Cream of the Crop 26/Cream of the Crop 26.iso/educate/fastyp51.zip/TYP.V51/FT4504.TYP

Text File | 1997-06-01 | 18KB | 251 lines

##FT4504.TYP##
// Copyright 1997 Trendtech Corporation, All Rights Reserved
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One summer night, a few months after my marriage, I was seated by my own hearth smoking a last pipe and
nodding over a novel, for my day's work had been an exhausting one.ööMy wife had already gone upstairs,
and the sound of the locking of the hall door some time before told me that the servants had also retired.ööI
had risen from my seat and was knocking out the ashes of my pipe when I suddenly heard the clang of the
bell.

 I looked at the clock.ööIt was a quarter to twelve.ööThis could not be a visitor at so late an hour.ööA patient
evidently, and possibly an all-night sitting.ööWith a wry face I went out into the hall and opened the door.ööTo
my astonishment it was Sherlock Holmes who stood upon my step.

The Crooked Man -  Doyle, Sir Arthur Conan
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Now you must know that a Town Mouse once upon a time went on a visit to his cousin in the country.öö He
was rough and ready, this cousin, but he loved his town friend and made him heartily welcome.öö Beans and
bacon, cheese and bread, were all he had to offer, but he offered them freely.öö The Town Mouse rather
turned up his long nose at this country fare, and said: "I cannot understand, Cousin, how you can put up
with such poor food as this, but of course you cannot expect anything better in the country; come you with
me and I will show you how to live.öö When you have been in town a week you will wonder how you could
ever have stood a country life."  No sooner said than done: the two mice set off for the town and arrived at
the Town Mouse's residence late at night.öö "You will want some refreshment after our long journey," said
the polite Town Mouse, and took his friend into the grand dining-room.öö There they found the remains of a
fine feast, and soon the two mice were eating up jellies and cakes and all that was nice.öö Suddenly they
heard growling and barking.öö"What is that?" said the Country Mouse.öö "It is only the dogs of the house,"
answered the other.öö "Only!" said the Country Mouse.öö"I do not like that music at my dinner."  Just at that
moment the door flew open, in came two huge mastiffs, and the two mice had to scamper down and run off.öö
"Good-bye, Cousin," said the Country Mouse, "What!ööGoing so soon?" said the other.öö "Yes," he
replied;

"Better beans and bacon in peace than cakes and ale in fear."

"The Town Mouse and the Country Mouse" -- Aesop

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Courteous Reader,
I have heard that nothing gives an Author so great Pleasure, as to find his Works respectfully quoted
by other learned Authors.ööThis Pleasure I have seldom enjoyed; for tho' I have been, if I may say it without
Vanity, an "eminent Author" of Almanacks annually now a full Quarter of a Century, my Brother Authors in
the same Way, for what Reason I know not, have ever been very sparing in their Applauses; and no other
Author has taken the least Notice of me, so that did not my Writings produce me some solid "Pudding", the
great Deficiency of "Praise" would have quite discouraged me.öö

I concluded at length, that the People were the best Judges of my Merit; for they buy my Works; and
besides, in my Rambles, where I am not personally known, I have frequently heard one or other of my
Adages repeated, with, "as Poor Richard says", at the End on't; this gave me some Satisfaction, as it showed
not only that my Instructions were regarded, but discovered likewise some Respect for my Authority; and I
own, that to encourage the Practice of remembering and repeating those wise Sentences, I have sometimes
"quoted myself" with great Gravity.

