, though some 300 feet away from
his house, had often heard that never-heard-before
hollow metallic cough, cough, cough, which
lasted at times for minutes at a time. She well
knew that he might choke any day to death, and
yet over half of the money got for the farm went
into the house, some $7,000 in fact. The good
woman thought and wept ; and wept and thought,
but never a word to her husband, only a whisper
now and then to a sympathetic neighbor. And
thus things went on since May. Boarders came,
at ten, twelve dollars a week. It was hard, hard
work — for the woman. Part of the house could
fortunately be rented. All, at last, began to go
well. She had become used to the new situation,
the husband kept busy; and with the exceotion
of that resounding metallic cough, cough, cough,
otherwise quite satisfied and well. Sunday he
went to the city to a brother-in-law, who never
saw him so well as then. Tuesday, however, he
560 THE DAY BEFORE CHRISTMAS
was suddenly taken ill. He had been chilled on
the way. The valley physician when sent for
was not in. The hill physician came, prescribed,
expecting the valley physician to come during
the night. The latter, learning that the hill
physician had already been there, expected him
to come during the night. Thus neither came
until the morning, just in time for both being
able to pronounce him— dead. And so the
funeral is to-day at one, and I am watching it.
By a strange fatality, the only time in the history
of the town when there are two different funerals
on the same day (a father and his daughter were
once buried on the same day, but from the same
house and at the same time) the regular under-
taker gets neither. This one is in charge of the
city undertaker, eight miles away. And so here
they are: the hearse, and six coaches. The
sixth is being sent back, as two relatives who
came from a neighboring town in their own
team, are going back therein, and this coach is
for them. So off they start; the hearse black,
with black horses, drivers in black; five coaches,
all uniform, black, with black horses, well-
groomed, sleek; everything comme il faut — a fine
procession; but the procession winds up with
two persons in a buggy, with brown robe, and a
white thin horse, with its ribs in sight
I went over this morning across the way to
the widow to bring her just one word of cheer,
and I found her hanging out her clothes on the
washline. A sister from some distance who had
come to the funeral was inside at the wash-tub.
And on the whole it was the wisest as well as
the bravest thing to do: on Christmas, on the
IN A NEW ENGLAND HILLTOWN 561
morrow of her life-mate's funeral, to keep right
on at work .... She had been expecting such an
end for years, yet when it came, as is nearly
always the case thus, the shock was just as if
the event had never been expected.
She stretched out her hands to me with tears.
" I suppose it is all for the best," she said. " God
knows what is best."
A neighbor whispers: " To think that that
man should spend so much on that house in his
condition ! His poor wife will have to sell the
house at a sacrifice," and more of the like. The
wife, doubtless, now and then thinks the same;
but never a word of complaint shall pass her
lips. And her grief is genuine. And the washline
is the real answer now to every problem
The ultra religious see even here a case very
much like that of the prosperous farmer in
Scripture who was to build himself new barns
but was told: " This night they require thy soul
of thee! " But the widow honestly mourns, as
honestly faces the tragedy, and is at the — wash-
line the day after the funeral, and at Christmas.
Brave, noble dame, thou hast made no presents
to any this Christmas, but thou hast left some-
thing more lasting to thy fellows: thy — wash-
line
II.
December 25th.
The second funeral yesterday was at 2 :3o,
an hour and a half after the first. This man also
died of asthma; and was, not exactly a neighbor,
but almost one. Till recently he lived in the
next house to mine on the same side of the street.
The first death was almost sudden, but peaceful.
562 THE DAY BEFORE CHRISTMAS
This case was one of long suffering, and frequent
attacks of choking. When the owner of the
second grocery-site died, the store came into the
market again, and this man took the store, but
with small capital. He eked out from it some
sort of living for himself, wife and a boy and a
girl. But the sickness at last compelled him to
have a man take his place on the team; this took
most of the profit. Himself ill abed most of the
time, the wife keeping house upstairs, tending
store down stairs, a bell calling her down whenever
the door was opened, the children were sent to
school during school hours, but helped in the
store out of school hours.
Mr. Pond was of Scotch descent; the wife was
from Nova Scotia; a faithful, clear-headed,
plodding, overworked wife and mother. But the
two children grew up with strong faces, delicate
build, and winsome manners.
Last summer the girl of some twelve years was
taken ill with typhoid fever; they had moved
away about a mile from town to have a home,
rather than an up-stairs over a store, with only
a stoop to sit out on. And they took comfort
in having a place with a country outlook, and a
bit of green to sit out on during the hot days.
But something was wrong with the new place,
and ere long the popular, innocent, dear Ethel
was announced to her old village friends as — dead.
