disturbed and vexed by the habit. There is an ancient Welsh legend which has always seemed to us a case in point. "There were two kings formerly in Britain," the legend says, "named Nynniaw and Peibiaw. As these two ranged the fields one starlight night, 'See,' said Nynniaw (who at this point seems something of a poet), 'what a beautiful and extensive field I possess.' 'Where is it?' said Peibiaw. 'The whole firmament,' said Nynniaw, 'far as vision can extend.' 'And dost thou see,' said Peibiaw, 'what countless herds and flocks of cattle and sheep I have depasturing thy field?' 'Where are they?' said Nynniaw. 'Why, the whole host of stars which thou seest,' said Peibiaw, 'and each of golden effulgence, with the moon for their shepherdess to superintend their wanderings.' 'They shall not graze in my pasture,' said Nynniaw (who now appears to have been fitly named). 'They shall,' said Peibiaw. 'They shall not,' said one. 'They shall,' said the other, repeatedly, bandying contradiction, until at last it arose to wild contention between them, and from contention it came to furious war, until armies and subjects of both were nearly annihilated in the desolation."—Harper's Bazar.
(3301)
TROUBLE BRAVELY MET
There is a manuscript letter written by
Thomas More to his wife, Alyce, when the
news came that the great mansion at Chelsea,
with its offices and huge granaries, had been
almost destroyed by fire. Instead of lamenting
his loss, he writes, "I pray you, Alyce,
with my children, be merry in God. Find
out if any poor neighbors stored their corn
in the granaries, and recompense them.
Discharge no servant until he have another
abiding-place. Be of good cheer. Take all
the household with you to church, and thank
God for what He hath taken and what He
hath left."
(3302)
See Courage in Life.
Trouble Conquered—See Faith.
Trouble, Ignoring—See Evil, Ignoring.
TROUBLE UPLIFTS
The aviators tell us that the first rule of
flight is to turn the flying-machine against
the wind, and let it lift you into the heights.
When the bird is flying for pleasure it flies
with the wind, but if you lift a club toward
the bird, and it wishes to rise, it turns and
flies against the wind, and upward soars
toward the sun. Trouble is a divine wind,
let loose to lift man into the heights, where
eternal beauty hath her dwelling-place.—N.
D. Hillis.
(3303)
Troubles—See Tools, Moral.
TROUBLES, MEETING
I have recently read this story about an
unhappy woman. She was, indeed, very
miserable, and for years her complaints were
loud and constant. But one day she happened
to read of a naval disaster: the ship
was doomed, but the officers set the band
playing, the flags flying, and, drest in full
uniform, with their white gloves on, waited
for the ship to go down.
She thought of herself, and was ashamed. Never had she met disaster except with tears and complaints. "I won't be as I have been any more," she said to herself. "When troubles come to me, tho I perish as those officers did, I will meet them as they did, with flags flying, the band playing, and my white gloves on." And new troubles came; but with each one she said to herself, "The flags must fly today, the band play, and I must have my white gloves on." And, if the trial were very severe, she would actually put on her best clothes, and with smiling face go out to perform some act of cheerful kindness.
And after some years the result is that she seems to be happy and prosperous. People call her fortunate. Another complaining woman said to her, "Oh, it is well enough for you to talk, you who have never known a trouble in your life."
"A trouble in my life!" the cheerful woman said to herself, and stopt to think. "A trouble! Perhaps not; but now, thank God, those which I thought I had seem no longer to have belonged to me, but to some other person living centuries ago." And she felt sorry for her fretful friend.—M. O. Simmons.
(3304)
See Death, Christian Attitude Toward.
TRUST
It is a pleasant sight sometimes to see a
child and a father at a crowded London
crossing; to the child's imagination the street
with its rattle of horses and vehicles is the
picture of danger and death—to attempt to
get to the other side alone would be certain
destruction; but as the father stands at the
edge of the pavement, the child looks up to
him with a glance of perfect trust and puts