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.  D. 


In  Praise  of  Poverty 

I.  The  Philosophy  of  Poverty 

II.  The  Poverty  of  Riches 

III.  The    Riches   of   Poverty 


Unless  each  man  is  prepared  to  give  to  the  world  a 
great  deal  more  than  he  will  ever  get  out  of  it,  we  shall  never 
reach  the  millenium. 

THE  REV.  H.  R.  L.  SHEPPARD. 


In   Praise   of   Poverty 

To  the  "  New  Poor,"  to  the  poor  in  spirit,  who  rejoice  in 
voluntary  Poverty,  and  to  that  other  type  of  poor  who  are  "  always 
with  you,"  this  little  volume  is  dedicated. 

While  Sayings  in  Praise  of  Poverty  are  many,  books  con 
cerning  it  are  few. 

Yet  from  time  immemorial,  Bards  and  Sages  have  praised 
Poverty,  in  Sayings,  some  of  which  are  unsurpassed  in  sincerity 
and  beauty. 

The  Praise  of  Poverty,  indeed,  is  universal.  However  deep 
the  cleavage  of  thought  between  the  East  and  the  West  may 
appear  to  be,  upon  this  question  they  are  undivided. 

Though  the  proverbs  of  the  people — the  current  speech  of  the 
market-place — prove  comparatively  lacking  in  Praise  of  Poverty, 
the  higher  planes  of  philosophic  thought,  of  every  age,  yield 
abundant  tribute  to  its  virtues. 

These  collected  Sayings,  with  a  strange  unity  in  their  variety, 
seem  to  voice  an  age-long  protest  against  the  materialistic  attitude 
of  mind,  the  greed  of  wealth,  and  lust  of  possession,  which  have 
been  primary  causes  of  all  wars  in  the  past,  and  probably  will 
be  of  all  wars  in  the  future,  whether  industrial  or  international. 

They  are  not  addressed  to  any  one  section  of  the  community. 
On  the  contrary,  they  appeal  to  all,  for  they  proclaim  alike  to 
every  man,  the  liberty  and  beauty  of  a  life  freed  from  thought 
of  material  gain  and  divested  of  extraneous  luxury. 

The  sole  individuals  to  whom  they  will  make  no  appeal 
are  those  to  whom  the  word  Poverty  implies  but  unwilling  penury  ; 
for  whether  clad  in  robes  of  state,  or  beggar's  rags,  such  are  one, 
at  heart,  with  Dives. 

The  simplicity  of  life  to  which  these  Sayings  refer,  must  not, 
however,  be  confused  with  the  sordid  privation  which  unfits  the 
worker  for  his  work.  Nor  can  it  be  attained  by  any  legislative 
measures.  It  flourishes  solely  in  the  free  atmosphere  of  in 
dividual  responsibility  and  self-control,  such  as  that  which  Saint 
Francis  of  Assisi  clearly  indicates  in  his  Rules,  where  he  exhorts 
and  admonishes  his  people,  "  not  to  despise  or  judge  those  whom 
they  see  dressed  in  soft  and  gay  clothing,  and  who  use  delicate 
food  and  drink,"  but  rather,  he  says,  "  let  every  one  judge  and 
despise  himself."  For,  as  he  adds  elsewhere,  "  anger  and  trouble 
hinder  charity  in  themselves  and  others." 

We  find,  therefore,  that  Poverty  in  itself  is  not  an  end 
but  only  the  means  to  many  virtues. 

In  this  collection  of  Sayings,  it  is  not  intended  to  suggest 
that  mundane  claims  can  be  ignored  ;  nor,  again,  that  those  who 


seek  the  Way  of  Poverty  should  tend  to  withdraw  themselves 
from  the  ordinary  activities  of  their  fellows. 

We  cannot  attempt  to  overlook  material  facts,  for  we  are 
forced  to  admit  that  all  who  are  human  are  "  hewers  of  wood 
and  drawers  of  water,"  vicariously  and  by  proxy,  if  they  are  not 
actually. 

The  greatest  exponents  of  the  joy  of  the  dispossessed,  Christ, 
the  Buddha  and  Saint  Francis,  in  their  active  teaching,  rank 
amongst  the  world's  most  tireless  workers  ;  but  the  lust  of  possession 
was  not  theirs. 

Not  by  forsaking  "  the  world  "  are  the  poor  in  spirit  most 
truly  blessed,  but  rather  by  seeking  its  transformation,  through 
the  alchemy  of  self-sacrifice,  into  the  vigorous,  living  servant 
of  the  spiritual. 

The  enigmas  of  Poverty  have  attracted  the  attention  of  the 
thinkers  of  every  age,  as  possessing  an  unusual  significance  for 
mankind. 

The  more  closely  they  are  examined,  the  deeper  seem  their 
connexion  with  almost  every  human  interest. 

If  the  implications  involved  in  the  practice  of  voluntary 
Poverty  be  followed  to  their  logical  conclusion,  the  word  Poverty 
proves  to  be  as  pregnant  with  far-reaching  results  as  that  grain 
of  mustard-seed  to  which  the  very  Kingdom  of  Heaven  was  once 
likened. 

This  volume  of  Sayings  is  not  intended  to  be  an  Anthology. 
It  was  written  solely  with  the  purpose  of  Unking  together,  into 
connected  form,  some  fragments  of  a  message,  whose  words, 
though  old,  have  still  lost  nothing  of  their  ancient  fire. 

From  time  to  time,  through  rising  and  through  falling  civiliza 
tions,  the  thought  which  it  contains  has  been  borne  on,  by  successive 
voices  throughout  the  Nations,  like  the  burden  of  some  mighty 
song. 

It  has  been  given  to  us  with  poetry,  with  humour,  with 
philosophy,  with  the  passion  of  an  appeal  and  the  earnestness 
of  a  command. 