Bouquets were sent by the dozen; every heart
was touched; the sickness of the father, the
faithful toil of the wife and mother, the perfect
companionship of brother and sister — the tragic
death laid at once to the moving, thus laying
an additional burden of remorse upon the parents
IN A NEW ENGLAND HILLTOWN 563
— human nature is here quick to return to its
godlikeness, from which it has fallen, and duly
came forward here with deep, heartfelt sympathy.
But the blow was of the sort for which there is
no human help. The day before the child's
funeral, when a word of sympathy was sent over
the telephone, there came in response a tender
appreciation of all kindness shown, but the
broken voice and the tears which could be plainly
heard even at the telephone told clearly enough
of the helplessness of man at such times. During
the funeral the father lay ill up-stairs, And he
never recovered thereafter, until at last he too
died the same day with Mr. Dockwell, and was
laid way the same day with him.
And, now, the poor woman has a boy to bring
up — it was the father's hope to see him through
the High School — and herself to support. The
townfolk will be kind, but in the end she will
have to provide for herself.
At one time he was in financial straights, his
wagon and horses had to be sold for the creditors.
A Roman Catholic Irishman, a stable-keeper,
bought them for him, to enable him to go on with
the business. He being an undertaker at the
same time — for the Roman Catholics — it some-
how came natural this time that this Roman
Catholic Irishman be the one for the first time
in the history of this town to bury a Protestant;
and take him to the Protestant Cemetery, after
listening to Protestant prayers and Scripture
read by a Protestant clergyman, and Protestant
songs by a Protestant choir.
Thus one loving deed by a plain, kind hearted
stable keeper had made possible what dozens
564 THE DAY BEFORE CHmu.. £
of Conferences betwixt the heads of different
religious bodies are most unlikely to accomplish.
And as I was talking with him only the day before,
he was wholly unaware that he had brought
about aught extraordinary ......
My dear Panin:
This is very remarkably well done — very lightly
and delicately put on the canvas but it is all very sad
and very discouraging. I do not feel that such a minor
note is needed in our present state of mind. Drop the
note of depression. Men look for encouragement and
stimulus to endure the tragic ills of life which need no
enlargement by your skilful pen. Your grace of style
is inimitable. You ought to be remembered for it
and you will be. — E. P. U.
[Comment by " my dear Panin": Hml]
THE INSPIRATION OF THE SCRIPTURES.
Scientifically Demonstrated.
To the Editor of The Sun, New York City :
Sir — In to-day's Sun Mr. W. R. L. calls for a
" champion of orthodoxy" to "step into the arena
of the Sun'' and give him some "facts." Here
are some facts :
i. The first 17 verses of the New Testament
contain the genealogy of the Christ. It consists
of two main parts: Verses 1-11 cover the period
from Abraham, the father of the chosen people,
to the Captivity, when they ceased as an inde-
pendent people. Verses 12-17 cover the period
from the Captivity to the promised Deliverer, the
Christ.
Let us examine the first part of this genealogy.
Its vocabulary has 49 words, or 7X7. This
number is itself a multiple of seven (Feature 1),
and the sum of its factors is 2 sevens (Feature 2).
Of these 49 words 28, or 4 sevens, begin with a
vowel; and 21, or 3 sevens, begin with a con-
sonant (Feature 3); seven end with a vowel, and
42, or 6 sevens, end with a consonant (Feature 4).
Again : these 49 words of the vocabulary have
266 letters, or 7X2X19; this number is itself 38
sevens (Feature 5), and the sum of its factors is
28, or 4 sevens (Feature 6). Of these 266 letters,
moreover, 140, or 20 sevens, are vowels, and 126,
or 18 sevens, are consonants (Feature 7).
That is to say: Just as the number of words
in the vocabulary is a multiple of seven, so is the
566 THE INSPIRATION OF THE SCRIPTURES
number of its letters a multiple of seven; just as
the sum of the factors of the number of the
words is a multiple of seven, so is the sum of the
factors of the numbers of their letters a multiple
of seven. And just as the number of words is
divided between vowel words and consonant
words by sevens, so is their number of letters
divided between vowels and consonants by sevens.
Again: Of these 49 words 35, or 5 sevens,
occur more than once in the passage; and 14, or
2 sevens, occur but once (Feature 8) ; seven, occur
in more than one form, and 42, or 6 sevens, occur
in only one form (Feature 9). And among the
parts of speech the 49 words are thus divided:
42, or 6 sevens, are nouns, seven are not nouns
(Feature 10). Of the nouns 35, or 5 sevens, are
proper names, seven are common nouns (Feature
11). Of the proper names 28 are male ancestors
of the Christ, and seven are not (Feature 12).