Judge then how much I must have been gratified by an Incident I am going to relate to you.öö I stopped my
Horse lately where a great Number of People were collected at a Vendue of Merchant Goods.öö The Hour of
Sale not being come, they were conversing on the Badness of the Times, and one of the Company called to
a plain clean old Man, with white Locks, "Pray, Father" Abraham, "what think you of the Times?öö Won't
these heavy Taxes quite ruin the Country?öö How shall we be ever able to pay them?öö What would you advise
us to?öö-- " Father "Abraham" stood up, and reply'd, If you'd have my Advice, I'll give it you in short, for a
"Word to the Wise is enough", and "many Words won't fill a Bushel", as "Poor Richard says." They join'd
in desiring him to speak his Mind, and gathering round him, he proceeded as
follows;

Friends, says he, and Neighbours, the Taxes are indeed very heavy, and if those laid on by the Government
were the only Ones we had to pay, we might more easily discharge them; but we have many others, and
much more grievous to some of us.öö We are taxed twice as much by our "Idleness", three times as much by
our "Pride", and four times as much by our "Folly", and from these Taxes the Commissioners cannot ease
or deliver us by allowing an Abatement.öö However let us hearken to good Advice, and something may be
done for us; "God helps them that help themselves", as "Poor Richard" says, in his Almanack of
1733.

It would be thought a hard Government that should tax its People one tenth Part of their "Time", to be
employed in its Service.ööBut "Idleness" taxes many of us much more, if we reckon all that is spent in
absolute "Sloth", or doing of nothing, with that which is spent in idle Employments or Amusements, that
amount to nothing.öö"Sloth", by bringing on Diseases, absolutely shortens Life.öö "Sloth, like Rust, consumes
faster than Labour wears, while the used Key is always bright", as "Poor Richard" says.öö But "dost thou love
Life, then do not squander Time, for that's the Stuff Life is made of", as "Poor Richard" says.öö-- How much
more than is necessary do we spend in Sleep!ööforgetting that "The sleeping Fox catches no Poultry", and
that "there will be sleeping enough in the Grave", as "Poor Richard" says.öö If Time be of all Things the most
precious, "wasting Time" must be, as "Poor Richard" says, "the greatest Prodigality", since, as he elsewhere
tells us, "Lost Time is never found again"; and what we call "Time-enough, always proves little enough":
Let us then up and be doing, and doing to the Purpose; so by Diligence shall we do more with less
Perplexity.öö "Sloth makes all Things difficult, but Industry all easy", as "Poor Richard" says; and "He that
riseth late, must trot all Day, and shall scarce overtake his Business at Night." While "Laziness travels so
slowly, that Poverty soon over-takes him", as we read in "Poor Richard", who adds, "Drive thy Business, let
not that drive thee"; and "Early to Bed, and early to rise, makes a Man healthy, wealthy and wise."

