■■'i : J I ! GLIMPSES '|, AND I *| EPIGRAMS"! OF i| iOPIEREAD I '^W *-,.lWS'< ,v.^-. *hV .§''' I ' i a I i '- 'i' 'i f S i ? I I I I ! I I I 1 1 I I ! I I ' i I i- :i ' I i I |. CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY THE Joseph Whitmore Barry dramatic library THE GIFT OF TWO FRIENDS OF Cornell University 1934 Cornell University Library PS 2679.R6Z4 Glimpses and epigrams of Opie Read, 3 1924 022 499 739 The original of tliis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924022499739 GLIMPSES AND EPIGRAMS OF OPIE READ Opie Read GLIMPSES AND EPIGRAMS OPIE READ COMPILED BY MARION LOWELL **To he a wetl-favored man is the gift of fortune ^ hut to write and read comes by nature." — Shakespeare. George M. Hill Company Chicago • - New Yprk ^ /^^ Copyright by George M. Hill Company January, 1902 pretace In the heart of the American con- tinent, where a half century ago the pioneer was the hero of the scene and his brave axe, raised against the wilder- ness, was the symbol of his mighty purpose of conquest, has grown and flourished and now stands before the world's admiring recognition a school of literary workers, unique in its char- acteristics, surprising in its success and startling in its promise for the future. No longer do the old communities, in the dignity of their ancient culture, affect disdain of the thinkers and writ- ers of the Great West, cynically prate of their assumed crudities, or treat them with indifference. These are not now ignored in any land of Christen- dom; they are recognized, at last, as vii IPrefacc constituting a remarkable school of lit- erary productiveness — original, power- ful, permanent. The materialism of this new region of America has taken to itself the comradeship of culture-, its enterprise is supplemented by enthusi- asm for the things of the spirit and by high philanthropy in matters of the mind and of morals; here the conspic- uousness of the market place is sub- dued by the increasing successes of letters and the arts. A leader in this recent development is Opie Read, the author, who in the last decade, from the unfailing re- sources of his originality, with strong philosophy and rarest analysis, has delineated the human life throbbing and striving around him; hung his marvelous portrayals before the world; for the subject of his loving art won interest and respect, and mightily helped to vindicate the merit and pos- sibilities of our western literature, viii preface Himself a great personality — a char- acter combining elements of rugged intellectual strength and those of ex- ceeding tenderness and fineness — he is a noble type of the people among whom he dwells. He is distinctively a man of the West— strong, virile, chivalric, gentle, a lover of his kind. The books he has written — "A Ken- tucky Colonel," "The Jucklins," all of them — are signallized by his profound knowledge of human nature, by a style of expression, clear, beautiful, poetic, vigorous, by wise moralizings and philosophic views of life, by the in- spiring motive of revealing to men the goodness of the obscure and the nobility of the lowly. He is a novelist with a lofty purpose; he believes in human nature; he is an optimist, who sees good in all mankind — a fine demo- crat who draws no false distinctions among men, nor credits any one class with all the virtues and charges another ix IPreface with all the faults of humanity. Each of his books is a moral in itself and is so kindly and naturally didactic that the reader receives his instruction, not conscious that he is being taught. In the "Glimpses and Epigrams of Opie Read" is his condensed philoso- phy; here are presented the crystallized conclusions of his wisdom, aided by his human sympathies. This is the book of the author's great thoughts, and none can read it, without learning wisdom, receiving inspiration for bet- ter living and being grateful to the benefactor who created it. Luther Laflin Mills. The author is indebted to the courtesy of Messrs. Laird & Lee, publishers, for the permission of using sayings and epigrams from the following copyright works of Opie Read: The Carpetbagger, Old Ebenezer, My Young Master, The Jucklins, On the Suwanee River, The Colossus, A Tennessee Judge, Emmet Bonlore, A Kentucky Colonel, Len Gansett, Tear in the Cup and Other Stories, Wives of the Prophet. XI The author is indebted to Messrs. Rand, McNally & Co., Publishers, for the permission of using sayings and epigrams from the following copyright works of Opie Reed: In the Alamo, Judge Elbridge, A Yankee From the West, An Arkansas Planter, Up Terrapin River, Waters of Caney Fork. xiu 1Fntro5ttction In presenting these epigrammatic sentences and sayings of the varied characters that appear in the works of Opie Read the writer believes that within the pages of no other book can be found keener wit, finer sentiment, truer pathos or deeper philosophy — for "Great truths are portions of the soul of man, Great souls are portions of Eternity ; Each drop of blood that e'er through true heart ran With lofty message, ran for thee and me." Marion Lowell. XV Glimpses and Epigrams of Opie Read The pulpit was given to man, per- haps; but the first promise of eternal life came through a woman. God rewards the man that seeks to ease an old mother's heart. Youth is often too much lacking in judgment to estimate its surroundings — the dangers that lie about. Talk comes early but sense follows very slowly along. Ambition in the breast of the weak is a sore rankler. In the matter of acquaintanceship, a few minutes can sometimes accom- plish the work of years. ©limpses anO lEpigrams The truth is often hard to tell. It is hard to handle because it is so strange. A woman who devotedly loves a man cannot see how it is possible for the object of her affections to fail in the attempt to win the love of a goddess. Happiness always comes just a little in advance of a disappointment. How ruling is a faith; how it blinds reason, blots out incredulity. Two minutes can be an eternity; two seconds of the soul's existence can be a shoreless sea of time. In the majority of cases it's the edu- cated man who finds it hardest to make an honest living; the man who has a trained mind. It is more respectable in the eye of the world to be a thief than a pauper: Even in grief the most unpretentious of us shallow mortals are sometimes 2 of (S)pfe 1Rea^ proud-^proud that we have a nature that almost refuses to give up a sorrow. The love that we learn to bestow is the easiest love to take away. Faith makes a man religious; will makes him strong. A quick look, a mere glance, the shortest sentences within the range of human expression, but in that short sentence a full book of meaning. Don't fool along with affairs that are hopelessly tangled. Strike at some- thing else. It is a sin to laugh at a trouble. Endurance has its boundary lines. The wise man looks to the future; the weak man hugs the present. Do not destroy your natural manhood by talking to people whose every aim is to be unnatural. 3 Glimpses anD lEpigtams Religion means a life of inward humility and outward obedience. Compliments are almost worthless when they reach none but the flattered ear. To be somebody calls for sacrifice as well as ability and determination. Is wretchedness always tiptoeing in the expectancy of some new pang? Villainy holds a virtue when it tells the truth. There are transactions in which men are bettered by being beaten. There is more of conviction in silent opposites than in noisy arguments. The worry of a strong man is a sign of danger. That is true wisdom not indeed to have nothing to say, but keeping the something that fain would fly forth. 4 of ©pte 1Rea^ It pays to let revenge go. The coarse-grained man holds him- self above the opinion of those far be- low him, but a gentleman would value the good will of a dog. There never was a greater fallacy than the supposition that all men were born equal, inheriting the same amount of original sin and capable of receiv- ing the same degree of moral training. Remember that in an irregularity often lie some of the most precious merits of this life. A man's gone if he lets his so-called friend run to him with discourage- ments. Even dignity sometimes stands in need of advice. The youth whose promise in life em- braces the prospect of a broad scope should be taught that at the end of it 5 Glimpses ant) ^Epigrams all — this alluring rainbow — lies disap- pointment. I hold that the Lord didn't make one man for another man to run over. What is more elastic than a promise to wed? Man may be walking pleasantly with prosperity hooked upon his arm, talk- ing of the deeds they are to perform in common, when up gallops misfortune on a horse, and that is the end. How harder than a rock is human justice Some men might argue that it is difficult if not impossible for a failure to become a success, but all astonishing success has come out of previous fail- ure. A trial of joy is the easiest trial to bear. Pity is not akin to love. 6 of ©pie iReaD Nature despises the weak. Kindness is not always the truth Does nature ever forgive? It is awful to be companionless. We are more meditative when we have been close to nature and that always gives us a sort of spiritual help. The ancient philosophers, counseling contentment of the mind,, had money loaned out at interest. It was no won- der that they could be contented, and, after all, they held the right idea of life: money first and philosophy after- ward. There is true religion in every phase of art. The strong man may be overthrown by the hoard of weaklings that envy has set against him. Ardent yearning is but a spirit of ambitious conquest. 7 Glimpses and lEptdcams ft To resent an insult is sometimes more of a scandal than to let it pass. Earnestness is genius. Next in importance to the discovery of genius itself, is the discovery that genius is picking its way along the briary path of love, lifting a thorny bough in bloom to peep blushingly from a hiding place or boldly to tear through the branches out into the open and in honest resentment defy the won- dering gaze of the common eye. The only progressive force in the human family is earnestness. A trouble aired is lighter for the air- ing. It is the secret trouble that eats the heart. Time and the something that bright- ens hopes and softens fears gradually soothes affliction. A confession of ignorance is a step toward wisdom. 