Morever, these 49 words are distributed alpha-
betically thus : words under as are 2 1 in number,
or 3 sevens; Z-k } 14, or 2 sevens, m-X, also 14. No
other groups of sevens stopping at the end of a
letter are made by these 49 words, the groups of
sevens stop with these letters and no others. But
the letters as 8, k la x are letters 156101222
of the Greek alphabet, and the sum of these num-
bers (called their Place Values) is 56, or 8 sevens
(Feature 13).
This enumeration of the numeric phenomena of
-these 11 verses does not begin to be exhaustive,
but enough has been shown to make it clear that
this part of the genealogy is constructed on an
elaborate design of sevens.
Let us now turn to the genealogy as a whole.
THE INSPIRATION OF THE SCRIPTURES 567
I will not weary your readers with recounting all
the numeric phenomena thereof: pages alone
would exhaust them. I will point out only one
feature : The New Testament is written in Greek.
The Greeks had no separate symbols for express-
ing numbers, corresponding to our Arabic figures,
but used instead the letters of their alphabet:
just as the Hebrews, in whose tongue the Old
Testament is written, made use for the same
purpose of theirs. Accordingly, the 24 Greek
letters stand for the following numbers: 123
4 5 7 8 9 10 20 30 40 50 60 70 80 100 200 300
400 500 600 700 800. Every Greek word is thus
a sum in arithmetic obtained by adding the num-
bers for which its letters stand, or their numeric
values. Now the vocabulary to the entire gen-
ealogy has 72 words. If we write its numeric
value over each of these 72 words, and add them,
we get for their sum 42,364, or 6,052 sevens, dis-
tributed into the following alphabetical groups
only: ot-fi have 9,821, or 1,403 sevens; y-d,
1904, or 272 sevens; ^-5, 3,703, or 529 sevens;
0-p, 19,264, or 2,752 sevens;- G-x, 7,672, or 1,096
sevens. But the numeric value of the 10 letters
used for making these groups is 931, or 7X7X19,
a multiple not only of seven but of seven sevens.
And the same is true of the 90 forms in which
these 72 words occur: their 90 numeric values
sum up 54,075, or 7,725 sevens, and this number
is distributed into just seven alphabetical groups
of sevens.
Let Mr. W. R. L. sit down and try to write
some 300 words intelligently like this genealogy,
and reproduce some numeric phenomena of like
designs. If he does it in 6 months, he will indeed
568 THE INSPIRATION OF THE SCRIPTURES
do a wonder. Let us assume that Matthew ac-
complished this feat in one month.
2. The second part of this chapter, verses
18-25, relates the birth of the Christ. It consists
of 161 words, or 23 sevens; occurring in 105
forms, or 15 sevens, with a vocabulary of 77
words, or 11 sevens. Joseph is spoken to here
by the angel. Accordingly, of the 77 words the
angel uses 28, or 4 sevens; of the 105 forms he
uses 35, or 5 sevens; the numeric value of the
vocabulary is 52,605, or 7,515 sevens; of the
forms, 65,429, or 9,347 sevens.
This enumeration only begins as it were to
barely scratch the surface of the numerics of this
passage. But what is specially noteworthy here
is: the fact that the angel's speech has also a
scheme of sevens makes it a kind of ring within
a ring, a wheel within a wheel. If Mr. L. can
write a similar story of 161 words with the same
scheme of sevens alone (though there are several
others here) in some three years, he would ac-
complish a still greater wonder. Let us assume
that Matthew accomplished this feat in only 6
months.
3. The second chapter of Matthew tells of the
childhood of the Christ. Its vocabulary has 161
words, or 23 sevens, with 896 letters, or 128 sev-
ens, and 238 forms, or 34 sevens ; the numeric value
of the vocabulary is 123,529, or 17,647 sevens; of
the forms, 166,985, or 23,855 sevens; and so on
through pages of enumeration. This chapter has
at least four logical divisions, and each division
shows alone the same phenomena found in the
THE INSPIRATION OF THE SCRIPTURES 569
chapter as a whole. Thus the first six verses have
a vocabulary of 56 words, or 8 sevens, etc. There
are some speeches here: Herod speaks, the Magi
speak, the angel speaks. But so pronounced are
the numeric phenomena here, that though there
are as it were, numerous rings within rings, and
wheels within wheels, each is perfect in itself,
though forming all the while only part of the rest.
If Mr. L. can write a chapter like this as nat-
urally as Matthew writes, but containing in some
500 words so many intertwined yet harmonious
numeric features, in say the rest of his days, —
whatever his age now, or the one to which he is to
attain: if he thus accomplish it at all, it will in-
deed be marvel of marvels. Let us assume that
Matthew accomplished this feat in only 3 years.