The  peoples  of  the  world  to-day,  however,  are  founding  their 
hope  of  progress  almost  entirely  upon  a  groundwork  of  material 
prosperity.  They  ignore  the  truth  of  an  ancient  Saying,  "  Nothing 
imperishable  is  won  by  perishable  means." 

Yet  even  in  the  darkest  days  of  spiritual  vision  in  the  world's 
history,  there  will  remain  ever  the  few,  from  every  land  and 
clime,  who  will  hear  and  heed  the  call  to  the  Way  of  Poverty. 


The  Philosophy  of  Poverty 


(8) 


OUR ....  topic  shall  be  Poverty,  felt  at  all  times  and 
under  all  creeds  as  one  adornment  of  a  saintly  life. 
Since  the  instinct  of  ownership  is  fundamental  in  man's 
nature,  this  is  one  more  example  of  the  ascetic  paradox. 
Yet  it  appears  no  paradox  at  all,  but  perfectly  reasonable, 
the  moment  one  recollects  how  easily  higher  excitements 
hold  lower  cupidities  in  check .... 

Since  Hindu  fakirs,  Buddhist  monks,  and  Mohammedan 
dervishes  unite  with  Jesuits  and  Franciscans  in  idealising 
Poverty  as  the  loftiest  individual  state,  it  is  worth  while 
to  examine  into  the  spiritual  grounds  for  such  a  seemingly 
unnatural  opinion .... 

The  opposition  between  the  men  who  have  and  the 
men  who  are  is  immemorial.  Though  the  gentleman,  in 
the  old-fashioned  sense  of  the  man  who  is  well-born,  has 
usually  in  point  of  fact  been  predaceous  and  revelled  in 
lands  and  goods,  yet  he  has  never  identified  his  essence 
with  these  possessions,  but  rather  with  the  personal 
superiorities,  the  courage,  generosity,  and  pride  supposed 
to  be  his  birthright.  To  certain  huckstering  kinds  of 
consideration  he  thanked  God  he  was  forever  inaccessible, 
and  if  in  life's  vicissitudes  he  should  become  destitute 
through  their  lack,  he  was  glad  to  think  that  with  his  sheer 
valor  he  was  all  the  freer  to  work  out  his  salvation .... 
This  ideal  of  the  well-born  man  without  possessions  was 
embodied  in  knight-errantry  and  templardom  ;  and, 
hideously  corrupted  as  it  has  always  been,  it  still  dominates 
sentimentally,  if  not  practically,  the  military  and  aristo 
cratic  view  of  life.  We  glorify  the  soldier  as  the  man 
absolutely  unincumbered.  Owning  nothing  but  his  bare 
life,  and  willing  to  toss  that  up  at  any  moment  when  the 
cause  commands  him,  he  is  the  representative  of  unhampered 
freedom  in  ideal  directions. 

WILLIAM  JAMES  (1842-1910), 

4  Varieties  of  Religious  Experience.' 


(9) 

IT  hath  been  observed  by  wise  and  considering  men, 
that  wealth  hath  seldom  been  the  portion,  and  never 
the  mark  to  discover  good  people  ;  but  that  Almighty  God, 
who  disposes  all  things  wisely,  hath  of  his  abundant  goodness 
denied  it — He  only  knows  why — to  many,  whose  minds  He 
hath  enriched  with  the  greater  blessings  of  knowledge  and 
virtue,  as  the  fairer  testimonies  of  his  love  to  mankind. 

IZAAK  WALTON  (1593-1683), 

'  Life  of  Dr.  John  Donne.' 


HP  IS,  I  confess,  the  common  fate  of  men  of  singular 
1  gifts  of  mind,  to  be  destitute  of  those  of  fortune  ; 
which  doth  not  any  way  deject  the  spirit  of  wiser  judgments 
who  thoroughly  understand  the  justice  of  this  proceeding  ; 
and,  being  enriched  with  higher  donatives,  cast  a  more 
careless  eye  on  these  vulgar  parts  of  felicity.  It  is  a  most 
unjust  ambition,  to  desire  to  engross  the  mercies  of  the 
Almighty,  not  to  be  content  with  the  goods  of  mind, 
without  possession  of  those  of  body  or  fortune  :  and  it  is 
an  error,  worse  than  heresy,  to  adore  those  complimental 
and  circumstantial  pieces  of  felicity,  and  undervalue  those 
perfections  and  essential  points  of  happiness,  wherein  we 
resemble  our  Maker.  To  wiser  desires  it  is  satisfaction 
enough  to  deserve,  though  not  to  enjoy,  the  favours  of 
fortune.  Let  providence  provide  for  fools :  'tis  not 
partiality,  but  equity,  in  God,  who  deals  with  us  but  as 
our  natural  parents.  Those  that  are  able  of  body  and 
mind  he  leaves  to  their  deserts ;  to  those  of  weaker  merits 
he  imparts  a  larger  portion  ;  and  pieces  out  the  defect 
of  one  by  the  excess  of  the  other.  Thus  have  we  no  just 
quarrel  with  nature  for  leaving  us  naked  ;  or  to  envy  the 
horns,  hoofs,  skins,  and  furs  of  other  creatures ;  being 
provided  with  reason,  that  can  supply  them  all. 

SIR  THOMAS  BROWNE  (1605-1682), 

*  Religio  Medici.' 


