“I WISH” AND “I WILL”
Not in rewards, but in the strength to strive, the blessing lies.—John Townsend Trowbridge.
“I Wish” and “I Will,” so my grandmother says,
Were two little boys in the long, long ago,
And “I Wish” used to sigh while “I Will” used to try
For the things he desired, at least that’s what my
Grandma tells me, and she ought to know.
“I Wish” was so weak, so my grandmother says,
That he longed to have someone to help him about,
And while he’d stand still and look up at the hill
And sigh to be there to go coasting, “I Will”
Would glide past him with many a shout.
It makes considerable difference whether a man talks bigger than he is, or is bigger than he talks.—Patrick Flynn.
They grew to be men, so my grandmother says,
And all that “I Wish” ever did was to dream—
To dream, and to sigh that life’s hill was so high,
While “I Will” went to work and soon learned, if we try,
Hills are never so steep as they seem.
“I Wish” lived in want, so my grandmother says,
But “I Will” had enough and a portion to spare:
Whatever he thought was worth winning he sought
With an earnest and patient endeavor that brought
Of blessings a bountiful share.
No man doth safely rule but he that hath learned gladly to obey.—Thomas à Kempis.
And whenever my grandma hears any one “wish,”
A method she seeks, in his mind to instill,
For increasing his joys, and she straightway employs
The lesson she learned from the two little boys
Whose names were “I Wish” and “I Will.”
By varied discipline man slowly learns his part in what the Master Mind has planned.—Nathan Haskell Dole.
“Trifles” are the beginnings of things which finally develop into all that is worth while.
The acorn is a trifle, yet within it is hidden an oak tree, and a whole forest of oak trees. The tiny little brooklet is only a trifle yet it flows on and on till it becomes a mighty river.
It is a ridiculous thing for a man not to fly from his own badness, which indeed is possible, but to fly from other men’s badness, which is impossible.—Marcus Aurelius.
The first rude little pencil sketch made by the child that has an inborn love of drawing is but a trifle, yet it may be the beginning of an art career that shall brighten the whole world.
Yet with steadfast courage that rather would die than turn back.—Nathan Haskell Dole.
The first few lines written by the embryo poet constitute but a trifle, yet with a word of encouragement it may sometime be followed by songs that shall make all mankind happier and better.
One thing we must never forget, namely: that the infinitely most important work for us is the humane education of the millions who are soon to come on the stage of action.—George T. Angell.
In every sincere and earnest man’s heart God has placed a little niche where the poetic, the spectacular, and the legendary hold full sway.—Willis George Emerson.
It was just a trifling incident that developed one of the greatest vocalists the world has ever known. We are told that Jenny Lind, at the beginning of her life, was a poor, neglected little girl, homely and uncouth, living in a single room of a tumble-down house in a narrow street at Stockholm. When the humble woman who had her in charge went out to her daily labor, she was accustomed to lock Jenny in with her sole companion, a cat. One day the little girl, who was always singing to herself like a canary-bird, “because,” as she said, “the song was in her and must come out,” sat with her dumb companion at the window warbling her sweet child-like notes. She was overheard by a passing lady, who paused and listened, struck by the trill and clearness of the untutored notes. She made careful inquiry about the child and became the patroness of the little Jenny who was at once supplied with a music-teacher. She loved the art of song, and having a true genius for it she made rapid progress, surprising both patroness and teachers, and presently, became the world’s “Queen of Song.”
The generous heart should scorn a pleasure which gives others pain.—Anonymous.
Neither education nor riches can take the place of character, yet we can all get as much character as we want.—Patrick Flynn.
A teacher who can arouse a feeling for one single good action, for one single good poem, accomplishes more than he who fills our memory with rows on rows of natural objects, classified with name and form.—Goethe.
How trifling was the incident that brought about, by a happy accident, the development of the genius which slept in the soul of the sculptor Canova! A superb banquet was being prepared in the palace of the Falieri family in Venice. The tables were already arranged, when it was discovered that a crowning ornament of some sort was required to complete the general effect of the banqueting board. Canova’s grandfather, who brought him up, was a stone-cutter, often hewing out stone ornaments for architects; and as he lived close at hand, he was hastily consulted by the steward of the Falieris. Canova chanced to go with his grandfather to view the tables, and overheard the conversation. Though but a child his quick eye and ready genius at once suggested a suitable design for the apex of the principal dishes. “Give me a plate of cold butter,” said the boy; and seating himself at a side table he rapidly moulded a lion of proper proportions, and so true to nature in its pose and detail as to astonish all present. It was put in place and proved to be the most striking ornamental feature of the feast. When the guests, on being seated, discovered the lion, they exclaimed aloud with admiration, and demanded to see at once the person who could perform such a miracle impromptu. Canova was brought before them, and his boyish person only heightened their wonder. From that hour the head of the opulent Falieri family became his kind, appreciative, liberal patron. Canova was placed under the care of the best sculptors of Venice and Rome and became a grand master of his art.
A good conscience expects to be treated with perfect confidence.—Victor Hugo.
Build new domes of thought in your mind, and presently you will find that instead of your finding the eternal life, the eternal life has found you.—Jenkin Lloyd Jones.
But it may be truthfully said that every boy does not possess some latent genius, waiting to be discovered by some one who will foster and develop it. Then there is all the more need of making the very most of the small talents one may possess. One need not be a Canova, or a Shakespeare, in order that he may become something worth while to those with whom he dwells in close association.
There is no power on earth that can enslave a man who is mentally free; no power that can free a man who is mentally enslaved.—Patrick Flynn.
Every nook and corner of the world is waiting for the fine characters that are to make it a pleasant place in which to dwell. Blest is that household, however humble, in which there are bright, manly, truthful, kind-hearted boys, ever ready to make the hours brighter, and the home dearer, by their tender thoughtfulness of those about them.
He who is plenteously provided from within, needs but little from without.—Goethe.
Are you going to win the admiration of the world, by and by?
Write it on your heart that every day is the best day in the year. No man has learned anything rightly, until he knows that every day is Doomsday.—Emerson.
Have you already won the admiration of that little, all-important world that now lies just about you? Does the mother, or father, or sister, or brother, who knows you best, hold you in the highest esteem? If you do not win the love of those who know you so well, how can you hope to be loved by the world which can never come into such close and tender relations with you?
Do not sing with a too exact correctness. Put in personality.—William Tomlins.
Do not wait for some big event out there in the years to come. Begin just here and now, by seizing upon the “trifles” that lie all about you. The great wall of solid masonry is not put into place all at once; it is laid patiently and carefully, brick by brick. So manhood must be built a “trifle” at a time until a character is established that temptation cannot totter to the earth.
Tyranny is always weakness.—James Russell Lowell.
If we see rightly and mean rightly, we shall get on, though the hand may stagger a little; but if we mean wrongly, or mean nothing, it does not matter how firm the hand is.—Ruskin.
And every boy ought to thank his lucky stars that he does not have to wait for some special occasion to offer itself before he can begin to develop the traits that shall waken the warmest regard of those about him, and bring to his own sense of well-doing the reward born of all virtue. This very day there are many “trifles” strewn in his pathway. If he shall make the most of them, larger opportunities will be vouchsafed him. The one important consideration is whether he is ready to begin to build at the present moment, and to utilize the splendid “trifles” all about him, or will procrastinate till such time as he can by some great sweep of action, establish his reputation all at once and full-born. If he has decided on the latter course he should be moved to give the most earnest and serious consideration to the startling differences that exist between