who owns a violin. He inherited it from his father, who was a musician. The business man does not play. One of his friends is a lover of violin music. That friend often had told the business man the violin was a good one, and that he ought to treasure it. The business man regarded the advice as that of an enthusiast. One day the argument became so warm the friend insisted that the question be settled at once by carrying the instrument to a professor of music, who is admittedly an authority on violins.
"Why, I wouldn't carry that violin through the street for anything," the business man said. "My friends would think I had gone music mad in my old age."
"I'll carry it," his friend said quickly. "I'm not ashamed to carry a violin anywhere. Come along."
They went. The professor was at home. The back and the belly, the neck and the bridge, the tail-piece and the sounding-post, all passed beneath his critical eye. "It looks all right," the professor said. From the case he drew the bow and ran the hair several times across the cake of rosin. Then, striking A on a nearby piano, he proceeded to tune the instrument which for so many years had been held in so light esteem by its owner. After the violin was in tune he tested it, string by string, chord by chord, and harmonic by harmonic, in all positions. Then he began to play. The fulness, the richness and sweetness of the tone appealed even to the matter-of-fact business man.
"It is a genuine old Italian instrument, and I'll give you $1,000 for it," the professor said. The business man gasped.
"I'll tell you frankly, it is worth more than that, but that is all I can afford to pay," the professor continued.
"I can't think of selling it," the business man replied, with a halt in his speech. "You see, it came to me from my father. It is an heirloom. I thank you, however, for the test you have made and the good opinion you have exprest."
The two men started away from the home of the professor, the business man carrying the violin.
"Let me take it," his musical friend said. "You might meet some one you know."
"I'll carry it," the business man retorted. "I don't care how many friends I meet. And, besides, you might drop it."—Chicago Inter-Ocean.
(3377)
Values Rated—See Discrimination, Unfair.
Values, Spiritual—See Spiritual Values.
VALUES, STANDARD OF
When Tucker, Dean of Gloucester, asserted
in the presence of Sir Joshua Reynolds that
a pin-maker was more valuable to society
than a Raphael, that ardent lover of his profession
replied with some asperity: "That is
an observation of a very narrow mind, a
mind that is confined to the mere object of
commerce. Commerce is the means, not the
end of happiness. The end is a rational enjoyment
by means of art and sciences. It is,
therefore, the highest degree of folly to set
the means in a higher rank of esteem than
the end. It is as much as to say that the
brick-maker is superior to the architect."
(3378)
VANDALISM
In Egypt, travelers tell us about the destruction
of palaces by vandals and Huns.
The greatest architects and artists the world
has ever known toiled upon the palace, and
made it as perfect as a red rose; then came
along these vandals—they ripped out carvings
of angels and seraphs, that held a beauty that
would pierce an artist's heart, and with
these carvings boiled their kettles. They
pulled down the statues of Phidias and
burned them into lime. They took the very
stones of a palace and built them into hundreds
of mean and squalid hovels. Soon
where had been a structure for the gods,
there stood hovels unfit for beasts.
In the same way many men treat the
precious things of life and religion.
(3379)
VANITY
The fate of the soap-bubble is a lesson put into rime by Katherine Pyle:
"I am little," the soap-bubble said, "just now;
Oh, yes, I am small, I know";
(This is what it said to the penny pipe);
"But watch and see me grow.
"Now, look! and reflected in me you'll see
The windows, the chairs and door.
I'm a whole little world; did you ever know
Such a wonderful thing before?
"And only look at my colors bright,
Crimson and green and blue,
You could hardly hope such a lovely thing
Would ever stay here with you.