(10) 

AMONG  us  English-speaking  peoples  especially  do  the 
praises  of  poverty  need  once  more  to  be  boldly  sung. 
We  have  grown  literally  afraid  to  be  poor.  We  despise 
anyone  who  elects  to  be  poor  in  order  to  simplify  and  save 
his  inner  life.  If  he  does  not  join  the  general  scramble  and 
pant  with  the  money-making  street,  we  deem  him  spiritless 
and  lacking  in  ambition.  We  have  lost  the  power  even 
of  imagining  what  the  ancient  idealization  of  poverty  could 
have  meant :  the  liberation  from  material  attachments, 
the  unbribed  soul,  the  manlier  indifference,  the  paying 
our  way  by  what  we  are  or  do  and  not  by  what  we  have, 
the  right  to  fling  away  our  life  at  any  moment  irresponsibly, 
the  more  athletic  trim,  in  short,  the  moral  fighting  shape. 
When  we  of  the  so-called  better  classes  are  scared  as  men 
were  never  scared  in  history  at  material  ugliness  and 
hardship  ;  when  we  put  off  marriage  until  our  house  can 
be  artistic,  and  quake  at  the  thought  of  having  a  child 
without  a  bank-account  and  doomed  to  manual  labour, 
it  is  time  for  thinking  men  to  protest  against  so  unmanly 
and  irreligious  a  state  of  opinion .... 

One  hears  of  the  mechanical  equivalent  of  heat.  What 
we  now  need  to  discover  in  the  social  realm  is  the  moral 
equivalent  of  war  :  something  heroic  that  will  speak  to 
men  as  universally  as  war  does,  and  yet  will  be  as  compatible 
with  their  spiritual  selves  as  war  has  proved  itself  to  be 
incompatible.  I  have  often  thought  that  in  the  old 
monkish  poverty-worship,  in  spite  of  the  pedantry  which 
infested  it,  there  might  be  something  like  that  moral 
equivalent  of  war  which  we  are  seeking.  May  not  volun 
tarily  accepted  poverty  be  "  the  strenuous  life,"  without 
the  need  of  crushing  weaker  peoples  ? 

Poverty  indeed  is  the  strenuous  life,  without  brass 
bands  or  uniforms  or  hysteric  popular  applause  or  lies  or 
circumlocutions  ;  and  when  one  sees  the  way  in  which 
wealth-getting  enters  as  an  ideal  into  the  very  bone  and 
marrow  of  our  generation,  one  wonders  whether  a  revival 
of  the  belief  that  poverty  is  a  worthy  religious  vocation 
may  not  be  "  the  transformation  of  military  courage," 
and  the  spiritual  reform  which  our  time  stands  most  in 
need  of. , 


(II) 

There  are  thousands  of  conjunctures  in  which  a  wealth- 
bound  man  must  be  a  slave,  whilst  a  man  for  whom  poverty 
has  no  terrors  becomes  a  free-man.  Think  of  the  strength 
which  personal  indifference  to  poverty  would  give  us  if 
we  were  devoted  to  unpopular  causes.  We  need  no  longer 
hold  our  tongues  or  fear  to  vote  the  revolutionary  or 
reformatory  ticket.  Our  stocks  might  fall,  our  hopes  of 
promotion  vanish,  our  salaries  stop,  our  club  doors  close 
in  our  faces  ;  yet,  while  we  lived,  we  would  imperturbably 
bear  witness  to  the  spirit,  and  our  example  would  help 
to  set  free  our  generation.  The  cause  would  need  its  funds, 
but  we  its  servants  would  be  potent  in  proportion  as 
we  personally  were  contented  with  our  poverty. 

I  recommend  this  matter  to  your  serious  pondering, 
for  it  is  certain  that  the  prevalent  fear  of  poverty  among 
the  educated  classes  is  the  worst  moral  disease  from  which 
our  civilisation  suffers. 

WILLIAM  JAMES  (1842-1910), 

'  Varieties  of  Religious  Experience.' 


IF  you  wished  to  breed  lions,  you  would  not  care  about 
the  costliness  of  their  dens,  but  about  the  habits  of  the 
animals  ;  so,  if  you  attempt  to  preside  over  your  citizens, 
be  not  so  anxious  about  the  costliness  of  the  buildings  as 
careful  about  the  manly  character  of  those  who  dwell  in 
them. 

If  you  wish  your  house  to  be  well  managed,  imitate 
the  Spartan  Lycurgus.  For  as  he  did  not  fence  his  city 
with  walls,  but  fortified  the  inhabitants  by  virtue  and 
preserved  the  city  always  free  ;  so  do  you  not  cast  around 
your  house  a  large  court  and  raise  high  towers,  but 
strengthen  the  dwellers  by  good  will  and  fidelity  and 
friendship,  and  then  nothing  harmful  will  enter  it,  not 
even  if  the  whole  band  of  wickedness  shall  array  itself 
against  it. 

EPICTETUS  (A.D.  50), 

(Trans,  by  George  Long). 


(12) 

SELF-TRUST    is   the   essence   of   heroism Its   jest 
is  the  littleness  of  common  life.     That  false  prudence 
which  dotes  on  health  and  wealth  is  the  butt  and  merriment 
of  heroism.     Heroism,  like  Plotinus,  is  almost  ashamed  of 
its  body. . . . 

The  brave  soul  rates  itself  too  high  to  value  itself  by 
the  splendour  of  its  table  and  draperies.  It  gives  what 
it  hath,  and  all  it  hath,  but  its  own  majesty  can  lend  a 
better  grace  to  bannocks  and  fair  water  than  belong  to 
city  feasts .... 

It  does  not  ask  to  dine  nicely,  and  to  sleep  warm. 
The  essence  of  greatness  is  the  perception  that  virtue  is 
enough.  Poverty  is  its  ornament.  It  does  not  need 
plenty,  and  can  very  well  abide  its  loss. 

RALPH  WALDO  EMERSON  (1803-1882), 
Essay  on  '  Heroism.' 


IF  I  believed  that  Mammonism  with  its  adjuncts  was 
to  continue  henceforth  the  one  serious  principle  of  our 
existence,  I  should  reckon  it  idle  to  solicit  remedial  measures 
from  any  Government,  the  disease  being  insusceptible  of 
remedy. 