8 of ©pie IReaJ) To enjoy a principle we must share it with a friend. Without a certain moral force there can be no real and lasting achievement. Apathy, the sure follower of enthusi- asm. The soul of mirth is a sly mischief. The devil titters when men argue. A rocking-chair is a remembrancer of a mother's affection. A man is truest to himself when he performs some sort of labor no matter v/hether it is digging in the ground or expounding a philosophy. The province of greatness is not to enshroud but to simplify. Love lights a hundred torches in the soul of man. Without failure the world could never have realized one of its most pre- cious virtues — perseverance. 9 Glimpses and Epigrams A gentleman can, at all times, stand in smiling conquest above a tough. We may tie a man's hands and feet but we cannot bind him so fast that he may not slip into slumber. While a gentleman respects age, he cannot permit age to humiliate him. A marriage tie cannot hold an un- willing mind. There should be a difference between the action of a man who is preaching and one engaged in getting out saw- logs. You must not be a cynic — it is an acknowledgment of a failure. Drink, — the devil's sympathy, prom- ises heaven, but slippers the foot — that treads its way to hell. A close acquaintance with a few masterful books is oftener better than a more pretentious education. 10 of ©pie IReaO How weak it is to sin and how strong to forgive. We sometimes fight against happi- ness. There is virtue in even a rebellious strength. Human nature respects exclusiveness. Aristocracy hampered by extreme stinginess would cut but a poor figure. There must be a titter in hell when at last man, sore and crushed, resolves to do his duty. We often miss an end simply because we are unable to discover it and because we have no one to point it out. There is some little truth in the wild- est of speculation. Nothing can be more charming than the unconscious generosity of simple folk. II ©limpses an& JEpigrams The children of genius are cheapened by frequent parade. In the creation of the great tree there had not been a sound; all has been the noiseless will of God. To accomplish a good we must use the directest means. Hallowed books were written by men who lived when the ungodly sword and the godly pen were at war against each other. Man's first trouble was to lose his title to a garden. Everything teaches us to practice economy; it's the saving clause of life. It is sometimes a very difificult mat- ter to explain the simplest mistake. A consolation that comes with strife consoles but poorly. 12 of pfe IReaC) Falsehood gallops in riotous pleasure when Truth is absent. If a man has once stood as a servant, he is, if at all sensitive, ever afterwards afflicted with a sort of self-repression. Industry is no sure sign of honesty; "Worked like a thief," has become a saying. It is only on the stage that the villain wears his principles stamped upon his countenance. In thoughtless sympathy a great wrong may lie. In impudence there may lie a good intention and a piece of advice that may not be bad. To an unsettled mind a book is a sly poison; the greatest of books are but the records of trouble. If you make an equal of a man who is not your equal he is sure, sooner or later, to insult you. 13 Glimpses and JEpfgtams Some great orators make you laugh at your own sorrow and then compel you to look with grief upon your own laughter. We are never so truthful as when we forget self. Frankness should always have judg- ment behind it. How time does stop and mock a man's impatience! We may learn how to express thought but thought itself must be born in us. Man's mind, you know, has two lobes — one embracing the horse and the other covering the human family and other little things. How many strange things love will make a man say. A man's a fool to leave his wife with y ir 14 a misunderstanding in her head of <^pie IRead Of what use is an ear when you turn it from heart-felt praise to catch the unsympathetic tones of average life? Undue enthusiasm is a human weak- ness. Nature's work, with God stand- ing behind it, is orderly, except when nature destroys, and then there is fury. Sense not being so light of foot has a hard time trying to overtake wordli- ness and there are cases where it does not succeed. If we believed nothing except that which is based upon reason so plain that every man can see it, we would, indeed, be an incredulous people. Love comes once and is ever present afterward. Thought may come as a temptation; to restrain it makes us virtuous. Common ^ense always commands respect, for nearly every rule that gov- 15 Ollmpses and Bpidtams erns the conduct of a man is founded upon it. A rainy day makes a companion dearer to us, just as a dark night makes our fire the brighter. The most persistent explorer of motive is woman. One of man's greatest influences is to inspire silence. A law book without poetry behind it is a heap of helpless dust. There is in the world a genuineness of hospitality, a kindness which makes no calculation of a possible return of favors. Love knows a duty and often it throws away the bow and nobly takes up the yoke. A reformed man may not be the best, but he is never the worst. i6 of ©pie iReaD Ah, trouble has many a mask, which it puts from day to day upon our faces, choosing those with deeper and yet still deeper lines. But a young god of happiness may spring up, with the com- ing of a new surprise, tear off the mask, and with a wing loaned by the angel of love, fan back to youth the aged countenance. To an uneasy mind any suspicion is reasonable. In the coming glory of the day when molten gold is poured from the black furnaces of the night, even the most doubtful must feel the spirit of the world's creator; and it is then that the heart takes fresh confidence. The ignorant are those who have not been taught to govern their emotions. More than half our criticisms are absurd. Why should I presume to criticise something in an atmosphere entirely different from mine? 17 (Bifmpses anD Bpiarams The soul does not steadily abide within us, but wanders hither and thirther, seeking rest; and when it re- turns and lights this lonely temple for a time, men say that we have been in- spired. The mind asks for its ambition; the heart begs for its life. Ah, the glory of being loved. But is there not a greater glory,- the glory of loving? Is not hunger for love a sel- fishness? Said the preacher: If there were but one word to express all the qualities of God I should select the word forgive- ness. What is the sea but the tears that have been shed by the sorrowing chil- dren of men? The sea has its tide and what is that but the emotion, the grief- swell that is still alive in those briny drops? i8 of (S)pie HieaD Reason is the off-spring of wisdom, but it has always been a coward. Nothing is much crueler than to remind one of ingratitude; it is like shooting from behind a rock; it is hav- ing one completely at your mercy. Was there ever a future that was not prepared to take care of itself? And is there a past that can be helped? Then let us fasten' our mind to the present. To be wholly respectable a man must give up many an enjoyment. Having failed to achieve the highest success in a chosen calling we can find contentment in the middle ground of a second choice, for then the heart has had its day of suffering. In matters that tend to lead the heart astray we rarely think until too late, and then each thought is an added pain. 19 ©limpscs an& Epigrams There are always two hopes walking with a doubt, one on each side, but a certainty walks alone. We are sometimes afraid to feel an unaccountable buoyancy lest it may foretell a coming fall. I have known Christians who had prayed for sanctity in the sight of the Lord, to tremble at happiness, afraid that it might be a trap set by the devil. Worry is a bad producer, but a good critic. When the teachings of a man's mother leave him unfinished there isn't a great deal of encouragement for the wife. Admiration of the powerful is felt alike by the savage and the cultivated man. The night is the mother of many an imp that the day refuses to father. 20 of ®pie IRead Do something, see something, feel the throb rather than the dead pressure of life. We are putting too much weight on what we can buy for money, unmindful of the fact that the best things of this life are free. Ah, but the trouble is we don't seem to need the free things. When we stand in real want of them we die. Love may be a divine essence, calm as God-ordained peace, when it flows from the heart, or it may be — wolfish. Behind an error of the heart there stands a sophist, a Libanius, to offer a specious consolation — a voice ever ready to say, "It was not your fault; you do not create your own desires, neither can you control them." A man looks upon his wife as a part of himself; and a man will. lie even to himself. 21 Glimpses and lEpigtams When a man has once been a "serv- ant" of the people, he is never satisfied to fall back among the powerless "mas- ters." There is no greater bore than the well-balanced man. He wears us out with his evenness. The mind is God-given, and every good book bears the stamp of divinity. Books are the poor man's riches — the tramp's magnificent coach. With them every man is a king; without them every man is a slave. I had rather live in prison where there are books, than in a palace destitute of them. They reduce a dreary and barren hour into a minute of ripe delight. Any tie of life that holds us to some one, although at times its straining may fall little short of agony, is better far than slip-shod freedom from re- sponsibility. 