Petitions not sweeten'd
With gold, are but unsavoury, oft refused;
Or if received, are pocketed, never read.
—Massinger.
1507
Jenny Lind was frequently known to pass unobserved from her residence, as if to make a visit, and had been traced to the back lanes and cottages of the poor, whose wants she ascertained and relieved. Several times she had been remonstrated with, and warned by her intimate friends against being imposed upon. She always replied, "Never mind; if I relieve ten, and one is worthy, I am satisfied."
1508
NAME OF THE GOOD SAMARITAN.
A philanthropist, when a candidate for the ministry, was traveling on one occasion from Strasbourg. It was in the winter time. The ground was deeply covered with snow, and the roads were almost impassable. He had reached the middle of his journey and was among the mountains; and by that time was so exhausted that he could stand erect no longer. He was rapidly freezing to death, and sleep began to overpower him. He commended himself to God, and yielded to what he felt to be the sleep of death. He knew not how long he slept, but suddenly became conscious of some one rousing him. Before him stood a wagon-driver in his blue blouse, and the wagon not far away. His rescuer gave him a little wine and food, and the spirit of life returned. He then helped him upon the wagon, and brought him to the next village. Oberlin, the philanthropist, was profuse in his thanks, and offered money, which his benefactor refused. "It is only a duty to help one another," said the wagoner; "and it is the next thing to an insult to offer a reward for such a service." "Then," said Oberlin, "at least tell me your name, that I may have you in thankful remembrance before God." "I see," said the wagoner, "that you are a minister of the Gospel. Please tell me the name of the Good Samaritan." "That," said Oberlin, "I cannot do; for it was not put on record." "Then," replied the wagoner, "until you can tell me his name, permit me to withhold mine."
1509
A Sensible Answer.—A story is told about Wendell Phillips—a story that must have made even the serious-minded Abolitionist laugh heartily: He was in a hotel in Charleston, had breakfast in his room, and was served by a slave. Mr. Phillips spoke to him as an Abolitionist, but the waiter seemed to be more concerned about the breakfast than about himself. Finally Mr. Phillips told him to go away, saying that he could not bear to be waited upon by a slave.
The other remonstrated: "Scuse me, massa, but I's obliged to stay yere, 'cause I's 'sponsible fo' de silverware."