Government  can  do  much,  but  it  can  in  no  wise  do  all. 
Government,  as  the  most  conspicuous  object  in  Society 
is  called  upon  to  give  signal  of  what  shall  be  done  ;  and,  in 
many  ways,  to  preside  over,  further,  and  command  the 
doing  of  it.  But  the  Government  cannot  do,  by  all  its 
signalling,  and  commanding,  what  the  Society  is  radically 
indisposed  to  do.  In  the  long-run  every  Government  is 
the  exact  symbol  of  its  People,  with  their  wisdom  and  un 
wisdom  ;  we  have  to  say,  Like  People,  like  Government 

But  it  is  my  firm  conviction  that  the  "  Hell  of  Eng 
land  "  will  cease  to  be  that  of  not  "  making  money "  ; 
that  we  shall  get  a  nobler  Hell  and  a  nobler  Heaven  ! 
I  anticipate  light  in  the  human  chaos,  glimmering,  shining 
more  and  more.... Our  deity  no  longer  being  Mammon, 
O  Heavens,  each  man  will  then  say  to  himself  :  "  Why 
such  deadly  haste  to  make  money  ?  I  shall  not  go  to  Hell, 


(13) 

even  if  I  do  not  make  money  !  There  is  another  Hell 
I  am  told  !  "  Competition  at  railway  speed,  in  all  branches 
of  commerce  and  work  will  then  abate. . .  .Bubble-periods, 
with  their  panics  and  commercial  crises,  will  then  become 
infrequent,  steady  modest  industry  will  take  the  place  of 
gambling  speculation.  To  be  a  noble  Master,  among 
noble  Workers,  will  again  be  the  first  ambition  with  some 
few  ;  to  be  a  rich  Master,  only  the  second.  How  the 
inventive  Genius  of  England,  with  the  whirr  of  its  bobbins 
and  billyrollers  shoved  somewhat  into  the  backgrounds  of 
the  brain,  will  contrive  and  devise,  not  the  cheaper  produce 
exclusively,  but  fairer  distribution  of  the  produce  at  its 
present  cheapness !  By  degrees,  we  shall  again  have  a 
Society  with  something  of  Heroism  in  it,  and  something  of 
Heaven's  Blessing  on  it. 

THOMAS  CARLYLE  (1795-1881), 

*  Past  and  Present.' 


IF  the  government  is  from  the  heart 
the  people  will  be  richer  and  richer. 
If  the  government  is  full  of  restrictions 
the  people  will  be  poorer  and  poorer. 


Miserable  !  you  rely  upon  coming  happiness. 

Happy  !  you  crouch  under  the  dread  of  coming  misery. 

You  may  know  the  end  from  the  beginning. 


If  a  ruler  is  in  line  with  Inner  Life 
his  strategy  will  come  right, 
his  bad  luck  will  become  good, 
and  the  people  will  be  astonished. 
Things  have  been  so  for  a  long  time. 


d4) 

That  is  why  the  self-controlled  man* 
is  just  and  hurts  no  one, 
is  disinterested  and  does  no  wrong, 
is  true  and  takes  no  licence  ; 
he  shines  and  offends  not  by  his  brightness. 

LAO  Tzu  (B.C.  604), 

'  Tao  Teh  King.' 
(Trans,  by  Dr.  Isabella  Mears). 

*The  man  whose  trust  lies  in  the  riches  of  his  inner  life, 
and  not  in  outward  possessions. 


WE  live  in  an  age  of  science  abounding  in  the  accumula 
tion  of  material  things.     Things  of  the  spirit  must 
come   first.     Unless   we   cling   to   that,   all   our   material 
prosperity,  overwhelming  though  it  may  appear,  will  turn 
to  a  barren  sceptre  in  our  grasp. 

PRESIDENT  COOLIDGE  (zoth  Century), 
Independence  Day  Speech. 


IN  our  mythology  we  have  the  legend  that  the  man 
who  performs  penances  for  attaining  immortality  has 
to  meet  with  temptations  sent  by  Indra,  the  Lord  of  the 
Immortals.  If  he  is  lured  by  them  he  is  lost.  The  West 
has  been  striving  for  centuries  after  its  goal  of  immortality. 
Indra  has  sent  her  the  temptation  to  try  her.  It  is  the 
gorgeous  temptation  of  wealth.  She  has  accepted  it, 
and  her  civilization  of  humanity  has  lost  its  path  in  the 
wilderness  of  machinery. 

This  commercialism  with  its  barbarity  of  ugly  decora 
tions  is  a  terrible  menace  to  all  humanity,  because  it  is 
setting  up  the  ideal  of  power  over  that  of  perfection. 
It  is  making  the  cult  of  self-seeking  exult  in  its  naked 
shamelessness.  Our  nerves  are  more  delicate  than  our 
muscles.  Things  that  are  the  most  precious  in  us  are  as 
helpless  as  babes  when  we  take  away  from  them  the  careful 


('5) 

protection  which  they  claim  from  us  for  their  very  pre- 
ciousness.  Therefore,  when  the  callous  rudeness  of  power 
runs  amuck  in  the  broadway  of  humanity  it  scares  away 
by  its  grossness  the  ideals  which  we  have  cherished  with 
the  martyrdom  of  centuries. 

The  temptation  which  is  fatal  for  the  strong  is  still 
more  so  for  the  weak.  And  I  do  not  welcome  it  in  our 
Indian  life,  even  though  it  be  sent  by  the  Lord  of  the 
Immortals.  Let  our  life  be  simple  in  its  outer  aspect 
and  rich  in  its  inner  gain. 

