The Family Circle
■: ■ :; , :. ;; richest- OF gifts. . : (From a longer poem by the late John Boyle O’Reilly.) Richest of gifts to a nation! Death with the living crown ! Type of ideal manhood to the people’s heart brought down! Sweet is the love of a woman and sweet is the kiss of a child! Sweet is the tender strength, and the bravery of the mild; But sweeter than all, for embracing all, is the young life’s peerless price, The young heart laid on the altar, as a nation’s sacrifice. How can the debt be cancelled? Prayers and tears we may give, But recall the anguish of hearts that have ceased to live? Flushed with the pride of genius, filled with the strength of life. Thrilled with delicious passion for her who would be his wife. This was the heart he offered, the upward life he gave, This is the silent sermon of the patriot’s nameless grave; Shrine of a nation’s honor, stone left blank for a name, Light on the dark horizon to guide us clear from shame. Chord struck deep with the keynote, telling us what can save, “A nation among nations,” or forever a nameless grave. Such is the will of the martyr, the burden we still must bear; But even from death he reaches the legacy to share; Ho teaches the secret of manhood, the watchword of those who aspire, That men must follow freedom though it lead through blood and fire; s That sacrifice is the bitter draught which freedom still must quaff, That every patriotic life is the patriot’s epitaph. CARRYING YOUR POINT. Carrying your point is not the most important thing in the world. Pride and self-will, may urge you to conquer, if you can, but it often happens that yielding is the higher, truer victory. To get the best of si n argument by a sarcastic turn which wounds a friend, to get your own way at the cost of discouraging and disheartening someone else, to win by taking an advantage which is doubtful, if not evidently unfair, is to pay too high a price for victory. Other things are better worth while than merely carrying your point. THE POWER OF GOOD EXAMPLE. •. The following letter from a “Grateful Convert” to tho editor of the Brooklyn Tablet tells its own story —• "i .... Your readers may be interested in the story of my conversion to the Catholic faith, though there is nothing unique or sensational about it. Three years ago I was, not only not a Catholic, but a bitter anti-Catholic. I had been brought up in a section of the country where Catholics were few in number. Bigotry and prejudice were the breath of my nostrils. Nothing was too bad for me to ■believe of the Church; for I was living in an atmosphere of hatred towards all things Catholic. As I look back now, ,1 wonder why it never occurred to me to question the x truth of the stories I heard about priests, nuns, etc. But, i as a matter of fact, such a thought never came to me. , • ■. • My, mind, was simply closed tight to logic and fairness where the Catholic Church was concerned. Circumstances forced me to ■ change my position, and I found myself r , in a large office in which, a nftmber of Catholic young ladies were employed. Their dress, conversation, and general deportment . were so dignified and modest that I could not but be impressed. They freely. : discussed . their religion, speaking of going- to Mass on holy days, to confession, of fasting ; and abstaining, etc. By accident I noticed many of them going into St. Peter’s ■ Church in -Barclay Street, spending the greater part of their lunch hour in prayer. Suddenly, by the grace of God I 'now think, I became interested in knowing more of their /faith; I received instructions. and a little later was f bap-, /tised-. and received into the true fold. Katharine M.” ; •
“REWARD A HUNDRED FOLD.” , That the only path to peace is in the Gospel of Christ, receives daily confirmation in the lives of multitudes. But ever so often this confirmation is uttered in such circumstances as make it a sharp challenge to the world, as it irresistibly calls attention to the wisdom of those who walk according to the law of Christ. ; , \ ' ' Recently Brother Dutton, the successor of Father Damien in the care of lepers on the Island of Molokai, gave such confirmation on the occasion of his 79th birthday For 35 years Brother Dutton had lived the life of a man of the world, very much of the character of a Beau Brumdashing, gay, and loving the pleasure of life. Suddenly in his 35th year it dawned on him that he was wasting Ins life, and he determined to give himself, up to the service of God. His first impulse was to enter the Jh-appist monastery at Gethsemane, Kentucky, but while in the monastery of the Redemptorist Fathers in New Orleans he chanced, upon a magazine describing the life of Father Damien, and his work among’ the lepers in the isolated Kalawao colony on Molokai Island. Inspired by the work ot the great priest who had dedicated his life to the service of these helpless outcasts, Brother Dutton determined to go to Molokai if Father Damien would receive him. That "T h i him ' come ’ and earl y in the summer of 1888 Brother Dutton sailed from San Francisco, and on July 29 reached Kalawao. From that day to this Brother Dutton has never left tho settlement, and for 36 years he lias ministered with the spirit of Christ to the leper boys and young men, as they awaited the blessed release of death.. Brother Dutton is now 79 years of