22 ot ©pie "Keab Love is sometimes invisible as well as blind. Mysticism is too grand to be grasped at once. It is the key to all wisdom; and there can be no sorrow when all men are just and wise, for justice re- lieves the wants of the body and wis- dom will provide against grief. There is something new in your eyes, something I never saw there be- fore — so tender that your bantering words seem strangely to belie you. Have you been gazing into sweet coun- tenances? Or perhaps Doctor, you have caught the reflection of the first light in a baby's eyes. Do you know what is the noblest office that poetry exercises upon life? It prevents the marriage of many a man and woman; it demands love first, and ':hen accepts marriage. A confidence is more valuable when we have fought to restrain it. 23 Glimpses and ]£ptgrams Behind all mystery there is power. How dear stupid people are — they are sometimes our dearest ones. About the only thing they can do is to make themselves dear. Art is a selfishness; and so is every high-born longing in the breast of man. Philanthropy itself cannot escape the accusation. To give to the needy flat- ters the conscience. It is always interesting to hear what a stranger has to say of one's old aquaintances — if he be inclined to say mean things. While men may build the houses and make the laws, it is the whim that makes the social atmosphere. Who of us is appointed to set up the standard and gauge of naturalness? Plain truths are tiresome. They never lend grace to a conversation. A 2.A of ©pie lRea& truth, to be interesting, must be whim- sical or so blunt that it jolts Nothing can be madder than misled labor. Wisdom lends its conceit to the aged. Women are the first to show the con- tempt with which wealth regards poverty, the first to turn with resent- ment upon former friends who have been left in the race for riches, the first to feel the overbearing spirit that money stirs. A vigorous nation buys and sells and fights; but a nation that is threatened with decay paints and begs. Gentleness maybe a passion that has sunk into a dreamy sleep. However much we may respect our own necessity to tell a lie, we do not recognize the necessity in other people. 25 (Glimpses anb Eptgrams The lake seemed now a deep-blue elegy, now a limpid lyric, varying in hue with the shifting of a luminous fleece-work, far above. At best, happiness is only the bright side of trouble. I hate a man that sneers at my coun- try; I pity the fool who says that any responsibility is too great for us. All thrones trembled when the Declaration was signed. A political contest would coarsen a seraph. The heart cannot express a geat joy until it has felt a deep sorrow. Things that we most doubt sometimes come to pass, and then we wonder why we should have questioned them. There is always a ruffian standing behind a tree in the dark, with club lifted, on tip-toe, to knock an ambition on the head. Ambition is a drunken- 26 oT (S)pte iReat) ness, but man is noblest when he is fired by another sort of intoxication — when he forgets himself in his love for some other human being. Things that come to us without a fight are not worth having. The world's only glory has come out of battle. The Cross was useless till blood was poured upon it. It's a curse to be poor. It gives no opportunity to be generous, sneers at truth and calls virtue a foolish little thing. It is the philosopher, with money out at interest, that smiles upon the contentment and blessedness of the poor man. Judgement, hope's cold critic. The lines of art and the lines of bread are rarely found on the same page. The coward ever seems to fear the light of an open eye quite as much as he does the gleaming of a weapon. 2^ OUmpses and Bpfdtams Love — souls waving in a perfumed atmospliere, touching each other. The sea sounded the deeper notes of its endless opera. What is it to die? Wise men prove to their own satisfaction that there is no life after death, but where is the proof that shall satisfy me? I want their proof. They have none. In some distant place where the land was dry a shower of rain had fallen, and the air was quickened with the coming of that dusty, delicious smell, that reminiscent incense which more than the perfume of flower or shrub taijses us back to the lanes and the sweet loitering places of youth. The love that we learn to feel is just as strong and is calmer and often sweeter than the love that leaps out from an ambush and smites us. 28 ot ©pie iReaD Let us not prattle a resentment in palliation of a duty neglected. This is an age in which a man may not tell most truth but when he de- mands that most truth shall be told. Realism has been taken up as a fad. But what is more real than the beauti- ful? Self-made men rarely worship the past, for to them the past was hard and gnarly. Nothing is more inspiring than to see innocence gazing upon nature. On this earth, the strongest of all claims is the sentimental claim; it js delicious to know that some one has a sentimental sight draft against you — a judgment note of the heart. Our happiness lies not in what others think, but in what we feel. 29 (Bltmpses and Bpigtams We are mighty apt to believe that there's great wisdom mixed up in a mind we can't understand. Let a preacher mystify us and we cry, "In- spired!" You can always gamble on a woman's pride standing square against her inter- est. As long as the spirit of the child re- mains with the man, he loves the country. All children are fond of the woods. The deep shade holds a mys- tery. The marriage veil is sometimes the winding sheet of art. The gospel of content builds poor- houses. The teacher may not be the father of a thought held by the young but he is the guardian of it. How blinder than a bat in the sun- light is human faith. How much proof, 30 of ©pie IReaD and how much argument are required in a court of law, and yet in spiritual things how thin a pretext man believes to be a God-sent truth. Trouble paints strong pictures. Ah, but the paint eats the canvas. Trouble uses no soft oil in its art. The domain of silence is free. There no claims are marked off; a privilege awaits every comer. I don't believe that the Creator found it essential to set up an opposite to himself. Love — Ah, sweet and perfumed poison, beyond the skill of the chem- ist's analyzing eye: mystic contagion, how defiant of all self-summoned power to eradicate. Older than the first gray hair on the head of new-made man, and yet with a youth younger than the first breath of a child; the scoff of the cold 31 ©Umpses an& Epigrams in heart; the torturer of the strong; the despair of the wise; the hope of the fool; the glory of the world. Ah, after this life, what then? To be remembered. But what serves this purpose? A perpetuation of our inter- ests. After you, your son — the man dies, but the name lives. No one of any sensibility can look calmly on the extinction of his name. Trade is the realization of logic, and success is the fruit of philosophy. People wonder at the achievements of a man whom they take to be ignorant; but that man has a secret intelligence somewhere, and if they could discover it they would imitate him. The states- man is but a business man. Behind the great general is the nation's back- bone, and that backbone is a financier. Over our gravest misfortunes we do not brood with words, but with pic- tures. 32 of ©pie IReaD Behind one's own words is a flimsy place to hide; they are a lattice-work and men see through them. Ah, many days must fall upon a sad memory before it is sweetened. Humor is the cream that rises to the surface of the "milk of human kind- ness." Out of culture may come a pale beauty, but a poet to be immortal must be mad! Poverty is the only really shrewd fellow, the only genuine critic of life. How hallowed and sun-glinted that school life now seems to me. Many a grave has been opened and closed, the roots of many a greenbrier is embedded in the ashes of a heart that was once alive with fire, the fierce passion of life. The sun is still shining, and the arch of God's many-hued lithograph is still seen in the sky, and hearts have fire 33 Glimpses anO Epigrams shut within them, but I wonder if the sun is as bright as it was in the long ago, if the rainbow is as purple, if the fire in the heart is as glowing. Ah, and I know that my grandchildren, in the far away years to come, will lean feebly upon the gate and wonder if the world is as full of light as it was. Every emotion you have felt you may know has been felt by other men. It is this that makes nearly all poetry seem old; it is this that sends true poetry to the human heart. The ugly are not truer than the beau- tiful. Fortune is vested with a peculiar dis- crimination. It appears more often to favor the unjust than the just. Ability and a life of constant wooing do not always win success, for luck, the fac- totum of fortune, often bestows in one minute a success which a lifetime of stubborn toil could not have achieved. 34 ot pte 1ReaD Mathematics was the invention of man, but speech was God-given. Among those who have failed, we often find the highest type of manhood. A severe countenance is not a com- munication from God, while laughter might bespeak His holy presence. If God is always frowning, why have we flowers and streams that flash and sing in the sunlight? Man must guard against trivial things, it is true; but good humor is not trivial — it is the voice of health. Justice ought to be stronger than friendship or even blood relationship. Sincerity expects a reward, as a rule, and when a man is sincere at his own expense, there is something about him to admire. In the sturdy and stubborn affairs of life, there is no hope for the man who believes that newness of expression is 35 Glimpses an& Epigrams an essential grace. If his originality is striking, men will call him a crank; if it is not striking they will say he is dull. To heal the sick is the most noble of all arts — one that our Saviour prac- ticed. There must be a reserve force behind all forms of art. It is art to conceal a strength, to create the impression that you are not doing your best. A man thinks more of you in the long run if you compel him to bow to you than if you permit him to put his arm on your shoulder. It is better to find contentment, even in a dream, than to snap our nerves in two, straining to reach an impossible happiness. If a man is disposed by nature to do right, the carrying out of his intentions does not require a constant effort. ■ 36 of ©pie 1Rea5 Flattery is an exaggeration, but can the most gifted flatterer exaggerate the brightness of the sun? Ah, how long success lies waiting, and how rusty it has grown when some- times we find it! He] who has suffered in childhood, and who in after life has walked hand in hand with disappointment, and is then not sensitive, is a brute. But was there ever a man who, in the very finest detail, lived a life of perfect truth and freedom from all selfishness? One, and He was nailed to the cross, to die — for liars and thieves. Your city belle may be cold, but she cannot hope to rival the imperious chilliness of the backwoods queen. The rough homage of the man with his trousers in his boots inspires more of contemptuous loftiness in the mind of the country belle f;han the polished 37 Glimpses and Bptgrams worship of a cavalier could instill in the heart of a beauty celebrated by two continents. The first frost had fallen but it had been so light that the cotton stalk seemed to stand in surprise, not know- ing whether to curl up its leaves in obedience to the warning chill or to hold up its head and open its top boll, but the sycamore tree, more easily dis- couraged, threw down its leaves and waved its bare arms in the evening's long-drawn sigh. An actor is of the present and a writer may be of the future. I had rather stand high as the ex- ponent of any art that I might choose than to have all the money that could be heaped about me. Shakespeare — the Bible's wise though sometimes sportive child. 