From  the  above  you  will  know  that  I  am  not  an  econo 
mist.  I  am  willing  to  acknowledge  that  there  is  a  law  of 
demand  and  supply  and  an  infatuation  of  man  for  more 
things  than  are  good  for  him.  And  yet  I  will  persist  in 
believing  that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  the  harmony  of 
completeness  in  humanity,  where  poverty  does  not  take 
away  his  riches,  where  defeat  may  lead  him  to  victory, 
death  to  immortality,  and  where  in  the  compensation  of 
Eternal  Justice  those  who  are  the  last  may  yet  have  their 
insult  transmuted  into  a  golden  triumph. 

RABINDRANATH  TAGORE  (zoth  Century), 
1  Nationalism.' 


LET  us  consider  for  a  moment  what  most  of  the  trouble 
and  anxiety  which  I  have  referred  to  is  about,  and  how 
much  it  is  necessary  that  we  be  troubled,  or  at  least,  careful. 
It  would  be  some  advantage  to  live  a  primitive  and  frontier 
life,  though  in  the  midst  of  an  outward  civilisation,  if  only 
to  learn  what  are  the  gross  necessaries  of  life,  and  what 
methods  have  been  taken  to  obtain  them ....  For  the  im 
provements  of  ages  have  had  but  little  influence  on  the 
essential  laws  of  man's  existence  ;  as  our  skeletons,  probably, 
are  not  to  be  distinguished  from  those  of  our  ancestors. 

By  the  words,  necessary  of  life,  I  mean  whatever,  of 
all  that  man  obtains  by  his  own  exertions,  has  been  from 
the  first  or  from  long  use  has  become,  so  important  to 
human  life  that  few,  if  any,  whether  from  savageness,  or 
poverty,  or  philosophy,  ever  attempt  to  do  without  it 


The  necessaries  of  life  for  man  in  this  climate  may, 
accurately  enough,  be  distributed  under  the  several  heads 
of  Food,  Shelter,  Clothing,  and  Fuel ;  for  not  till  we  have 
secured  these  are  we  prepared  to  entertain  the  true  problems 
of  life  with  freedom  and  a  prospect  of  success .... 

At  the  present  day,  and  in  this  country,  as  I  find  by 
my  own  experience,  a  few  implements — a  knife,  an  axe,  a 
spade,  a  wheelbarrow,  etc.,  and  for  the  studious,  lamplight, 
stationery,  and  access  to  a  few  books — rank  next  to  neces 
saries,  and  can  all  be  obtained  at  a  trifling  cost.  Yet  some, 
not  wise,  go  to  the  other  side  of  the  globe,  to  barbarous  and 
unhealthy  regions,  and  devote  themselves  to  trade  for  ten 
or  twenty  years,  in  order  that  they  may  live — that  is,  keep 
comfortably  warm — and  die  in  New  England  at  last .... 

Most  of  the  luxuries,  and  many  of  the  so-called  comforts 
of  life,  are  not  only  not  indispensable,  but  positive  hindrances 
to  the  elevation  of  mankind.  With  respect  to  luxuries  and 
comforts,  the  wisest  have  ever  lived  a  more  simple  and 
meagre  life  than  the  poor.  The  ancient  philosophers — 
Chinese,  Hindoo,  Persian,  and  Greek — were  a  class  than 
which  none  has  been  poorer  in  outward  riches,  none  so 
rich  in  inward .... 

The  same  is  true  of  the  more  modern  reformers  and 
benefactors  of  their  race.  None  can  be  an  impartial  or 
wise  observer  of  human  life  but  from  the  vantage  ground 
of  what  we  should  call  voluntary  poverty. 

HENRY  DAVID  THOREAU  (1817-1862). 

'  Walden.' 


THERE  is  no  sin  greater  than  desire, 
There  is  no  misfortune  greater  than  discontent, 
There  is  no  calamity  greater  than  the  wish  to  acquire, 
Therefore  to  be  satisfied  is  an  everlasting  sufficiency. 

LAO  Tzu  (B.C.  604), 

'  Tao  Teh  King.' 
(Trans,  by  Dr.  Isabella  Mears). 


THE  essence  of  the  Christian  revelation  is  the  proclama 
tion  of  a  standard  of  absolute  values,  which  contradicts 
at  every  point  the  estimates  of  good  and  evil  current  in 
'  the  world.'  It  is  not  necessary,  in  such  an  essay  as  this, 
to  write  out  the  Beatitudes,  or  the  very  numerous  passages 
in  the  Gospels  and  Epistles  in  which  the  same  lessons  are 
enforced.  It  is  not  necessary  to  remind  the  reader  that  in 
Christianity  all  the  paraphernalia  of  life  are  valued  very 
lightly ;  that  all  the  good  and  all  the  evil  which  exalt  or 
defile  a  man  have  their  seat  within  him,  in  his  own  cha 
racter  ;  that  we  are  sent  into  the  world  to  suffer  and  to 
conquer  suffering ;  that  it  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to 
receive  ;  that  love  is  the  great  revealer  of  the  mysteries  of 
life  ;  that  we  have  here  no  continuing  city,  and  must 
therefore  set  our  affections  and  lay  up  our  treasures  in 
heaven  ;  that  the  things  that  are  seen  are  temporal,  and  the 
things  that  are  not  seen  are  eternal.  This  is  the  Christian 
religion.  It  is  a  form  of  idealism  ;  and  idealism  means  a 
belief  in  absolute  or  spiritual  values. 

When  applied  to  human  life,  it  introduces,  as  it  were, 
a  new  currency,  which  demonetises  the  old  ;  or  gives  us  a 
new  scale  of  prices,  in  which  the  cheapest  things  are  the 
dearest,  and  the  dearest  the  cheapest. 

The  world's  standards  are  quantitative ;  those  of 
Christianity  are  qualitative.  And  being  qualitative, 
spiritual  goods  are  unlimited  in  amount ;  they  are  increased 
by  being  shared  ;  and  we  rob  nobody  by  taking  them. 