4. There is not, however, a single paragraph
of the hundreds in Matthew that is not con-
structed on exactly the same plan. Only with
each additional paragraph the difficulty of con-
structing it increases not in arithmetical but in
geometrical progression. For he contrives to
write his paragraphs so as to develop constantly
fixed numeric relations to what goes before and
after. Thus in his last chapter he contrives to
use just 7 words not used by him before. It
would thus be easy to show that Mr. L. would re-
quire some centuries to write a book like Mat-
thew's. How long it took Matthew the writer
does not know. But how he contrived to do it
between the Crucifixion, A. D. 30 (and his Gospel
could not have been written earlier), and the
destruction of Jerusalem, A. D. 70 (and the Gos-
pel could not have been written later), let Mr. L.
and his like minded explain.
570 THE INSPIRATION OF THE SCRIPTURES
Anyhow Matthew did it, and we thus have a !
miracle, — an unheard of literary, mathematical j
artist, unequalled, hardly even conceivable. This |
is the first fact for Mr. L. to contemplate.
A second fact is yet more important : In his
very first section, the genealogy discussed above,
the words found nowhere else in the New Testa-
ment, occur 42 times, 7X6; and have 126 letters,
7X6X3, each number a multiple not only of sev-
ens, but of 6 sevens, to name only two of the
many numeric features of these words. But how
did Matthew know, when designing this scheme
for these words (whose sole characteristic is that
they are found nowhere else in the- New Testa-
ment) that they would not be found in the other
26 books? that they would not be used by the
other 7 New Testament writers? Unless we as-
sume the impossible hypothesis that he had an
agreement with them to that effect, he must have
had the rest of the New Testament before him
when he wrote his book. The Gospel of Matthew,
then, was written last.
5. It so happens, however, that the Gospel of
Mark shows the very same phenomena. Thus
the very passage called so triumphantly in to-
day's Sun a ' 'forgery," the Last Twelve Verses
of Mark, presents among some sixty features of
sevens the following phenomena: It has 175
words, or 25 sevens; a vocabulary of 98 words, or
2 sevens of sevens, with 553 letters, or 79 sevens;
133 forms, or 19 sevens, and so on to the minutest
detail.
Mark, then, is another miracle, another unpar-
alelled mathematical literary genius. And in
THE INSPIRATION OF THE SCRIPTURES 57 1
the same way in which it was shown that Mat-
thew wrote last it is also shown that Mark too
wrote last. Thus to take an example from the
very passage: It has just one word found no-
where else in the New Testament, davdai^o^^
deadly. This fact is signalled by no less than
■six features of sevens thus: Its numeric value is
581, or 83 sevens, of which the letters ending its
four syllables have 490, or 7 X 7 X 5 X 2 : a multiple
of seven sevens, with the sum of its factors 21,
or 3 sevens. In the vocabulary it is preceded by
42 words, 7 X6; in the passage itself by 126 words,
or 7X6X3, both numbers multiples not only of
seven, but of 6 sevens. We have thus established
before us this third fact for Mr. L. to contem-
plate: Matthew surely wrote after Mark, and Mark
just as surely wrote after Matthew.
6. It happens, however, to be a fourth fact
that Luke presents the same phenomena as Mat-
thew and Mark, and so does John, and James,
and Peter, and Jude, and Paul. And we have
thus no longer two great unheard of mathematical
literati, but eight of them, and each wrote after the
other.
7. And not only this. As Luke and Peter
wrote. each two books, John 5, and Paul 14, it
can in the same way be shown that each of the
seven and twenty New Testament books was
written last. In fact, not a page of the over 500
in Westcott & Hort's Greek edition (which the
writer has used throughout) but it can be demon-
strated thus to have been written last.
The phenomena are there, and there is no
human way of explaining them. Eight men
37
572 THE INSPIRATION OF THE SCRIPTURES
cannot each write last, 27 books, some 500 pages
cannot each be written last. But once assume
that One Mind directed the whole, and the prob-
lem is solved simply enough; but this is Verbal
Inspiration — of every jot and title of the New
Testament.
There remains only to be added that by pre-
cisely the same kind of evidence the Hebrew Old
Testament is proved to be equally inspired. Thus
the very first verse of Genesis has seven words,
28 letters, or 4 sevens; its very first syllable has,
a numeric value of 203, or 29 sevens, to name only
three out of the dozens of numeric features of
this one verse of only seven words. — N. Y. Sun j
Nov. 21, 1899. Corrected.
To this letter several replies appeared in the
Sun } but not a single answer. For in only thre^
ways can it be refuted.
a. By showing that the facts are not as here
given.
b. By showing that it is possible for eight mer
to write each after the other seven; for 27 bookr.l
for some 500 pages to be each in its turn writtei
last.
c. By showing that even if the facts be true
the arithmetic faultless, and the collocation o
the numerics honest, it does not follow that mer<
men could not have written thus without Inspira
tion from above.