"Poor Richard Improved", 1758 -- Benjamin Franklin

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What the great learning teaches, is to illustrate illustrious virtue; to renovate the people; and to rest in the
highest excellence.öö The point where to rest being known, the object of pursuit is then determined; and, that
being determined, a calm unperturbedness may be attained to.ööTo that calmness there will succeed a tranquil
repose.ööIn that repose there may be careful deliberation, and that deliberation will be followed by the
attainment of the desired end.öö Things have their root and their branches.ööAffairs have their end and their
beginning.ööTo know what is first and what is last will lead near to what is taught in the Great Learning.öö The
ancients who wished to illustrate illustrious virtue throughout the kingdom, first ordered well their own
states.ööWishing to order well their states, they first regulated their families.ööWishing to regulate their
families, they first cultivated their persons.ööWishing to cultivate their persons, they first rectified their
hearts.ööWishing to rectify their hearts, they first sought to be sincere in their thoughts.ööWishing to be sincere
in their thoughts, they first extended to the utmost their knowledge.ööSuch extension of knowledge lay in the
investigation of things.öö Things being investigated, knowledge became complete.ööTheir knowledge being
complete, their thoughts were sincere.ööTheir thoughts being sincere, their hearts were then rectified.ööTheir
hearts being rectified, their persons were cultivated.ööTheir persons being cultivated, their families were
regulated.ööTheir families being regulated, their states were rightly governed.ööTheir states being rightly
governed, the whole kingdom was made tranquil and happy.öö From the Son of Heaven down to the mass of
the people, all must consider the cultivation of the person the root of everything besides.öö It cannot be, when
the root is neglected, that what should spring from it will be well ordered.ööIt never has been the case that
what was of great importance has been slightly cared for, and, at the same time, that what was of slight
importance has been greatly cared for.
 "The Great Learning", 500 BC, Confucius
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Ships, ships, I will describe you
Amidst the main,
I will come and try you,
What you are protecting,
And projecting,
What's your end and aim.
One goes abroad for merchandise and trading,
Another stays to keep his country from invading,
A third is coming home with rich and wealthy lading.
Halloo! my fancie, whither wilt thou go?
-- Old Poem.
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To an American visiting Europe, the long voyage he has to make is an excellent preparative.öö The temporary
absence of worldly scenes and employments produces a state of mind peculiarly fitted to receive new and
vivid impressions.öö The vast space of waters that separates the hemispheres is like a blank page in existence.öö
There is no gradual transition, by which, as in Europe, the features and population of one country blend
almost imperceptibly with those of another.öö From the moment you lose sight of the land you have left all is
vacancy until you step on the opposite shore, and are launched at once into the bustle and novelties of
another world.
In traveling by land there is a continuity of scene and a connected succession of persons and incidents, that
carry on the story of life, and lessen the effect of absence and separation.öö We drag, it is true, "a lengthening
chain," at each remove of our pilgrimage; but the chain is unbroken: we can trace it back link by link; and
we feel that the last still grapples us to home.öö But a wide sea voyage severs us at once.öö It makes us
conscious of being cast loose from the secure anchorage of settled life, and sent adrift upon a doubtful
world.öö It interposes a gulf, not merely imaginary, but real, between us and our homes- a gulf subject to
tempest, and fear, and uncertainty, rendering distance palpable, and return
precarious.

"The Sketch Book: The Voyage". 1819-20, by Washington Irving
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Should anyone say that he does not wish to lead the holy life under the Blessed One, unless the Blessed One
first tells him, whether the world is eternal or temporal, finite or infinite; whether the life principle is
identical with the body, or something different; whether the Perfect One continues after death, and so on
such a man would die, ere the Perfect One could tell him all this.
It is as if a man were pierced by a poisoned arrow, and his friends, companions, or near relations, should
send for a surgeon; but that man should say: "I will not have this arrow pulled out, until I know who the man
is that has wounded me: whether he is a noble, a priest, a citizen, or a servant"; or: "what his name is, and to
what family he belongs"; or: "whether he is tall, or short, or of medium height." Verily, such a man would
die, ere he could adequately learn all this.öö  Therefore, the man who seeks his own welfare, should pull out
this arrow-this arrow of lamentation, pain, and sorrow.öö  For, whether the theory exists, or whether it does
not exist, that the world is eternal, or temporal, or finite, or infinite-certainly, there is birth, there is decay,
there is death, sorrow, lamentation, pain, grief, and despair, the extinction of which, attainable even in this
present life, I make known unto you.