38 of ©pie iReao Two great teachers, one a man of books, of engaging fancy and bright illustration; the other a child of nature — a man who can feel the pulse of a leaf, who can hear the beating heart of a tree. We are never tired of a man so long as we can laugh at him. Women may be persistent but they e quick to recognize the impossible. are An acknowledgement of a fault is not within itself virtue. The fool's recourse is to call himself a fool, to up- braid himself, curse himself and then in graciousness to pardon himself. You might as well reason with a rattle- snake, striking at you — might as well seek to temporize and argue with a dog drooling hydrophobic foam, as to tell the human heart what it ought to do. Reason is a business matter and it can make matches, but it cannot make love. 39 Glimpses an5 Epigrams Words are the trademarks of the goods stored on the mind, and a flashy expression proclaims the flimsy trinket. She walked in advance of me holding a light high above her head, and how like an angel she looked, the darkness parting to let her pass. Her hair was as black as the outskirts of a moonless night. Rose-bushes, heavy with the senti- ment of June, and wet with the sweet moisture of a moon-lighted night, drooped over the garden fences. The mocking-bird, sleepless creature, sang to his mate, who, quiet in the contem- plation of the cares of approaching maternity, sat on her nest. Can we commit an innocent error, an error that will lie asleep and never rise up to confront us? Repetition may make a sentiment trite, but words spoken to encourage 40 of (S>pie lRea& an anxious heart do not lose their freshness. To a thoughtful mind there is more of interest in decay than in progress. "Decline and Fall" is a greater book than could have been written on the "Origin and Rise." And it was oratory that spread the great news of redemption — the native force of Peter and the cultivated grace of Paul. Yes, the men of order and of the text book condemned Him to death, but borne upon the eloquence that flew from the heart of impulsive man, His name was carried to the ends of the earth. Most any man can support a sorrow, but the man who can restrain a joy has shown the completest victory over self. Let a man get sick and he feels that the world is against him; let him get well and wear poor clothes, and he will 41 OUmpses an& Epigrams find that the world do^n't think enough of him to set itself against him the world doesn't know him at all. A sort of self-education makes a man adventurous in his talk, when a more systematic training might inflict him with the dullness of precision. Youth and love — when we grow out of one and forget the other, there's not much left to live for. To desire commendation is of itself a merit. Once joke with a woman, and her impudence — which she mistakes for wit — leaps over all differences in ages. Genius is the bloom that bursts out at the top of commonplace humanity. The victim of a king's displeasure is not insignificant. 42 ot ©pie 1Rea& We haven't long to stay here, and nothing sweetens our sojourn so much as forgiveness. "Madam," he said, "all that a mar- ried woman wants with a church is to hit her husband on the head with it." The man who is not ready to assume will never accomplish anything, and from a lower station must be content to contemplate the success of those who were less delicate. To elevate the stage is to make it natural. Scenery often serves to em- phasize an emptiness. It all depends on the way you go at a thing. Any calling can be made offensive. Just as a man thinks a woman is stronger than a lion she tunes up and cries. 43 Glimpses ait& Bptgrams There are times when a man would be excusable for being the echo of the devil. At some time of life, we are all enigmas unto ourselves; the mystery of being, the ability to move, and the marvelous something we call emotion, startles us and drives us into a specu- lative silence. Soft, but forced, tones of kindness burn worse than harshness. Flattery was intended for women, but they don't look for it as much as men do, and are not so deeply affected when they find it. The real blessings of this life come through justice and not through im- pulsive mercy. The sternly practical have termed imagination a disease, a branch of mistletoe marking the unsoundness of the tree. 44 of ®pie IReaC) There is an atmosphere that pro- motes gallantry, breeds a gentle pride in self; and that gentle pride inspires generosity. It gets mighty tiresome when a man is compelled to do everything except something he feels like doing. I don't know of anything more un- reasonable than a warm-weather cold. It's like a fellow with a high voice, singing out of tune in church. How quick the heart is to give all nature a tint of its own hue. Who is so frenzied a religionist as the man that has been an infidel; who is so visionary a spiritualist as one that has turned from materialism? The world seems to be holding its breath, waiting for something to hap- pen; it always appears so when there is a lull in the air just at sunrise. 45 Glimpses and JEpigtams A simple kindness of heart is a wis- dom, while viciousness, though it may be possessed by a philosopher, is a stupid ignorance. In my mind a satir- ist is the most despicable creature that lives. And history teaches us that he dies abjectedly. Addison, holding until the last his gracious faculties, died a beautiful death; Dean Swift rotted at the top. That part of a man which tantalizes his fellow man, is soonest to decay. The sting of a wasp dies last, but the sting of a man dies first. We sometimes wound a life-long friend with a word that would have no effect upon a mere acquaintance. Any woman can learn to play a piano, to speak Italian and to make an attempt at painting, but every woman cannot be a good companion. Reason, when slower than action, is a miserable cripple. 46 of ©pie IReaO The best of us have cause to fear the man we have placed too much confi- dence in. We have made him our master. One of the penalties of wealth is that a rich man is forced constantly to fumble about in the dark, feeling for some one whose touch may inspire con- fidence.. Books are the records of human suf- fering. Every great book is an ache from a heart and a pain-throb from a brain. A quick judgment is nearly always wrong, yet it is better than a slow judg- ment that allows itself to be imposed upon. What an error it is to suppose that one can actually read character. At times and in some men an under- appraisal of self is a virtue, but more 47 ©Umpses an& JEpigrams often it is a crime committed against one's own chance of prosperity. The people's candidate is the man who loudest avows his fitness for the office. We don't want brain enough to cover the heart like cold ashes heaped on a fire. Unless a man has something to lift, he can never find out how strong he is. A weak man uses a weak word in apology for a weak character. Isn't it strange that a woman is so bold with her husband and so backward with her son — about expressing her mind? Perhaps it isn't intended that the noblest shall always be the happiest. An orator can be trained down to a point too fine — it may weaken his pas- sion, dim his fire with too much judg- 48 of ©pie iRead ment, hem him in with too much criticism and compel him to dodge. I think that it was Greek art that kept Ben Jonson from creating great char- acters. The perfection of Greek form rendered it impossible for him to give us anything save talking moralities. Traveling unquestionably gathers knowledge, but the man who reads has ever a feeling that he is the proper critic of the man who has simply ob- served. Happiness will not bear a close in- spection; to be flawless it must be viewed from a distance — we must look forward to something longed for, or backward to some time remembered. The public is greedy for scandal, but looks with suspicion and coldness upon a correction. Analysis is the dagger that lets the life-blood out of fiction's heart. Ana- 49 ©limpses anD JEptgrams lyze a passion — pick it to pieces, and it blows away. We must not analyze an oil painting, but must be satisfied with art — with deception, for all art has been termed sublime deception. We all have a certain aim, a certain idealistic end to accomplish. In youth the bright mark is almost within reach, but as we grow older, the mark, less bright, recedes. Those who fancy that they have reached the mark find after a while that it is a delusion. Let us say that sometimes the devil giveth and the Lord taketh away. How many people hear the songs of birds and are too dull to be thrilled. A wild vine, when it is taken from the woods and planted in the yard, where it is watered and cultivated, grows very fast; faster than if it had first come up in the yard. 50 A man is often contented with his misery and proud of his disgrace. Why is a man so weak of decision and so strong of regret? Sometimes a beginning is so delight- ful that we are afraid to look toward the end. If there comes a time when men are worth