beds. There youth is perfect and beauty is eternal. There every ambition will be perfected, every dream realized; every hope turned to fruition, and the soul is a tree waving its fruit and casting down its purple vintage at the feet of the God of the summer. (Text.)—N. D. Hillis.
(1691)
JOY
John Kendrick Bangs, in the Atlantic Monthly, writes an ideal note:
To-day, whatever may annoy
The word for me is joy, just simple joy;
The joy of life;
The joy of children and of wife;
The joy of bright blue skies;
The joy of rain; the glad surprize
Of twinkling stars that shine at night;
The joy of wingéd things upon their flight;
The joy of noon-day, and the tried
True joyousness of eventide;
The joy of labor, and of mirth;
The joy of air, and sea, and earth—
The countless joys that ever flow from Him
Whose vast beneficence doth dim
The lustrous light of day,
And lavish gifts divine upon our way.
Whate'er there be of sorrow
I'll put off till to-morrow,
And when to-morrow comes, why then
'Twill be to-day and joy again! (Text.)
(1692)
So take joy home,
And make a place in thy great heart for her,
And give her time to grow, and cherish her;
Then will she come, and oft will sing to thee,
When thou art working in the furrows; aye,
Or weeding in the sacred hours of dawn.
It is a comely fashion to be glad—
Joy is the grace we say to God. (Text.)
—Jean Ingelow.
(1693)
JOY AFTER GRIEF
I had a sorrow, and I wept salt tears
One winter night, and heavy beat the rain;
At dawn came frost, and on my window-pane
Each drop like fairy lacework now appears.
So shall my grief perchance become a pleasure;
Yes, tears maybe are jewels hearts would keep,
For in another life we'll wake from sleep,
And light shall sparkle from our new-found treasure.
—Beatrix L. Tollemache.
(1694)
JOY AND SORROW
"Joy and sorrow are contemporaneous experiences in the same Christian consciousness," says Dr. Cruddylan Jones. In the Straits of Gibraltar is a double current, the stream flowing back again from the Mediterranean to the Atlantic. This phenomenon is analogous to the double current in the life of every believer. (Text.)
(1695)
Judge, a Considerate—See Probation.
Judged by the Sun—See Tests.
Judging—See Cynic Rebuked.
JUDGING, CARE IN
A traveler in North Carolina saw an old
colored man sitting in a chair in his garden,
hoeing. The traveler laughed. He thought
it was a case of monumental laziness. But
he happened to look back as he laughed, and
he saw a pair of crutches lying on the ground
by the old man's chair. At once what made
him seem ridiculous before made him seem
heroic now.
When disposed to criticize, remember
human infirmities. (Text.)
(1696)
JUDGING FROM FACTS
We must not judge any act without knowing
the facts of the case. "See that man!
He has sat on the bank all the morning
throwing pebble after pebble into the water.
How lazy he must be!" "Is this a fair judgment?"
I inquire. And at the end of a
warm discussion, I tell my pupils how
Turner, the artist, did that to watch the surface
of the water in motion and learn how
to paint its sheen and color. "A child is
walking quietly along the sidewalk. Suddenly
a rough looking man seizes her and
pushes her into the gutter. Is he cruel?"
Of course every one answers yes, at first.
But no—a mass of ice is about to fall from
the roof above the child's head. Her assaulter
turns out to be her protector.
In teaching, of course, every good teacher passes from examples to principles. Through such examples as these we elicit the fact that we can judge no act on sight, for every act is open to a good or a bad interpretation. The eager energy members of my class show in pointing out possible good motives for acts that at first sight look selfish makes me feel sure that they will not in later life condemn unheard. "The special part of this ethics course which stands out in my mind as important," writes one of my