DEAN  INGE  (zoth  Century), 
'  Outspoken  Essays.' 


do  the  best  for  yourself,  is  finally  to  do  the  best 
for  others."  Friends,  our  great  Master  said  not  so  ; 
and  most  absolutely  we  shall  find  this  world  is  not  made 
so.  Indeed,  to  do  the  best  for  others,  is  finally  to  do  the 
best  for  ourselves,  but  it  will  not  do  to  have  our  eyes  fixed 
on  that  issue.  The  Pagans  had  got  beyond  that.  Hear 
what  a  Pagan  says  of  this  matter  ;  hear  what  were,  perhaps, 
the  lait  written  words  of  Plato — if  not  the  last  actually 


(18) 

written  (for  this  we  cannot  know),  yet  assuredly  in  fact 
and  power  his  parting  words .... 

It  is  the  close  of  the  dialogue  called  *  Critias,'  in  which 
he  describes,  partly  from  real  tradition,  partly  in  ideal 
dream,  the  early  state  of  Athens ....  And  this,  he  says, 
was  the  end ;  that  indeed  "  through  many  generations, 
so  long  as  the  God's  nature  in  them  yet  was  full,  they  were 
submissive  to  the  sacred  laws,  and  carried  themselves 
lovingly  to  all  that  had  kindred  with  them  in  divineness ; 
for  their  uttermost  spirit  was  faithful  and  true,  and  in 
everywise  great ;  so  that,  in  all  meekness  of  wisdom,  they 
dealt  with  each  other,  and  took  all  the  chances  of  life  ; 
and  despising  all  things  except  virtue,  they  cared  little  what 
happened  day  by  day,  and  bore  lightly  the  burden  of  gold 
and  of  possessions  ;  for  they  saw  that,  if  only  their  common 
love  and  virtue  increased,  all  these  things  would  be  increased 
together  with  them  ;  but  to  set  their  esteem  and  ardent 
pursuit  upon  material  possession,  would  be  to  lose  that  first, 
and  their  virtue  and  affection  together  with  it. 

"  And  by  such  reasoning,  and  what  of  the  divine  nature 
remained  in  them,  they  gained  all  this  greatness  of  which 
we  have  already  told  ;  but  when  the  God's  part  of  them 
faded  and  became  extinct,  being  mixed  again  and  again, 
and  effaced  by  the  prevalent  mortality ;  and  the  human 
nature  at  last  exceeded,  they  then  became  unable  to  endure 
the  courses  of  fortune  ;  and  fell  into  shapelessness  of  life, 
and  baseness  in  the  sight  of  him  who  could  see,  having 
lost  everything  that  was  fairest  of  their  honour  ;  while 
to  the  blind  hearts  which  could  not  discern  the  true  life, 
tending  to  happiness,  it  seemed  that  they  were  then  chiefly 
noble  and  happy,  being  filled  with  all  iniquity  of  inordinate 
possession  and  power.  Whereupon,  the  God  of  Gods, 
whose  Kingdom  is  in  laws,  beholding  a  once  just  nation 
thus  cast  into  misery,  and  desiring  to  lay  such  punishment 
upon  them  as  might  make  them  repent  into  restraining, 
gathered  together  all  the  gods  into  his  dwelling-place, 
which  from  heaven's  centre  overlooks  whatever  has  part 
in  creation  ;  and  having  assembled  them,  he  said  " — 

The  rest  is  silence.  So  ended  are  the  last  words  of 
the  chief  wisdom  of  the  heathen,  spoken  of  this  idol  of 


(19) 

riches ;  this  idol  of  yours  ;  this  golden  image,  high  by 
measureless  cubits,  set  up  where  your  green  fields  of  England 
are  furnace-burnt  into  the  likeness  of  the  plain  of  Dura  : 
this  idol,  forbidden  to  us,  first  of  all  idols,  by  our  own 
Master  and  faith ;  forbidden  to  us  also  by  every  human  lip 
that  has  ever,  in  any  age  or  people,  been  accounted  of  as 
able  to  speak  according  to  the  purposes  of  God.  Continue 
to  make  that  forbidden  deity  your  principal  one,  and  soon 
no  more  art,  no  more  science,  no  more  pleasure  will  be 
possible.  Catastrophe  wiU  come  ;  or,  worse  than  catas 
trophe,  slow  mouldering  and  withering  into  Hades.  But 
if  you  can  fix  some  conception  of  a  true  human  state  of 
life  to  be  striven  for — life  for  all  men  as  for  yourselves — 
if  you  can  determine  some  honest  and  simple  order  of 
existence  ;  following  those  trodden  ways  of  wisdom,  which 
are  pleasantness,  and  seeking  her  quiet  and  withdrawn 
paths,  which  are  peace  ;  then,  and  so  sanctifying  wealth 
into  "  common-wealth,"  all  your  art,  your  literature,  your 
daily  labours,  your  domestic  affection,  and  citizen's  duty, 
will  join  and  increase  into  one  magnificent  harmony. 

JOHN  RUSKIN  (1819-1900), 
'  Crown  of  Wild  Olive.' 


FOR  the  kingdom  of  God  is  not  meat  and  drink ;  but 
righteousness  and  peace,  and  joy  in  the  Holy  Spirit. 

Romans  xir. 