their salt and women are worth their pepper humanity will be well seasoned. Ah! how many hearts are aching for a love that the law has edged about with Duty! The attractive fades, but how eternal is the desolate! A new community worships material things; and if it pays tribute to an idea, it must be that idea which ap- peals quickest to the eye — to the com- moner senses. SI Olimpses an5 lEptgrams Money professes great love for the law, and not without cause. The rich man thinks that the law is his; and the poor man says, "It was not made for me. Our friends mark out a course for us, and if we depart from it and do some- thing better than their specifications call for, they become our enemies. It is not necessary to plant the tree in order to enjoy the fruit. The man who does not love the woods would seek to crucify a god. Poetry and soul do not demand that we shall live there, but they do enforce a reverence and a love for the grandeur of a tree, and the beauty of a flower that seems to have stolen away from the gaze of the vulgar. The city roars a groan, but the leaves sweetly mur- mur; we chase a dollar along the side- walk, but in the deep heaven of the woods we feel the presence of God. 52 of (^pie 1Rea& Nature held up a pink rose in the east, and the hill-tops were glowing, while the valleys were yet dark. I cannot conceive of a much grander pleasure than to be able to speak well of a man. Human nature is too much inclined to cross a muddy street to tell a man of a fault, rather than to stop him on the sidewalk and tell him of a virtue. No matter who drops out, the affairs of this life go on just the same. A man becomes so identified with a busi- ness that people think it couldn't be run without him. He dies, and the business — improves. We have our struggles, but, like the hero of Thermopylae when told that the enemy's arrows were so thick that they obscured the sun, we must congratulate ourselves that we can fight in the shade. When misfortunes stand thick, we can knock more of them down at one 53 Glimpses and Spigtams blow. Samson could not have killed so many of his enemies had they been scattered. Marriage is a noisy failure or a quiet blessing. The poets have said that the sweetest music makes no sound. Who is so humble as a proud woman that loves? Our friends instead of being able to help us, are themselves in need of aid. I have acquired one great piece of knowledge, which, had I not received a regular training, might have seemed to me as the arrogance of ignorance, and that is the fact that profound knowledge hurts the imagination. Of course I had read this — but ascribed it to prejudice. I know now, however, that it is true; and I would take care not to over-educate the boy with an S4 of (S)pfe 1Rea& instinct for art. His technique would destroy his creation. And take it in the matter of writing. I believe in cor- rectness, but it is a fact that when a writer becomes a purist he conforms but does not create. After all, I be- lieve that what's within a man will come out regardless of his training. There may be mute, inglorious Mil- tons, but Art struggles for expression. The German woman worked in a field and had no books, but she brought tears to the eyes of the Empress, with a little poem, dug up out of the ground. To forgive the weakness of a sin is sometimes a strength; but sometimes forgiveness is of itself a weakness, almost a sin. Bread may be the staff of life, but art is the wing of the soul. We are made narrow-minded by our surroundings. When a man is gloomy he thinks that the world has gone 55 (Blimpses and JBviQvnms wrong, that life is a mistake, that creation took the wrong shoot from the beginning; but let him be prosperous and in good health, and he is then ready meekly to acknowledge that God is right. Self-ridicule, the keen scalpel that lances our swollen prominence, that cuts through the skin and shows how watery is the blood of our own narrow yearning. Man may reason and find conversion in the light of his own argument; ideas, like a flight of birds, may fill this modern air; science, thought, ex- actness of speech, precision of conduct, a mountain top of intellectual training may be reached— and yet, a strong man's love, fashioned unconsciously and then suddenly electrified with life, is as much of a madness as it was when the breath of Almighty creation had just been breathed upon the earth. 56 of ®pte 1Rea^ There is more religion in a bird's nest, in a shade sanctified by pure air, than there is in a thousand churches; there is more of the praise of God in the song of one bird than there is in a million human hallelujahs. At last, worn out with serving as pall-bearer to his own dead spirit, he lay asleep — beflowered, roses on his breast, a broken heart perfumed. Ignorance always credits itself with shrewdness. If we die suddenly, at night, dream- ing a sweet dream, we may continue the dream through eternity — heaven. If we die dreaming a troubled dream, we may go on dreaming it after death — hell Then let us strive to live con- ducively to pleasant dreams. Winning is easy to the man. that wins. 57 Olimpses anb Epigrams A tender conscience has no more show in business than a peg-leg has in a foot-race. There is no genius except it be whole-souled desire and persistent e£fo4-t. The genius works late. When he goes to bed the oil in his lamp is low. He sometimes works with the energy of despair, and at last sees suc- cess through a mist of tears. The humorous air is a stumbling block in the way of character reading. A man can hide so much behind a comical expression that his true nature cannot be seen. A woman has a contempt for the hope of a man. She is a materialist; she wants immediate results. One may have ever so hairy an ear, and yet the gossip of the neighborhood will force its way in 58 ot ©pie 1Rea^ It is to fiction that we owe 'some of our greatest blessings. The refine- ment of Greece rested not upon her realities, but upon her fancies, for all her elegant realities grew out of her great fancies. A rough man can tell you a fact — rough men are full of facts — but he cannot give you an ennobling fancy. In an adjustment of the human heart's estate, to receive only friend- ship in return for a loan of love is a painful compromise. A glimpse of the dawn-couch, pur- ple with the sun's resurrection. It is not by design that men become philosophers; for to be a true philoso- pher, one must have suffered. While profound men grieve and waste away over a crushing loss, the man of simple faith finds rest. 59 ©limpses anD Epigrams He held the position of professional humorist, and thus he spoke of his call- ing: "Humor requires quick descrip- tion — a portrait made by one scratch of the pen; an insight as sudden as a flash, and yet must all along show a profound respect for the reader's im- agination. You must permit a man to see a point, yet you must not show it to him. You must leave him under the impression that he is a discoverer. Straight literature is altogether differ- ent. You can yield to mood; you can be gay or sad, light or heavy, prolix or condensed; but the humorist-^the un- fortunate painter whose colors must always be bright — kills his gentler im- pulses, and tickles the public's nose with the perfumed feather of a red bird." Patience is the very perfection of in- dustry. A man needs something beyond his needs; there are times when we look 60 of ®pie iRead for something aside from our own natural forces; there are wants which nature was ages in supplying. Look at tobacco. The Greeks missed it as they sat deep in the discussion of their philosophy: They did not know what it was they were missing — but they knew that it was something and I know it was tobacco. Poetic possessions are the richest to one who has a soul. There were sounds, the creaking of wagons and the tones of man, speaking to caution his horses, going down a steep hill, but these sounds served only as the punctuation marks of silence. The mind could exist and be observ- ing even if the heart were dead* Some of the world's great men are heartless. A man to be great in the esteem of the public must be cold — he must con- 6i C5limpses anO Epigrams stantly keep his mind on himself, must sacrifice friends, smother emotion — he must kill his heart. There is no grasp strong enough to hold a love that has beea given as a duty. Love is sublimely selfish; it doesn't take kindly to duty. Duty is a yoke and love wants a bow. We all have two selves, one self does wrong, and the other self, which is a sort of indulgent parent, suffers over it. A wise man is always a little afraid that his friend may follow his advice. The man who keeps his emotions and his impulses under too much con- trol, is a hypocrite. That dear fallacy, that silken toga in whicH many of us have wrapped our- selves — the belief that a good score at college means immediate success out in the world. 62 of ©pie 1Rea& Fancy always playing must play well at times. In the country where the streams are so pure that they look like strips of sunshine, where the trees are so ancient that one almost stan4s in awe of them, where the moss, so old that it is gray, and hanging from the rocks in the ravine looks like venerable beards growing on faces that have been har- dened by years of trouble — in such a country, even the most slouching clown, walking as though stepping over clods when plowing where the ground breaks up hard, has in his un- tutored heart a love of poetry. He may not be able to read — may never have heard the name of a son of gen- ius, but in the evening, when he stands on a purple "knob," watching the soul of day sink out of sight in a far-away valley, he is a poet. It is in the love we give that we find our happiness. 