One of our best American writers, Geo. S. Hillard, forcibly and truly says:—
I confess that increasing years bring with them an increasing respect for men who do not succeed in life, as those words are commonly used. Heaven is said to be a place for those who have not succeeded on earth; and it is sure that celestial grace does not thrive and bloom in the hot blaze of worldly prosperity. Ill success sometimes arises from a superabundance of qualities in themselves good—from a conscience too sensitive, a taste too fastidious, a self-forgetfulness too romantic, and modesty too retiring. I will not go so far as to say, with a living poet, “that the world knows nothing of its great men,” but there are forms of greatness, or at least excellence, which “die and make no sign;” there are martyrs that miss the palm but not the stake, heroes without the laurel, and conquerors without the triumph.
FUTURITY.
“Life is sweet,” said Sir Anthony Kingston to Bishop Hooper at the stake, “and death bitter.” “True, friend,” he replied, “but consider that the death to come is more bitter, and the life to come is more sweet.”
THE HEART.
In his charming Hyperion, Mr. Longfellow says:—
The little I have seen of the world, and know of the history of mankind, teaches me to look upon the errors of others in sorrow, not in anger. When I take the history of one poor heart that has sinned and suffered, and represent to myself the struggles and temptations it has passed,—the brief pulsations of joy,—the feverish inquietude of hope and fear,—the tears of regret,—the feebleness of purpose,—the pressure of want,—the desertion of friends,—the scorn of a world that has little charity,—the desolation of the soul’s sanctuary,—threatening voices within,—health gone,—happiness gone,—even hope, that remains the longest, gone,—I would fain leave the erring soul of my fellow-man with Him from whose hands it came,
Even as a little girl,
Weeping and laughing in her childish sport.