Accordingly, as many as nine noted rationalist
(of whom Drs. Lyman Abbot and Charles W
Eliot are still living) were respectfully but puV
licly invited to refute the writer. One was no
"interested "in the writer's "arithmetical" doings
THE INSPIRATION OF THE SCRIPTURES 573
two "regretted" that they "had no time" to give
heed thereto. Another "did not mean to be
unkind," but. . . .The rest were silent. For the
Special benefit of these the writer printed the
original data with numerous details, enabling
them in the easiest manner to verify every state-
ment made by him, if they wished. And to the
oest of his ability he has for years seen to it that
10 scholar whom surely these things specially con-
cern remain in ignorance of the facts here re-
:ounted, and of hundreds of like cogency.
A notable exception to the above is a lawyer
of standing, whose books on Law are deemed as
}f authority. He had intelligence enough and
candor withal to confess that the case for the
Bible as made out by the writer is impregnable,
that the Bible is thus proved to be an "absolutely
unique book." This much the case itself extorts
from the but too well equipped writer on —
Evidence; and accordingly he henceforth reads
the writer's Numerics with intense appreciation.
And then, fresh from this confession, he betakes
i ! mself once more to the circulation of his anti-
Christian books in the writing of which he joys
bo spend his leisure hours ....
PREFACE
to "Thoughts," of 1899.
The best preface should really be the book
itself, but poor is the rule that admits of no
exception. Still, however pressing apparently
the need, the writer pens this preface, if not
with the half will of forced submission, at leas
with the divided heart of natural perplexity.
Nay, even the book itself he would fain have
left unknown. For the Spirit hath already in
the ages of yore recorded His opinion in the
complaint that of making many books there is
no end. And Job, to get his enemy wholly at
his mercy hath only one wish, O that mine
enemy had written a book! These, however,
are merely hints. The full illustrations are
given in at least four notable ways.
Moses is of all men the only one whom the
Spirit hath condescended to liken unto the Lore
Christ. "A prophet like unto me shall the Lord
God raise up unto you," he is commanded to
declare unto the chosen people, and a right rich,
a right full life he led, this man Moses.
Born in the house of toil, he is reared in a
palace. Spends twoscore years at court, and
fourscore in the wilderness. Leaves school
without his God at forty, and is sent back to
school by his God till he is eighty. Flees for
his life, keeps sheep for a wife. Is alone forty
APPENDIX 575
years without a multitude, is alone another
forty years with the multitude. Fasts forty
days, and talks with God face to face. A rich
life, a full life he leads, this man Moses.
A learned man, a wise man was this Moses.
He was versed in all the wisdom of the Egyp-
tians. The dynasties, he understood their puz-
zle. The hieroglyphics, he had fathomed their
mystery. The pyramids, he had solved their
problem. The sphinx, he had discovered its
secret. A wise man, a learned man was this
man Moses.
Come now, Moses, wilt thou not tell us what
thou sawest those forty years at Pharao's court?
in the wilderness with Jethro, with Zippora
thine, thy rebellious spouse, with Miriam, thy
rebellious sister, with Israel thy rebellious peo-
ple? Chevalier Bunsen would like to know.
Professor Brugsch would like to know, plain
Lepsius would like to know, the orientalists
would like to know; scholars, historians, a host
of cultured folk would like to know. Wilt thou
not tell us, thou man Moses? But wellnigh
ravishing though these themes be, pyramidical
silence is all he here hath for us, this man Moses.
Even those who cannot get away with . his
six days of creation, his parting sea, gust of
quails, his speaking ass, and serpent either
upright on legs seducing or hanging from a pole
healing, would gladly forgive him these his
indiscretions, if only he had left us some goodly
tomes of this his Egyptian wisdom. Nay, were
he suddenly to reappear, even if only to reveal
the mystery of his tomb, he might perhaps fail
of an appointment to the professorship of arche-
576 APPENDIX
ology at Oxford or Harvard, but the Royal soci-
ety would give him a right hearty welcome,
and a dollar a ticket would not be deemed too
high a price for getting a look from the plat-
form at this man Moses. The enterprising
newspaper would cheerfully part with a whole
thousand of its abounding dollars to secure his
first impressions of this land of interviews. The
magazine pictorial would secure from him a
paper, the magazine unpictorial would lay hold
of him for a symposium: 'Tngersoll on the
mistakes of Moses ; Moses on the mistakes of
Ingersoll." The young maids would crave his
autograph, the old maids his photograph. And
even the slowly moving universities would at
last relax to the extent at least of giving him
an honorary degree. A wondrous success he thus
would be, this man Moses. And yet this Moses
foregoes the riches of Egypt for the sake of
writing according to the mind of the Spirit.