63 <5Umpse0 an& Epigrams With reason you catch a reasoner here and there, but the people are caught by entertainment, by word- flights, by jolts, by unexpected utter- ances. Reason with the average man and you lead him to surmise what you are going to say, and then he loses respect for your intelligence. But pour out words upon him, dazzle him with pictures, and he thinks that he sees an inspiration. Ah, the old road, older than the lane, the first pathway made by the foot of man, bestrewn with the human heart's first tender foibles, with the lamps of man's earliest fancy burning here and there and with darkness lying cold between them — the uneven road of love. We must observe form and recognize the rules which good taste has drawn, but after all the finest form and the most nearly perfect rule is an inborn 64 of ©pie iReaD judgment. The merest accident may thrill a dull man with genius. Nobody has so good an argument as the scold. What a reproach it is to a woman to see a man think! She must stir him up, scatter his faculties. No matter how you may be situated, remember that you are not a pioneer; no human strain is new. A novel-reader is never wholly a bad man, for to be a lover of novels he must enter into the soul of the work. He must sympathize with the afflicted and rejoice with the happy character. To be young and to place the proper estimate upon it — how magnificent! Inspirations have their own time, and we should be thankful for their coming rather than to carp at their lateness. 65 ©Umpses ano Epigrams Any heart that wants to be forgiven is one of God's hearts. Art drops on its worn knees and prays to business, and literature begs it for a mere nod. In this world there are harder hearts than hearts of oak, for through the oaken heart there flows a gentle sap that tips with velvet buds the winter- stiffened twigs. The shrewd business man, whose success we all admire, cannot, in jus- tice to his business, carry absolute truth in one hand and a price-list in the other. A frown trailing the skirts of a smile. Gratitude — a rarer quality than gen- ius. Nothing is wonderful. The mere fact that a thing happens proves that there is about it no element of the 66 ot ©pte iRcnt> marvelous. The strange thing is the one that does not occur. When it does occur it ceases to be strange. I am not so much of a scientist that I am a fool. No, but you are so much of a fool that you are not a scientist. In associating with the young the old often catch the spirit of youth. The young man helps the old man to think of pleasant things. An old tree is grander when a sapling grows beside it. Sweetness, purity and modesty — the Divine Master could not give to a woman three graces more beautiful. Boys are taught to be honorable and girls are taught to be virtuous. And the boy is permitted to be honorable without being virtuous. So therein lies the social story of this life. Religion, pure and holy though it may be, must keep pace with the 67 (Blimpses an& JEpigrams shrewdness and the intelligence of the world in order that it may protect itself against the snares of the world. Inno- cence is not safety; wisdom alone is protection. Faith is well enough, but simple faith is the reverse of reason; faith bats its eyes like an owl in the glare of a light. This neighborhood was very much like the rest of the world-lacking heart only in places. A mother may plan the marriage of her daughter, for that is romantic, but she looks with an anxious eye upon the marriage of her son, for that is serious. American aristocracy is the most grinding of all aristocracies, for the reason that a man's failure to reach its grade is attributable to himself alone. Inspiration is not of constant flame; the fire dies down, and the coals are covered with ashes, and it blazes not 68 ot ®pte TRcnif until more fuel is brought. Blow not the coals; wait until the fueldoth come. True rhetoric is the voice of God. The devil deadens our senses with a sweet perfume that he may better steal the soul. We meet many persons and become well acquainted with them, and yet never feel that they belong to our at- mosphere. They are not necessary to the story of our lives, and yet that atmosphere of which they are not really a part, would not be wholly complete without them. They stand ready for our side talks; sometimes they even flip a sentiment at us, we catch it, trim it with ribbons and hand it back. They keep it; we forget. Experience doesn't always make us wise. It sometimes tends to weaken rather than to make us strong. It might make freshness stale; it is a thief 69 Glimpses anD Epidtams that steals enthusiasm; it enjoins caution at the wrong time. The night was hot, the slow air fum- bled among the leaves. Far in the sultry west was an occasional play of lightning, the hot eye of day peeping back into the sweltering night. Moonbeams fell through the window, a ladder of light upon which a spirit might well descend to earth. Sometimes the soul is impatient of the body's dogged hold on life, and steals away to view its future domain, to draw in advance upon its coming freedom — now lingering, now swifter than a hawk, — and then it comes back and we say that we have been absent- minded. Exact memory is not the vital part of true culture; it is the absorption of the idea rather than the catching of the words. 70 of ©pie IReaD Sometimes a soothing spirit which the sun could not evoke from its bound- less fields of light comes out of the dark bosom of a cloud. A bright day promises so much, so builds our hopes, that our keenest disappointments seem to come on a radiant morning, but on a dismal day, when nothing has been promised, a straggling pleasure is acci- dentally found and is pressed closer to the senses because it was so unex- pected. The noblest quality of man is mercy; the most godly quality of man is justice. A woman's duty is not so clearly marked cut now as it used to be. As long as man was permitted to mark it out her duty was clear enough — to him. Successful men are often niggardly of advice, while the prattling tongue nearly always belongs to failure. Therefore, when a successful man does advise, heed him. 71 Glimpses ant) Bpigrams Happy is the man of old books. He hears voices whose sweetness years cannot destroy, whose bright eyes the dust of ages cannot dim. It requires a good deal of brain to protect the heart. In a man's surprise is a reflex of his ignorance. What is art? A semblance of truth more beautiful than the truth. The lover who seeks to be liberal is a hypocrite, a sneak-thief robbing his own heart. The stake of the past and the gibbet of the present are emblems of martyr- dom. It's raining now, rhythmic, poetry — all poets have been as water. I will class them for you. Keats, the rivulet; Shelley, the brook; Byron, the creek; Tennyson, the river; Wordsworth, the 72 of ©pie IReaD lake; Milton, the bay; and Shakes- peare, the waters of all the world, the sea. When we meet one with a noble pur- pose we feel stronger, though we may not know what that purpose is. There is a difference between forget- ting a thing and never having known it. But how natural it is for a man who never knew to say, "I forget." "My dear" is the first link in the chain of bondage Christ died to save every woman Snyhow, and every man who does the best he can. How rare it is that we find a soothing truth. When I was a child, I had to lie to protect the skin on my back, and I imagined that truth was a set of stiff bristles rising up to invite punishment. n Glimpses an& Bptgtams Even a trick that causes a poor heart to laugh is better than many a cool virtue that goes about rebuking sin. When a man becomes known as a good fellow the roadway that leads to success is closed to him. When favors are to be distributed they are given to other people. We may be modest observers of action, but we are egotistic readers of motive. How complete a scoundrel a man may be, and yet hold the admiration of honest women. It is pleasant to be among other peo- ple who have not caught from the world the trick of concealing their feelings and who love simple music. A lonesome song is the spirit of patience. There is always some sort of hope as long as we are interested in ourselves. 74 of ©pie IReaJ) At the threshold of a new venture, we look back upon the hopes that led us into other undertakings and upon many a failure we bestow a look of tender but half reproachful forgiveness. You have a habit of silence that en- forces respect for your talk. A talka- tive man utters many an unheeded truth. The poet is not the only man who really lives, — those who worship with him, live with him. The caves and nooks and quiet pools that lay along the stream are dreamful; there was not a mighty rock nor bold surprising bluff to startle one with its grandeur, but at the end of every view there was the promise of a resting place and never was the fancy led to disap- pointment. Now gurgle and drip, now perfect calm, the elm leaf motionless, the bird dreaming. And had history marched down that quiet vale a thou- 75 Glimpses an& Epigrams sand years ago and tinged the water with the blood of man, how sweetly verse would sing its beauty, from what distances would come the poet and the artist, the rich man seeking rest — all would flock to marvel and to praise. Ah, we care but little for what nature has done, until man has placed his stamp upon it. Selfishness, extreme, unyielding sel- fishness, is the essential oil of success. If a poet would look to his fame let him die when there is no other news. If hope worked half the time there wouldn't be one-third as much trouble in the world. Love itself is a divine outlaw. It tramples upon reason. Man has sought to regulate it, but he cannot. The cynic has striven to kill it with ridi- cule, but it has seized the cynic and 76 of ©pie iReaD has made his soul beg for mercy. God does not restrain it, for it is a part of Himself. Unless we look for cares they some- times pass unobserved and unfelt. The angels smile when we are kind to a bird. A woman will pardon a thing that's rash where she would look with scorn upon a gentle stupidity. A man may stand shoulder to shoul- der with the law and yet wound his own conscience. Love does not cast out fear;- love in- vites fear; fear is love's companion. What infatuation did common sense ever sanction? The man who could love wisely was a mere arithmetician, a shrewd figurer, an exactor of weights and measures; the man with a deeper, warmer, purer soul loved heedlessly. 