age and on the occasion of his last birthday he sent from the lonely solitude of his rock-bound leper home greetings to the world outside,” in which he gave this striking testimony: “I expect to die on Molokai. It is my home, and I am happy here—happy because I can live for others and especially for those who need care and comfort and friendship, as they wait for death in this lonely spot. I have had’ a full life, but I did not begin to live until I came to Kalawao.” God bless Brother Dutton and his 2°£° U rf work and may the world profit h y tho lesson of his life ! —The Missionary. ' ' BE STRONG. Be strong ! Wo are not here to play, to dream, to drift ; Wo have hard work to do and loads to lift;' ■ .. .Shun not the struggle—face it; ’tis God’s gift. ' Bo strong! Say not, the days are evil. Who’s to blame?” And fold the hands and acquiesce—Oh, shame I . Stand up, and speak out, and bravely, in God’s name. i Be strong " It matters not how deep intrenched the wrong, How hard the battle goes, the day how long; Paint not fight on ! To-morrow comes the song. —Maltbie Davenport Babcock. EVERYTHING IN TIME. , A candidate in a country district was getting a firm , hold on his electors, and was painting volubly the happy life they would lead if they sent him to Parliament. “You have not yet got two acres of land each, and a cow, but that will come,” ho cried, - , ' ' , ■ , 4 “You have not got free homes for old people, but that will come.” He passed on to prison reform. - / >. i “I have had no experience of such institutions,” he remarked, “but——” , , ■ A voice: f ßut that will come, guv’nor!” ,/ - CAN YOU “BEET” IT? : Harry, while on a visit to the country, became deeply interested in watching an old gardener. After a while the following dialogue took place: ■ ■. ' „ . / ; . * - ’Gardener: “Some,fine vegetables here!” / ‘ Harry; “Rather!” V / ‘ ’ ' ( . : V Gardener: “I once ! grew a cabbage which, when cut m two and the heart removed, made a grand cradle for kiddies!” ' Harry: “It must have been a fine one! But we have
some big vegetables in London. I remember seeing three men sleeping on one beat!” ,* ' V ' Gardener :. “Three men?” ' ;- */ Harry: ; “Yes, policemen !” ... ' ; ’ • ■ - : ; • . : ■ , ■■./ THEN HE woke; UP. • ■ • “Smithkins,” said that young man’s employer, “you may take a montlvoff.” ■ ~ , y " “Oh, sir,” replied the clerk, “it is so, good of ,you to suggest it! I have felt the need of a holiday for some time, but 5 have hesitated to ask for it, knowing how busy w r e are. But it will do me good, and I thank you for your consideration.” “Smithkins,” said the employer, “are yoa crazy?” “Why, no, sir. Didn’t you say I might take a month off?” “Certainly that is what I said. This is the first of the month, while last month’s calendar remains over your desk. Take last month off, and keep it up-to-date. That’s what I meant.” , TOO RISKY. The stranded motorist looked up and down the road. His car had played him false, but a simple spanner would put things right, and, like a fool he had left all his tools in the garage. v . But lat last along came the hoped-for friend in need. “Hi! Will you stop a moment and lend me your spanner?” cried the stranded one. The occupant of the approaching car slowed down and called out: “What?” “Will you stop a moment and lend me your spanner?” repeated the stranded man. “Oh, no! Oh, no!” replied the other, speeding up again. “That’s how I got mine!” SMILE RAISERS. Jackson: “I never, know what to do when I call on a sick friend.” Johnson: “Well, it’s always as well to remember not to look surprised because he is still alive.” Doctor: “Did you take the pills I sent you on Monday, George?” f George:’ “Aye, I did |\ but they little boxes be that ’ard to swallow, sir. Couldn’t ’eo do ’em up in somethin’ different - ¥ “Papa, will you buy me a drum ?” asked a little lad of his father. ' “But, my boy, I’m afraid you’ir disturb me with it.” “Oh, no, I won’t,” said the little fellow; “I’ll only play it when you’re asleep. / * ; Manager: “We must put a great deal of realism into this, forest scene. Can you/ get someone to growl so as to resemble a bear?” s Assistant: “I think so. There are six or seven chorus men who have not received their wages for three weeks. I’ll call them.” / y / / ‘ /‘ / , ’ «? * " /'/ The politician burst into the lawyer’s office, and in an excited'manner asked: “What would you do if a paper should call you a thief and a liar?”/ : , “Well,” said the lawyer scrutinisingly, “if I were you I’d toss •> up a penny to see whether I’d reform or pay no attention to the statement.”, -/ •• / :t < rV. , 4 ' /. A A political rally was being held in a large hall. The speaker was ® man who had a .rather weak voice and similar political policies. ' ■, A man in the gallery cupped his hands behind his ears in a vain effort to hear; then shouted: “Oi cawn’t ’ear! Oi cawn’t ’ear!” ' ’ ; - Another man, sitting in front 'of the r platform, rose to his .feet; and shouted back: “Ya s cawn’t -’ear?. Well, thank" ’Eayen, ,and sit down!” ;
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New Zealand Tablet, Volume XLIX, Issue 40, 12 October 1922, Page 45
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1,863The Family Circle New Zealand Tablet, Volume XLIX, Issue 40, 12 October 1922, Page 45
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