A WIDER AND WISER HUMANITY. I Do not believe in violent changes, nor do I expect them. Things in possession have a very firm grip. One of the strongest cements of society is the conviction of mankind that the state of things into which they are born is a part of the order of the universe, as natural, let us say, as that the sun should go round the earth. It is a conviction that they will not surrender except on compulsion, and a wise society should look to it that this compulsion be not put upon them. For the individual man there is no radical cure, outside of human nature itself, for the evils to which human nature is heir. The rule will always hold good that you must "Be your own palace or the world 's your gaol." But for artificial evils, for evils that spring from want of thought, thought must find a remedy somewhere. There has been no period of time in which wealth has been more sensible of its duties than now. It builds hospitals, it establishes missions among the poor, it endows schools. It is one of the advantages of accumulated wealth, and of the leisure it renders possible, that people have time to think of the wants and sorrows of their fellows. But all these remedies are partial and palliative merely. It is as if we should apply plasters to a single pustule of the small-pox with a view of driving out the disease. The true way is to discover and to extirpate the germs. As society is now constituted these are in the air it breathes, in the water it drinks, in things that seem, and which it has always believed, to be the most innocent and healthful. The evil elements it neglects corrupt these in their springs and pollute them in their courses. Let us be of good cheer, however, remembering that the misfortunes hardest to bear are those which never come. The world has outlived much, and will outlive a great deal more, and men have contrived to be happy in it. It has shown the strength of its constitution in nothing more than in surviving the quack medicines it has tried. In the scales of the destinies brawn will never weigh so much as brain. Our healing is not in the storm or in the whirlwind, it is not in monarchies, or aristocracies, or democracies, but will be revealed by the still small voice that speaks to the conscience and the heart, prompting us to a wider and wiser humanity. — Democracy. 88 dare, There came a parting, when the weak Thinks she, "Auf wiedersehen!"? And fading lips essayed to speak 'Tis thirteen years; once more I press The turf that silences the lane ; I hear the rustle of her dress, I smell the lilacs, and — ah, yes, I hear "Auf wiedersehen!" Sweet piece of bashful maiden art! The English words had seemed too fain, But these they drew us heart to heart, Yet held us tenderly apart; She said, "Auf wiedersehen!” Vainly,—"Auf wiedersehen!” Somewhere is comfort, somewhere faith, Though thou in outer dark remain ; One sweet sad voice ennobles death, And still, for eighteen centuries saith Softly, "Auf wiedersehen!" If earth another grave must bear, Yet heaven hath won a sweeter strain, And something whispers my despair, That, from an orient chamber there, Floats down, "Auf wiedersehen!" 90 SHIP, blest to bear such freight across the blue, 91 "WHAT means this glory round our feet," The Magi mused, " more bright than morn?" And voices chanted clear and sweet, "To-day the Prince of Peace is born!" "What means that star," the Shepherds said, "That brightens through the rocky glen?" And angels, answering overhead, Sang, "Peace on earth, good-will to men!" 'T is eighteen hundred years and more But it was said, in words of gold No time or sorrow e'er shall dim, That little children might be bold In perfect trust to come to Him. All round about our feet shall shine A light like that the wise men saw, If we our loving wills incline To that sweet Life which is the Law. So shall we learn to understand The simple faith of shepherds then, And, clasping kindly hand in hand, Sing, "Peace on earth, good-will to men!" And they who do their souls no wrong, Shall daily hear the angel-song, |