AS  for  gold  and  silver,  we  must  tell  them  that  they  are 
in  perpetual  possession  of  a  divine  species  of  the  precious 
metals  placed  in  their  souls  by  the  gods  themselves,  and 
therefore  have  no  need  of  the  earthly  ore  ;  that  in  fact  it 
would  be  profanation  to  pollute  their  spiritual  riches  by 
mixing  them  with  the  possession  of  mortal  gold,  because 
the  world's  coinage  has  been  the  cause  of  countless  impieties, 
whereas  theirs  is  undefiled  :  therefore  to  them,  as  distin 
guished  from  the  rest  of  the  people,  it  is  forbidden  to  handle 


(20) 

or  touch  gold  or  silver,  or  enter  under  the  same  roof  with 
them,  or  to  wear  them  on  their  dresses,  or  to  drink  out 
of  the  precious  metals.  If  they  follow  these  rules,  they 
will  be  safe  themselves  and  the  saviours  of  the  city :  but 
whenever  they  come  to  possess  lands,  and  houses,  and 
money  of  their  own,  they  will  be  householders  and  cul 
tivators  instead  of  guardians,  and  will  become  hostile 
masters  of  their  fellow-citizens  rather  than  their  allies ; 
and  so  they  will  spend  their  whole  lives,  hating  and  hated, 
plotting  and  plotted  against,  standing  in  more  frequent 
and  intense  alarm  of  their  enemies  at  home  than  of  their 
enemies  abroad  ;  by  which  time  they  and  the  rest  of  the 
city  will  be  running  on  the  very  brink  of  ruin. 

'  The  Republic  of  Plato,5  Book  III. 
(B.C.  427-347). 


r  I  ^HOSE  who  would  build  our  civilization  on  the  basis 
J-  of  materialism  only  will  find  themselves  on  the  pathway 
to  perdition. 

Rev.  H.  R.  L.  SHEPPARD  (2Oth  Century). 


NO  one  will  dispute  that  the  world  to-day  is  indulging 
in  an  orgy  of  egoism.  All  classes  are  egoistic — the 
capitalist,  the  commercial,  the  political,  the  working  class ; 
the  churches  also  cannot  be  exonerated  from  the  charge. 
Profiteering,  strikes,  lock-outs,  all  are  evidence  of  the  fact 
that  everyone  is  out  to  get  what  he  can  for  himself,  without 
thought  of  others.  Bolshevism,  which  sacrifices  for  one 
section  of  society  every  other  section ;  Sinn  Feinism,  which 
means  literally  "  Ourselves  alone,"  are  modern  epitomes 
of  egoism  run  riot 

The  laws  controlling  the  evolution  of  society  are 
indeed  the  exact  reverse  of  those  responsible  for  the  evolu 
tion  of  the  individual.  In  the  jungle  stage  of  life,  the 


(21) 

keynote  of  success  is  satisfaction — egoism — and  the  most 
valuable  qualities  are  physical.  When  there  is  no  social 
law,  and  everyone  has  to  fight  literally  for  his  existence, 
physical  force  decides  survival,  and  the  physically  weaker 
perish.  In  short,  egoism  and  physical  force  are  essentials 
of  survival.  But  in  social  life  the  keynote  of  success  is 
self-sacrifice — altruism — and  the  most  valuable  qualities  are 
spiritual  ideals  and  moral  obligations — the  obligations  of 
one  individual  to  another,  of  one  class  to  another,  of  one 
nation  to  another.  If  the  rich,  for  instance,  are  not  willing 
to  sacrifice  some  of  the  riches  they  have  secured  in  the 
struggle  for  survival,  in  other  words  to  be  taxed,  and 
heavily  taxed,  for  the  benefit  of  those  who  have  been  less 
successful  in  the  struggle  :  if  the  workers  are  not  willing 
to  make  some  concessions  in  the  way  of  liberty,  time,  and 
energy,  for  the  benefit  of  the  community  :  if  employers 
whittle  wages  down  to  the  lowest  living  wage,  and  if  the 
workers,  in  revenge,  give  the  scantiest  minimum  of  labour  : 
if  all  fight  together  to  exhaustion,  on  every  possible  occasion, 
by  strikes  and  lock-outs — the  result  is  social  ruin,  and 
society  cannot  hold  together  ;  for  trade  and  prosperity 
no  longer  tamely  follow  the  flag,  they  follow  peace.  In 
short,  not  egoism  and  the  physical  forces,  but  altruism  and 
the  moral  and  spiritual  forces,  are  the  essentials  of  social 
survival. 

Mrs.  M.  A.  STOBART, 

The  Hibbert  Journal,  April,  1922. 


"  I  "HIS  know  also,  that  in  the  last  days  perilous  times 
-L  shall  come. 

For  men  shall  be  lovers  of  their  own  selves,  covetous, 
boasters,  proud. 

2  Timothy  iii. 


(22) 

IN  each  human  heart  terror  survives 
The  ravin  it  has  gorged.     The  loftiest  fear 
All  that  they  would  disdain  to  think  were  true : 
Hypocrisy  and  Custom  make  their  minds 
The  fanes  of  many  a  worship  now  outworn. 
They  dare  not  devise  good  for  man's  estate, 
And  yet  they  know  not  that  they  do  not  dare. 
The  good  want  power  but  to  weep  barren  tears : 
The  powerful  goodness  want — worse  need  for  them  : 
The  wise  want  love  :  and  those  who  love  want  wisdom  ; 
And  all  best  things  are  thus  confused  to  ill. 
Many  are  strong  and  rich,  and  would  be  just, 
But  live  among  their  suffering  fellow-men 
As  if  none  felt :  they  know  not  what  they  do. ... 
The  nations  thronged  around,  and  cried  aloud, 
As  with  one  voice,  "  Truth,  Liberty  and  Love  !  " 
Suddenly  fierce  confusion  fell  from  heaven 
Among  them  :  there  was  strife,  deceit  and  fear  : 
Tyrants  rushed  in,  and  did  divide  the  spoil. 
This  was  the  shadow  of  the  truth  I  saw. 

PERCY  BYSSHE  SHELLEY  (1792-1822), 
*  Prometheus  Unbound.' 