17 Glimpses and Epigrams How natural it is that the stupid should be dignified? If a man be not vain, it is hard for him to believe that a beautiful woman loves him. An old scholar looks with dread upon any sort of change. What is that something which pilots men into the achievement of success? It cannot be the mind for wise men often strive in vain for recognition. There is bravado in confessing to the world, but confessing to a friend is a virtue. Nature is a thoughtless spendthrift; and love is a spendthrift; the Galilean was a spendthrift, for at the hearts of all men he threw His jewels — the rubies and the diamonds of his love In the eyes of society, of the law, he was a vagabond, and I love him for that. He was the truest of all Bohe- 78 ot ©pie IReaO mians, a wandering genius, looking for a place to rest His head. He touched a vice and glorified it into a virtue He was not looking for the economical, the righteous; He frowned upon rules; conscious virtues. And instead of making me a bigot, it has made me liberal. I can scarcely bring myself to blame a man who does evil. I feel that it is not entirely his fault, for the love that I feel has been withheld from him. Honesty among men is much more rare than virtue among women. A man can do physical labor and, when he puts his tools aside, speak of subjects that annoy him; a man engaged in mental work cannot put his tools aside. It is difficult to look through the daz- zle and estimate the intelligence of a queen. 79 Glimpses an& Bptgtams There has never been a great contem- poraneous literature, for the narrow lines of the critic run into the past. It takes us almost a generation to dis- cover that a writer is original; at first we call him crude, wanting in art; but afterward we may find that what we took to be a lack of finish is a new art, stronger, bolder than the old art. In nearly all wisdom there is a tinc- ture of cynicism. Work has its degrees, idleness has not. We labor hard or easily, but when we are idle we simply rust. To listen and to muse was more rest- ful than to sleep. The first conscious- ness of life could not have been sweeter; the low roof, the patter, the luxurious bed and the soft air, scented with the midnight fragrance of the woods. Give conscience time and it will find an easy bed, and yet the softest bed 80 of Qvie IReat) may have grown hard ere morning comes. A luxury brings with it the memory of a privation. Love is by turns a sweet and anxious selfishness, while friendship is a broad- spread generosity. Keen intelligence is never in smooth accord with itself. A writer steals from himself his most secret beliefs and emotions and puts them into the mouths of his characters. Ah, the tender, the hallowed egotism of a mother's love! A powerful love looks upon itself as hopeless; upon it must be thrown that sort of a light, to complete its deli- ciousness. Education is often the sensitizing of a nerve that leads to misery. To be a gentleman means to possess a large 8i (Bltmpses and Bpigrams ability to feel, and to feel is to worry, to brood and to suffer. The greatest thinkers, the greatest poets were too broad and too great to live within society's prescription. Conventionality is a poisonous vapor, and genius cannot live in it. If you can't tell what you are good for, no other man is ever likely to find out. The horse on the tread-wheel can look through a crack, and see a flower growing outside. Fame whirls her cloak in the air and we never know how soon it is going to fall. To be enemies must argue a certain degree of equality. Of course, it is not just to despise a man who has no ancestry, but it is a crime not to honor him if he has a worthy lineage. 82 of ©pic iReaO Great things do not come from a quiet heart. Quiet hearts may criticise, but they do not create. Genius is an agony, a tortured John Bunyan. In matters of business we may cor- rect an error, we may rub out one figure and put down another, but a mark made upon the heart is likely to remain there. The man of genius always writes near home. The foolish and aimless ro- mancer seeks a country of which his probable readers are not familiar. Then he can exercise a fancy acquired from unhealthful books instead of throwing aside the unlikely, and writing of the true. Poverty has its arrogance, and fop- pery is sometimes found in rags. It is reasonable to suppose almost anything when you start out on that line; but it's not common sense to act upon almost any supposition. 83 ©Umpses an& Epigrams It is a pretty hard matter to live a lie even when it is imposed as a duty. We are not to be vain of what nature has done for us, nor censured for what she has denied. We are 'all children, toddling about as an experiment, and wondering what we are going to be. Nature may seem to mock her own endeavors, but I believe she creates with a purpose, though the purpose may remain hidden until the end. Look there, you see a flower with a weed as its parent. The weed has done some good, for it has brought forth the flower and after all it must have held an unconscious refinement. Ridicule is the bite of the spider, and it ought not to be directed against the man who dedicates his life to sacred work. When a thing touches bottom it can't go any further down, but it may rise. 84 of ©pic lRea5 The trials, the failures and the suc- cesses of other men make us strong. Nothing is more tiresome than to listen to a man's hopes. If a man evinces good sense in con- versation, why can't he evince good sense in action, since action is but the execution of thought? Who can trace the filmy thread that lies between consciousness and sleep? Sometimes I fancied that it was a raveling from a rainbow with one end in the sunset, the other in the sunrise. The perfect gentleman may be a bore; the perfect lady may be tiresome. In man there is a sort of innocent evil, a liking for the half depraved, and an occasional feeding of this appetite heightens his respect for the truly vir- tuous. 85 Glimpses an& Epigrams The heart of woman will never know a perfect home until the love of its hero has built a mansion for it. There is a difference between the sin of a man and a woman, but repentance is held out regardless of sex. In the hands of love, duty is a sweet selfishness. Christianity has not improved poe- try, although it has blessed the world. Poetry, in its truest and sublimest sense, is the light of the dawn, and not the glare of noontide. Without humor there could be no high state of civilization. The savage frowns; the philosopher laughs. There are lanes so romantic that cool design could have had no hand in their arrangement. They hold the poetry of accident. There is true reverence in nothing save silence. 86 of ®pie ll^eab Life can be looked at with an eye altogether too conscientious to stand the dust that is blown about the street. The greatest of men have trod the level ground, but it is hard to mark history upon a plain; there is no rugged place on which to hang a wreath, and on the prairie the traveling eye is accommodated by no inn whereat it may halt to rest. The greatest women may not be emotional, but the truest women are. The gilt on the dome doesn't prove that the dome is rotten ; it may be strong with seasoned wood and ribs of iron. Human nature is not over-scrupulous in a matter of business. The hard knot of competition takes the wire edge off the commercial axe. The commander of an army, though he may be what we term a perfect gentleman, does not hesitate to deceive the enemy. 87 ©Itmpscs an& Epigrams Whenever you see a boy trying to amount to something help him, for that is a direct good done to mankind. The preacher, in words as simple as the prattled story of a child, told them of the Saviour of mankind. "I want to tell you of a man whose life was tender and beautiful, who shared the sorrow of all humanity. He poured faith and love into hearts that were broken; he plucked the evil glitter from the eye of human wickedness, and in its place set the warm glow of trust and affec- tion." Although a courtesy may be a mis- take, it is still a virtue. War is sometimes a blessing. The world's greatest progress has been sprinkled with blood — blood, the em- blem of the soul's salvation. If you are going to worship a man, let him be a hero. 88 or ©pie 1Rea^ Telia man a truth he doesn't know and he may dispute it; call to his mind a truth which he has known and for- gotten, and he regards it as a piece of wisdom. Eve loved Adam, for Adam never neglected her. The path of duty is the winding path that leads to the sweetest flowers. Every evening comes with a new mystery. We think we know what to expect, but when the evening comes it is different from what it was yesterday. And it is thus that we are enabled to live without growing tired of the world and of ourselves. A woman's heart is like a bird, beat- ing upon the window at night, dazzled by the promise of a warmth within a glowing room, and seeing not an icy cruelty sitting beside the fire, lying in wait for a tender victim. 89 OUmpses and jBpigttims She played on the hillside until she got the sunshine mixed up in her voice. How odd now it would seem to point out a man and say, "he once owned, in this land of freedom, a hundred human beings — owned them in body, but Christian-like yielded to God the direction of their souls." We may for years carry in our minds a sort of mist that we cannot shape into an idea. Suddenly we meet a man, and he speaks the word of life unto that mist, and instantly it becomes a thought. Two wrongs don't make a right, as the saying has it, but a wrong with a cause is half-way right. After all, in the light of the world's universal inconsistency, all creeds are consistent. Ah, but the sweetest communications come in a whisper. 