3-
Unto Solomon was given a wise and under-
standing heart, so that the like of him was
neither before him nor was any to arise after him.
He excelled the wisdom of all the children of the
East, and all the wisdom of Egypt. "For he
was wiser than all men : than Ethan the Ezrahite,
and Heman, and Calcol, and Dada, the sons of
Mahol. Proverbs he spake three thousand, and
his songs were one thousand and five. And of
trees he spake: from the cedar in Lebanon even
unto the hyssop that springeth out of the wall.
He spake also of beasts, and of fowls, and of
creeping things, and of fishes." Yet of the men
APPENDIX 577
who alone are singled out for comparison with
the wisest of men the Spirit hath left us the bare
names. Of the three thousand proverbs (who
hath eyes to see let him look!) only a tithe have
been allowed to escape. Of the thousand and
five songs of Solomon (who hath ears to hear,
let him hear!) there has been allowed to be
wafted down the ages only one. Schiller leaves
some unfinished piece, Goethe leaves some im-
mature doings, and generation after generation
gathers up the fragments with the eagerness of
the faithful hound for the leavings from his mas-
ter's table. But from the table of Solomon — ■
with only one dish shall the generations be con-
tent. This is the estimate the Spirit places upon
the books writ by even the wisest of men.
4-
Unto John Baptist the witness is borne from
the lips of him that spake as man never spake
that he was of all prophets the greatest. Yea,
that among them born of women there was none
greater than John Baptist. A plain man he is.
this John Baptist. He dines not with the wits
his fare is locusts and honey wild: his garments
are not cut in the latest Jerusalem style: hairy
is his garment, leathern his girdle; a strange man
is this Baptist John; he had written no books;
the Jerusalem Critic does not praise him, the
Jordan Nation does not condemn him; the
booksellers do not advertise him, yet he has made
an unheard-of reputation, this John. He preaches
in the wilderness: no plush seats, no prelude,
postlude; no solo; no excursion train towards
Baptistville; no electrics towards ^Enon, not
57 S APPENDIX
even dray beast line. Yet the crowds flock to
hear this man with rock to the right of him, rock
to the left of him, rock at the back of him, only
water at the front of him, the rough breezes
around him, bare sky over him. Yet they flock
to hear this John: Jerusalem, and all Judea,
and the region round about Jordan. No fine
words he uses, this John: the cultured and re-
fined of the day are to him only a generation of
vipers. Yet he makes kings to tremble before
him, this John.
Before this voice crying in the wilderness all
pulpit eloquence is as the hand organ before the
hymn of the ages. Professors of homiletics, of
oratory, eloquence, and what not, what would
not here be given for at least one complete dis-
course of this man John! But though of the
eight writers of the New Testament no less than
four are assigned to make report of him, all we
are permitted to know of his preaching is: of
text, just seven words; of discourse, some six-
score of words. This is the estimate the Spirit
places upon the preservation of the words of,
upon the book of, him who had no superior among
them born of women.
5-
Lastly : The Son of Man himself, a few sayings
of his, perhaps not even genuine, were recently
discovered: Forthwith all Christendom is on
tiptoe: formal as well as devout; spurious as
well as genuine Christendom; all manner of
glasses, microscopic and otherwise, are turned on
these Rip Van Winklian arrivals. The wee
wordlets are demanded from the four quarters
of the heavens to give strict account of them-
APPENDIX 579
selves : Professor Ordinarius, and Professor
Extraordinarius, docent, fellow, tutor, reviewer,
scribe, gentleman of the scissors — are all present
at the examination of the strangers. This over
a few of His sayings: what commotion then
would there be were a single additional doing of
His brought to light? But the disciple who alone
of all others was permitted to rest his head on
the Master's bosom most solemnly declares:
" Many other signs, therefore, did Jesus which
are not written in this book And there are
also many other things which Jesus did, which if
they should be written every one, I suppose that
even the world itself would not contain the books
that should be written." On the most absorbing
theme which man could treat, here is one who
hath boundless material therefor, and he delib-
erately lays down his pen, and retires into the
eternal Silence after writing what would fill
perhaps one of the forty pages of the Sunday
newspaper, of which there are printed for us in
•the course of one year 2,040 such pages.
When in May, 1881, the Revised Version of
the New Testament was at last published, a
Chicago paper, eager to outstrip its rivals if only
for four and twenty hours, had the entire New
Testament telegraphed from New York for its
readers. This for the sake of a few changes in
the translation of the story of the Son of Man.
And thou, blessed John, knewest a world of
books about this Son of Man, and holdest thy
peace? Even so, for it was the mind of the
Spirit to witness that even for the doings of the
Son of God four booklets suffice for some eighteen
centuries of time.
580 APPENDIX
6.
