Page:Hoyt's New Cyclopedia Of Practical Quotations (1922).djvu/633

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PHILANTHROPY
PHILANTHROPY
595


    1. PHILANTHROPY ##

PHILANTHROPY

(See also Benefits, Charity)

1

Now~there was at Joppa a certain disciple named Tabitha, which by interpretation is called Dorcas: this woman was full of good works and almsdeeds which she did.

Acts. IX. 36.


2

Gifts and alms are the expressions, not the essence, of this virtue.

AddisonThe Guardian. No. 166.


He scorn'd his own, who felt another's woe.
Campbell—Gertrude of Wyoming. Pt. I. St.
24.


Our sympathy is cold to the relation of distant
misery.
Gibbon—Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. Ch.XLIX.


His house was known to all the vagrant train,
He chid their wanderings but reliev'd their pain;
The long remembered beggar was his guest,
Whose beard descending swept his aged breast.
 | author = Goldsmith
 | work = Deserted Village. L. 149.


Careless their merits or their faults to scan,
His pity gave ere charity began.
 | author = Goldsmith
 | work = Deserted Village. L. 161.


A kind and gentle heart he had,
To comfort friends and foes;
The naked every day he clad
When he put on his clothes.
 | author = Goldsmith
 | work = Elegy on the Death of a Mad Dog.


Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere,
Heaven did a recompense as largely send;
He gave to misery (all he had) a tear,
He gain'd from Heaven ('twas all he wish'd) a
friend.
Gray—Elegy. The Epitaph.


Scatter plenty o'er a smiling land.
Gray—Elegy in a Country Churchyard. St. 16.


Steal the hog, and give the feet for alms.

HerbertJacula Prudentum.


By Jove the stranger and the poor are sent,
And what to those we give, to Jove is lent.
Homer—Odyssey. Bk. VI. L. 247. Pope'b
trans.
 It never was our guise
To slight the poor, or aught humane despise.
Homer—Odyssey. Bk. XIV. L. 65
 | note = Pope's trans.
 
In every sorrowing soul I pour'd delight,
And poverty stood smiling in my sight.
Homer—Odyssey. Bk. XVII. L. 505
 | note = Pope's trans.


Alas! for the rarity
Of Christian charity
Under the sun.
Oh! it was pitiful!
Near a whole city full,
Home had she none.
Hood—The Bridge of Sighs.


He is one of those wise philanthropists who, in a time of famine, would vote for nothing but a supply of toothpicks.

Douglas JerroldDouglas Jerrold's Wit.


I was eyes to the blind, and feet was I to the lame.

Job. XXIX. 15. </poem>


In Misery's darkest caverns known,
His useful care was ever nigh,
Where hopeless Anguish pour'd his groan,
And lonely want retir'd to die.
 | author = Samuel Johnson
 | work = On the Death of Mr. Robert
Levet. St. 5. IhBoswehl's Life of Johnson.
(1782) ("Useful care" reads "ready help"
in first ed.}})
 | topic = Philanthropy
 | page = 595
}}

{{Hoyt quote
 | num =
 | text = Shut not thy purse-strings always against painted distress.
 | author = Lamb
 | work = Complaint of the Decay of Beggars in the Metropolis.
 | topic = Philanthropy
 | page = 595
}}

{{Hoyt quote
 | num =
 | text = Help thi kynne, Crist bit (biddeth), for ther bygynneth charitie.
Langland—Piers Plowman. Passus. 18. L. 61.
 | author =
 | work =
 | place =
 | note =
 | topic = Philanthropy
 | page = 595
}}

{{Hoyt quote
 | num =
 | text = <poem>Who gives himself with his alms feeds three,
Himself, his hungering neighbor, and me.
 | author = Lowell
 | work = The Vision of Sir Launfal. Pt. II.
VIII.


Nec sibi sed toti genitum se credere mundo.
He believed that he was born, not for himself, but for the whole world.
Lucan—Pharsalia. II. 383.


To pity distress is but human; to relieve it is Godlike.

Horace Mann—Lectures on Education. Lecture VI.


Take heed that ye do not your alms before men, to be seen of them.

Matthew. VI. 1.


When thou doest alms, let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth.

Matthew. VI. 3.


Pity the sorrows of a poor old man,
Whose trembling limbs have brought him to your door.
Thos. Moss—The Beggar's Petition.


The organized charity, scrimped and iced,
In the name of a cautious, statistical Christ.
John Boyle O'Reilly—In Bohemia.


Misero datur quodcunque, fortunse datur.
Whatever we give to the wretched, we lend
to fortune.
Seneca—Troades. 697.