"The Word: Unprofitable Questions" --Buddha
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Now Chil the Kite brings home the night
That Mang the Bat sets free-
The herds are shut in byre and hut
For loosed till dawn are we.
This is the hour of pride and power,
Talon and tush and claw.
Oh, hear the call!- Good hunting all
That keep the Jungle Law!
--Night Song In The Jungle
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It was seven o'clock of a very warm evening in the Seeonee hills when Father Wolf woke up from his day's
rest, scratched himself, yawned, and spread out his paws one after the other to get rid of the sleepy feeling
in their tips.ööMother Wolf lay with her big gray nose dropped across her four tumbling, squealing cubs, and
the moon shone into the mouth of the cave where they all lived.
"Augrh!" said Father Wolf.öö"It is time to hunt again." He was going to spring downhill when a little shadow
with a bushy tail crossed the threshold and whined: "Good luck go with you, O Chief of the Wolves.ööAnd
good luck and strong white teeth go with noble children that they may never forget the hungry in this
world."
 "The Jungle Book: Mowgli's Brothers", 1894, by Rudyard Kipling
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I
Wake!ööFor the Sun, who scatter'd into flight
The Stars before him from the Field of Night,
Drives Night along with them from Heav'n, and strikes
The Sultan's Turret with a Shaft of Light.
II
Before the phantom of False morning died,
Methought a Voice within the Tavern cried,
"When all the Temple is prepared within,
Why nods the drowsy Worshipper outside?"
III
And, as the Cock crew, those who stood before
The Tavern shouted--"Open then the Door!
You know how little while we have to stay,
And, once departed, may return no more."
IV
Now the New Year reviving old Desires,
The thoughtful Soul to Solitude retires,
Where the White Hand Of Moses on the Bough
Puts out, and Jesus from the Ground suspires.
V
Iram indeed is gone with all his Rose,
And Jamshyd's Sev'n-ring'd Cup where no one knows;
But still a Ruby kindles in the Vine,
And many a Garden by the Water blows,
VI
And David's lips are lockt; but in divine
High-piping Pehlevi, with "Wine!ööWine!ööWine!
Red Wine!"--the Nightingale cries to the Rose
That sallow cheek of hers t' incarnadine.
VII
Come, fill the Cup, and in the fire of Spring
Your Winter-garment of Repentance fling:
The Bird of Time bas but a little way
To flutter--and the Bird is on the Wing.

The Rubaiyat", 1120, by Omar Khyyam
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"Historians copy from one another.ööThus they spare themselves trouble and avoid the appearance of
presumption.ööImitate them and do not be original.ööAn original historian is the object of distrust, contempt,
and loathing from everybody.
"Do you imagine, sir," added he, "that I should be respected and honored as I am if I had put innovations
into my historical works?ööAnd what are innovations?ööThey are
impertinences."
He rose.ööI thanked him for his kindness and reached the door.ööHe called me
back.
"One word more.ööIf you want your book to be well received, lose no opportunity for exalting the virtues on
which society is based- attachment to wealth, pious sentiments, and especially resignation on the part of the
poor, which latter is the very foundation of order.ööProclaim, sir, that the origins of property- nobility and
police- are treated in your history with all the respect which these institutions deserve.ööMake it known that
you admit the supernatural when it presents itself.ööOn these conditions you will succeed in good
society."
I have given much thought to these judicious observations and I have given them the fullest
weight.

"Penguin Island", 1908, by Anatole France, translated by A. W. Evans
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There was no possibility of taking a walk that day.öö We had been wandering, indeed, in the leafless
shrubbery an hour in the morning; but since dinner (Mrs. Reed, when there was no company, dined early)
the cold winter wind had brought with it clouds so sombre, and a rain so penetrating, that further outdoor
exercise was now out of the question.
I was glad of it: I never liked long walks, especially on chilly afternoons: dreadful to me was the coming
home in the raw twilight, with nipped fingers and toes, and a heart saddened by the chidings of Bessie, the
nurse, and humbled by the consciousness of my physical inferiority to Eliza, John, and Georgiana Reed.öö
The said Eliza, John, and Georgiana were now clustered round their mama in the drawing-room: she lay
reclined on a sofa by the fireside, and with her darlings about her (for the time neither quarreling nor crying)
looked perfectly happy.öö Me, she had dispensed from joining the group; saying, 'She regretted to be under
the necessity of keeping me at a distance; but that until she heard from Bessie, and could discover by her
own observation, that I was endeavoring in good earnest to acquire a more sociable and childlike
disposition, a more attractive and sprightly manner- something lighter, franker, more natural, as it were- she
really must exclude me from privileges intended only for contented, happy, little
children.'

"Jane Eyre", by Charlotte Bronte