90 of ©pie iRead How the coming of one person can change an atmosphere! At one mo- ment the breath we draw is a new and invigorating hope, the next instant the air is parched and dead — we see an evil eye, a hated face. A thousand scraps of knowledge don't make an education If a man is too serious we call him a pessimist; if he is too happy we know that he is an idiot. A consistent character in fiction is merely a strained form of art. In life the most arrant coward will sometimes fight; the bravest man at times lacks nerve; the generous man may some- times show the spirit of the niggard. But your character in fiction is differ- ent. He must always be brave, or generous, or niggardly. He must be consistent, and consistency is not life. 91 ©limpses anD Epigrams If a njan has truth in one hand it needn't make any difference what the other fellow has in both hands. Your face is a Vandyke conception of a spirit of adventure, you are a strength repenting a weakness; there are flaws in you, and yet I could wish that I were the mother of such a son. But if property makes a woman beau- tiful to the rich, why should it make her ugly to the poor? Down deep in the grass a horde of insects shouted their death songs. Their day of judgment was soon to lie white upon the ground. Artists in their way, with no false notes, with mission ended, they were to die in art, among fantastic pictures wrought in the frost. The late moon was rising, and in the magnolia gardens there s^med to waver a bright and shadowy silence — a 92 of ©pie iRcaO night when every sound is afar off, a half mysterious echo — the closing of a window shutter, the indistinct notes of an old song lagging in the soft and lazy air. I hate a woman that hates children. Adam enjoyed his greatest freedom before the appearance of Eve. Work-day annoyances fester on Sunday. Woman is a constant experiment. Nature herself does not as yet know what to make of her. One moment she is a joy, and the next she is search- ing for a man's weak spots, like a disease. The wisest man among wise men could easily be a fool among women. Hope is the world's best bank ac- count. Hope is the soulss involuntary prayer. 93 GUmpdcs and JEpigrams It was a pleasure to stand in the mist, the trees shadowy about him. It was dreamy to fancy the fog a torn frag- ment of night, floating through the day. It was easy to imagine the lake a boundless sea. Over the rushes a loon flew, a gaunt and feathered lone- liness, looking for a place to light. Sometimes the biggest liar will tell the truest truth. In the opinion of the world involu- tion is depth. It takes a simple book a hundred years to become a classic. Words may sometimes be ashes, but often they are coals of fire. Failure has always been easier to understand than success. Failure is natural. It comes from the weakness of man and*nothing is more natural than weakness. 94 of ©pte lRea& Her complexion reminds me of a tinted vase with the light sweeping through it A woman that smiles all the time wants you to think she's better than she is. Abraham Lincoln could squeeze mirth and tears out of the heart all at once. When he arose to speak, and even before he had uttered a word, every man in the audience said to him- self, "There is my brother." Men who are the soonest to confess ingratitude are sometimes the most likely to prove ungrateful in the future. A wisdom stolen tempts a stealthy use. A scene may be described, but a condition must be felt. That the brave are always gentle is a fallacy. 95 ©limpses an& JEpigrams Jealousy is a matter of temperament more than of love. The theory of to-day may become the scientific truth of to-morrow. And it may also be the scientific error of the day after to-morrow. I believe that immortal fruit grows upon the tree of sincere repentance. I believe that each of us owes to God a life of simple purity and honesty. Our allotted time on earth is but a few days, and what should we gain though we be placed in high position among men, for high positions soon crumble into the dust of forgetfulness and men soon pass away. It is not enough sim- ply to declare that we love the Lord, for love is often selfish; it is not enough simply to praise the Lord, for praise is sometimes the off-shoot of fear. While professing to love the Lord, and while showing that we praise Him we must look with tenderness upon the 96 of ©pie IRcaD faults of others; we must speak no evil word of a neighbor, neither shall we bear tales, for the man who comes and tells me that some one has spoken in our dispraise, may profess that he took our part to hush the mouth of slander, yet he destroys our happiness for an entire day. If I am to have a master, let me have a masterful one. Is it a kindred narrowness that drives a miser to a creed? Horses can be called back from a false spurt in the race, and another start taken, but man must go on. Histories are not so broad as some other forms of literary work, for they sre mainly records of the narrow trans- actions of men. Women are so far above the shallow limitations of his- torical composition that no great his- tory has ever been written by a woman. 97 Glimpses and Bptgcams To one who has been condemned to death there comes a resignation that is deeper than a philosophy. Despair has killed the nerve that fear exposed, and nothing is left for terror to feed on. Nature sometimes makes sport of a man by giving him a heart. And what does it mean? It means that he shall suffer at the hands of other men, and that when his hour for revenge has come, his overgrown heart rises up and commands him to be merciful. Indifference can be more patient than love. The mind ripens, and why should not the heart undergo a change? It is all a growth, a development, and nature is not to be criticised by her children. The things that make the most differ- ence are the ones we cannot see. 98 The strongest of all genius — that genius which we meet, talk to and laugh with and still respect. , Is a beautiful face but the light thrown from a beautiful soul? If we are taught to die for love we ought to kill for it. Art is the old age of trade. Prejudices are sometimes our dearest inheritances. In a quickly formed prejudice there is always more or less of intuition. A woman may be pleased with light talk and with a lively manner, but her respect for a man rests upon his ser- iousness, his ardor, for to her there is a charm even in an enthusiastic trouble. The mere existence of a state line does not change human nature. Man is not changed even by the lines drawn about empires. 99 Gltmpses ant) Epigvama What has made this country great, the gentility of Virginia or the dogged industry of New England? To whom do we owe most, the silver-buckled gentleman or. the steeple-hatted Puri- tan? A man that is easy with a man is always exacting with a woman. Why should a man have an ambition to own large tracts of land — his mind can't lie at ease on acres. Bunyan held the idea that the only way to be good was first to be bad. Ah! What is sweeter, and what can be purer than the uneducated back- woodsman's love of a book? Ah, love, we demand that you shall not only be happy, but miserable at our wish. We would dim your eye when our own is blurred; we would smother your heart when our own is heavy, and 100 of ®pie 1Rea^ would pierce it with a pain. Upon her children this old world has poured the wisdom of her gathered ages, and could we look from another sphere we might see the minds of great men twinkling like the stars, but the human heart is yet unschooled, yet has no range of vision, but chokes and sobs in its own emotion, as it did when the first poet stood upon a hill and cried aloud to an unknown God. I am a strong believer in natural fit- ness, We may learn to do a thing in an average sort of way, but excellence requires instinct, and instinct, of course, can't be learned. You've got to be foolish or a woman will think you've ceased to love her. The minute you are strong she thinks you have forgotten her. No matter how Quakerish in dress a man may be, there is a good deal of fear mixed up in his contempt for good . loi Glimpses ant> JEpigtams clothes. And when an old fool imag- ines himself in love, a necktie is of more weight than an idea. I read of love, the rapture of the poet and the slow-running syrup of the romancer, and I smile. Oh, it may be well enough for a man, but for a woman — a sprinkle of gold dust on an iron chain. There is no failure more complete than the one that comes along in the wake of a success. When we realize a weakness we have found a strength. The majority of men whom we term eccentric, are not only wide-awake to their own peculiarities, but seem to be ever cultivating them to a higher state of oddity. Luck begets luck, and failure suckles a failure. 102 of ©pie 1Rea& A man's never so big a liar as when he's telling things about himself or his enemy. Truth told to man is a virtue — told to a woman a sublimity. A studied art may become a careless grace, witness the Frenchman and the Spaniard; but the blunt Anglo-Saxon must still depend upon truth for his incentive — the others taste dainty viands; he feeds upon blood-dripping meat. IJpon what does success depend? Mind? Oh, no. Industry? No. What then? Temperament. Temperament is of itself a success. There is more wisdom in the Bible than in all other books put together. I don't care anything about creed, or what one man or another may believe; I don't care how or why it was written — I brush aside the oaths that have been sworn on it and the dying lips 103 ©limpscs anO JEpigrams that have kissed it; I shut my eyes to everything but the fact that it is the greatest opera, the greatest poem, the greatest tragedy ever written. At a cross-roads stood an old brick house, an ancient rarity upon a land- scape white spotted with wooden cot- tages. It was a rest for the eye, a place for a moment of musing, a page of a family's record, a bit of dun-col- ored history. It was built long before the railroad set the clocks of the coun- try, before man entered into business co-partnership ^ith the minute and employed the second as his agent. To the youthful, two summers are twins; to the older, they are relatives; to the aged, strangers. It was a day when we like to read the old things which long ago we com- mitted to memory. We know the word before we reach it, but reaching it we find it full of a new meaning. But the 104 of ©pie IReaD hours are long when the heart is rest- less. In the woods the mist hung in the tree-tops as if vapor were the world's slow-moving time, balking among the dripping leaves. In the matter of marriage genius often unconsciously seeks the con- stancy of the sturdy and the common- place. Quiet self-assurance in home-spun clothes exists only in America. Let the judgment administer upon cool affairs and let the heart keep warm in its own joy. Nothing can appear colder than pas- sion's studied by-play. A strong rope — made of the strands of weaknesses. It is a rare charity to pardon a mis- deed committed against one's self. It is easier to condone a crime committed against a neighbor. los I t I I I I I ! I < ! 1 I i I i I i I- I I I