But the Spirit hath not left the making of
many books to mere inference. He that hath
said, The words which I spake unto you, they
shall judge you at the last day, spake also this:
Every idle word that men shall speak, they shall
give account thereof in the day of judgment:
for by thy words thou shalt be justified, and by
thy words thou shalt be condemned. If it be
thus with every idle word spoken, which hath
only two wings, what of the printed word with
its hundreds and thousands of wings?
7.
And once more, as if to strike at the very root
of the multitudinous making of books, the Spirit
hath left the injunction: Be not many teachers,
my brethren, knowing that we shall receive
heavier judgment. The lips of the priest keeping
knowledge no longer, the hungry mass hath be-
taken itself elsewhither, to the writer; and the
writer has thus become the teacher, even where
he writes for self -imposition, if not for self-preser-
vation. And the Father of the spirits of all flesh
knowing the heart of the sons of Adam full well,
that with tyranny it begins and with tyranny it
ends, hath called to them across the ages, Be
not many teachers among you! A most earnest
thing is this making of books, a solemn matter
this of teaching!
The disciple, who by the grace of Heaven hath
been permitted to drink freely of the water of
Life in the pages of this Book can surely only
abstain from the guilt of making many books.
8.
But when the Pharisees asked the Master!
APPENDIX 581
Whether it be lawful to put away a wife for any
cause, he gave in answer: Moses for your hard-
ness of heart suffered you to put away your
wives, but from the beginning it hath not been so.
The great God, knowing that man is but flesh,
condescends thus to the less good instead of the
best simply because sinful man hath strayed
from the beginning when it had not been so.
And had the writer always been what the
great God intended man to be, there would be
neither book nor preface from him. But with
him also alas ! it had not been from the beginning
so. And so he published some dozen years ago
two booklets of "Thoughts." The motives for
their coming into visibility were, as natural,
rather mixed. If at twenty one is wiser than at
fifty, one is at thirty only wiser than at forty.
Some craving, perhaps, for sympathy by one
uprooted from his native soil, and not yet
grounded in the transplanted soil. A goodly
dose of honest philanthropy, with a like goodly
dose of Adamic tyrant, were likely enough also
well mixed in. Be that as it may, there was at
least some rather honest toil put into the work.
But honest though the booklets were, aphorisms
and sayings by the ounce, when put into the
form of a book, are not easily relished by a race
that takes indeed its lunches standing, but pre-
fers its reading, if not by the pound, at least by
the yard. The New York Rhadamanthus ac-
cordingly let loose upon the poor author its
chosen Cerberus, who if he failed to show the
thoroughbred blood, betrayed at least the teeth
of the race. Rhadamanthus has indeed the grace
shortly to confess that if he had known that the
582 APPEND Dt
victim of Cerberus had been befriended by his
own father (for even Rhadamanthuses have
fathers), he would have kept Cerberus chained,
and the poor author is duly appreciative of the
glimpse he is thus permitted to have of the
mysteries of criticism. But the author on the
whole deemed it prudent to retire from the field,
and retire he did, quite crestfallen.
9;
America's most sympathetic, and therefore
truest, critic writes indeed to the author from
across the. miles of space that lie betwixt them,
"Be not discouraged, keep on!" And America's
acutest philosopher (to whom the author's
"philosophy" is only a kind of endurable abomi-
nation) confesses indeed that the first booklet
contains at least four sayings of which a hundred
would make the author what he calls "immortal" :
so that according to the commercial mode of
speech the poor Cerberus bitten writer. is already
at thirty immortal four per cent. And America's
second eminent critic does not indeed hesitate to
write a rather longitudinal laudation of two other
of poor author's wordlets. But neither these nor
the many other cheering words would have seri-
ously roused the author to reprint some of his
words. For he soon learned that if it be worth
while to spend half a lifetime in getting into the
papers, it is worth while to spend the other half
of his lifetime in keeping out of the papers.
10.
For a marvellous thing had meanwhile come
to pass in the life of the author. Hitherto he had
sought wisdom all his days, and sought it most
APPENDIX 583
earnestly: sought it in science, sought it in
philosophy; sought it in art, sought it in letters;
sought it in college, sought it in the world; sought
it from professor, sought it from Preacher; sought
it laughing, crying, sought it yearning, sobbing.
