at his efforts than
at his fame, that no rust may gather on the brightness of our eye, and
no withering cloud shut out the sunlight from our spirits.

I CANNOT CLOSE THIS CHAPTER

without imploring the reader to exterminate this characteristic of envy
altogether. Because it is at first so little and so ridiculous, envy
often escapes the hand of discipline. Yet the homely saying is a true
one that "they which play with the devil's rattles will be brought by
degrees to wield his sword," and the force of a nature given up to envy
is truly a two-edged sword from the bottomless pit, cutting both the
fiend who smites and the victim who smarts.

CONTENTMENT.

Mrs. Lofty keeps a carriage--
So do I.
She has dappled grays to draw it--
None have I.--Alma Calder.

Unquestionably, the baby-carriage of the poet, with
contentment, was a far richer establishment than the gilded barouche and
the dappled grays of childless Mrs. Lofty. Riches are often childless;
poverty is often contented. Happiness is a golden spell inwoven with
most of our lives at certain times, whether we be rich or poor. The
first surprise of the newly-rich comes in the non-discovery of
additional happiness. Additional cares and duties come thickly enough.
The greed of the envious, and the demands of the poor who are likewise
needy in thoughtfulness for their more fortunate neighbors, fall upon
the wealthy like a mist. There is no escaping it. As James Russell
Lowell says of a Scotch fog--an umbrella will afford no protection. They
must give all, or accept the hatred of those who believe it to be easier
to give than to receive. "Contentment is natural wealth," says Socrates;
"luxury is artificial poverty." Contentment is generally a sign of a
high class of character. "If two angels were sent down," says John
Newton, "one to conduct an empire and the other to sweep a street, they
would feel no inclination to change employments."

HUMAN GREATNESS

is at best such a little thing that wise men do not lament its absence
in their own persons. Our main pleasures are free to rich as well as
poor. What sight is so grand as the sun? What pleasure is greater than
to breathe? What fluid is more grateful for all purposes than water?
What music is sweeter than the singing of birds, the ringing of free
school bells and the hum of machinery? The extra pleasures which the
rich man, if he be foolish, tries to buy, almost invariabl