And many indeed were the things he learned in
the search. The physiologist told him how they
make frogs' legs dance ; the astronomer told him
that Sirius does not really twinkle, and the nat-
uralist told him that the serpent once had legs,
and lost them in his attempts at evolution. The
philosopher told him that the universe is a ma-
chine, the scientist, that men have only recently
grown wiser than monkeys. The artist explained
to him how he writes merely for the sake of
writing, the preacher, that one can be a Christian
teacher even as agnostic. Lastly, the Professor
of Ethics convinced the writer that he was an
excellent fellow. But not a soul even as much as
whispered to him that the fear of the Lord is the
beginning of wisdom, and Knowledge of the
Most High, that is understanding. As upon
these sentences he at last stumbled as it were in
a book which is found indeed on many a parlor
table of Christendom, but has to be dusted twice
a week, the net sum of the writer's fruitless search
after wisdom was that he began to look into that
book in earnest. And what he found was this:
he had faithfully and admiringly studied Homer
and Plato, Virgil and Cicero, Epictetus, Seneca
and Marcus Aurelius, ^Eschylus and Sophocles,
Confucius and Budda, Mahomet and Saadi,
Shakespeare and Bacon, Dante and Rousseau,
Descartes and Spinoza, Kant and Schopenhauer,
Goethe and Herder, Strauss and Buchner, Emer-
584 APPENDIX
son and Carlyle, Ruskin and Arnold, Darwin and
Spencer, Proudhon and Tolstoy. In all of these
is held forth more or less the promise of Life.
But the writer has sorrowfully found that though
these do not indeed offer a stone for bread, yet
they give shelter to the soul such as the dweller in
the slum tenement of the city hath in comparison
with the soil tiller's homestead in the country.
They give indeed food unto the heart, but it is
the watered milk and the larded butter and the
refrigerated beef of the city with its consequent
need of allopath and homeopath, rather than the
creamy milk of the farmer, his pure butter, and
the fatted calf of the country. On Carlyle and
Emerson, on Plato and Aurelius, on Ruskin and
Tolstoy, one can indeed live, but the Accident
policy must be carefully taken out before the
journey, and a goodly supply of all manner of
liniments, sarsaparilla, and otherwise, must ever
be at hand for the mumps and measles of the
soul, which, say what these teachers may, will
not down for other than brief time. Not so,
however, with The Book. For it tells of One
who spake as man never spake, who was the true
bread of life, that which cometh down from the
heavens, of which if a man eat he shall never
hunger.
11.
After such result of lengthy search for wisdom
the writer could well afford to leave his booklets
to the silence from which he had thought they
had perhaps better never have come forth. This
maugre the encouragement from Eminent Critic
One, commendation from Eminent Critic Two,
and assurance of at least four per cent, of immor-
APPENDIX 585
tality from eminent philosopher. But one day
the writer went to a registry of deeds. The
scribal dame in attendance, on seeing his name
on the paper handed her, asked, Is this Mr. Ivan
Panin? I wish to thank you for your Thoughts
I had seen in the Independent, specially for the
one: Three men are my friends, — and she recited
the whole of what had appeared ten years before
in a weekly journal. And every now and then
the writer still receives in papers sent him quota-
tions from the booklets he had long dismissed
even as a hen pecks away her own chicks in due
season.
12.
The writer has thus not succeeded in getting
away from his booklets, and since they no longer
truly represent him, it is right that if quoted he
must be, and judged for them, it be at least for
what he now wishes to be held responsible. Ac-
cordingly he presents here to the reader a selection
from the old with some new. The choice was not
always from within, often rather from without.
When, for example, a wholesale dry goods mer-
chant, on espying the author in his store, comes
to him, takes him by the hand, and with inde-
scribable tenderness speaks out as a greeting,
"To find yourself, you must first lose yourself,"
what can poor author do other than to retain the
wee saying, even though it be not the saying of
one who already has his Christ, but only of one who
as yet only feels after him? Or when a widely
known Unitarian spokesman alights upon "To
seek for virtue is to be virtuous," with exclama-
tion as to its helpfulness, what can poor author
say, but "In with thee, though tlet mine," even
586 APPENDIX
though there be serious question as to its ultimate
truth? The writer, ready to become all things to
all men, has herein let helpfulness be the decisive
consideration. Nor ought he to omit mentioning
that he has a rather vaguish^emembrance of oncfe
coming upon a man who seemed to find much
comfort in ''Hesitation is a sign as much of thfe
abundance of ideas as of their scarcity." lb
proved afterwards that the poor man — stuttered . .
The reader will thus do well not to expect to)
much from the booklet : it is not a feast spread
for any one, but rather a bill of fare, from which
each can choose according to his need.
Lastly a personal word. When 'the writer was
without God and without ho£e f irf the world he
yet had a zeal for what passes as righteousness,
but not, alas! according to kitowledge, with result
rather of bull in china shop. And he has given
some unnecessary pain. This he deeply regrets .
fcs.ar"^*"
J
Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process.
Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide
Treatment Date: Sept. 2009
>^,
PreservationTechnologies
A WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATION
111 Thomson Park Drive
Cranberry Township, PA 16066
(724)779-2111
'M
++•