WAR  is  just  the  fruition,  on  a  national  scale,  of  a  habit 
of  thought  and  will,  cultivated  and  fostered  by  the 
conditions  in  which  people  ordinarily  have  to  get  their 
living.  As  long  as  these  conditions  encourage  the  desire 
to  get,  rather  than  the  love  of  giving,  and  put  a  premium 
on  possession  instead  of  on  service,  so  long  will  the  world 
be  liable  to  war. 

If  humanity  is  not  to  be  crucified  again  in  this  way, 
industrial  conditions  must  be  so  changed  that  the  children 
are  not  encouraged  and  even  forced  by  them  to  form 
these  habits  of  thought  and  will. 

Rev.  E.  J.  HAWKINS  (2oth  Century), 
*  The  Child.' 


(23) 

THE  peacemakers  are  precisely  those  who  strive  against 
strife,  who  pacify  and  establish  concord.     Love  of  self 
is  the  root  of  every  war — love  of  self  which  becomes  love 
of  riches,  pride  of  possession,  envy  of  them  who  are  more 
richly  endowed,  and  contempt  for  the  humble. 

GIOVANNI  PAPINI  (aoth  Century), 

«  The  Story  of  Christ.' 
(Trans,  by  Mary  Prichard  Agnetti.) 


HE  who  owns  nothing,  to  nothing  attached — him  call 
I  Brahmin 

Who  no  more  clings  to  delight  than  water  to  petal 
of  lotus  or  mustard-seed  to  point  of  awl — him  do  I  call 
Brahmin. 

Haunting  the  company  neither  of  householder  nor 
ascetic,  having  no  home,  wanting  but  little — such  an  one 
call  I  Brahmin. 

Friendly  among  the  hostile,  tranquil  among  the 
turbulent,  amid  the  grasping,  ungrasping — such  an  one 
call  I  Brahmin. 

From  whom  lust  and  hatred  and  pride  and  envy  have 
fallen  away  like  the  mustard-seed  from  the  point  of  the 
awl — him  call  I  Brahmin — 

From  the  *  Dhammapada,'  or  '  Way  of  Truth.' 

(5th  Century  B.C.) 
(Trans,  by  Silacara  (Bhikkhu). 


T^vETACHMENT  and  purity  go  hand  in  hand,  for 
•L-'  purity  is  but  detachment  of  the  heart ;  and  where 
these  are  present  they  bring  with  them  that  humble  spirit 
of  obedience  which  expresses  detachment  of  will.  We  may 
therefore  treat  them  as  three  manifestations  of  one  thing  : 
which  thing  is  Inward  Poverty.  "  Blessed  are  the  poor  in 
spirit,  for  theirs  is  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven,"  is  the  motto 
of  all  pilgrims  on  this  road 


(##) 

"  In  detachment  the  spirit  finds  quiet  and  repose, 
for  coveting  nothing,  nothing  wearies  it  by  elation  ;  and 
nothing  oppresses  it  by  dejection,  because  it  stands  in  the 
centre  of  its  own  humility.  For  as  soon  as  it  covets  any 
thing  it  is  immediately  fatigued  thereby." 

It  is  not  love  but  lust — the  possessive  case,  the  very 
food  of  self-hood — which  poisons  the  relation  between  the 
self  and  the  external  world  and  "  immediately  fatigues  "  the 
soul. . . . 

Accept  Poverty,  however,  demolish  ownership,  the 
verb  "  to  have "  in  every  mood  and  tense  and  this  down 
ward  drag  is  at  an  end.  At  once  the  Cosmos  belongs  to 
you  and  you  to  it.  You  escape  the  heresy  of  separateness, 
are  "  made  one,"  and  merged  in  "  the  greater  life  of  the 
All."  Then,  a  free  spirit  in  a  free  world,  the  self  moves 
upon  its  true  orbit  undistracted  by  the  largely  self-imposed 
responsibilities  of  ordinary  earthly  existence. 

This  was  the  truth  which  St.  Francis  of  Assisi  grasped 
and  applied  with  the  energy  of  a  reformer  and  the  delicate 
originality  of  a  poet  to  every  circumstance  of  the  inner 
and  the  outer  life.  This  noble  liberty  it  is  which  is  extolled 
by  his  spiritual  descendant  Jacopone  da  Todi,  in  one  of 
his  most  magnificent  odes : — 

Poverta  alto  sapere 
a  nulla  cosa  sojacere 
en  desprezo  possedere 
tutte  le  cose  create. . . . 

Dio  non  alberga  en  core  strecto 
tant'  e  grande  quantai  affecto 
povertate  ha  si  gran  pecto 
che  ci  alberga  deitate .... 

Povertate  e  nulla  havere 
et  nulla  cosa  poi  volere 
et  omne  cosa  possedere 
en  spirito  de  libertate. 


(25) 

(Oh  Poverty,  high  wisdom  !  to  be  subject  to  nothing 
and  by  despising  all  to  possess  all  created  things . . 

God  will  not  lodge  in  a  narrow  heart  ;  and  it  is  as  great 

as  thy  love. 

Poverty  has  so  ample  a  bosom  that  Deity  itself  may 
lodge  therein . . 

Poverty  is  naught  to  have  and  nothing  to  desire : 
but  all  things  to  possess  in  the  spirit  of  liberty.) 

EVELYN  UNDERBILL  (zoth  Century), 
'  An  Introduction  to  Mysticism.' 

THE  joy  which  is  dependent  upon  the  possession  of  the 
merely  visible  and  material  can  never  reach  the  inmost 
spirit  of  man,  even  were  such  possession  not,  at  best,  un 
certain  and  of  its  nature  transitory.  Nay,  the  joy  of  life, 
which  springs  from  man's  own  spirit,  is  impossible  to  him 
whose  heart  is  set  upon  the  merely  external  world.  For 
the  spiritual  and  the  material  are  in  immediate  aspect  a 
simple  antithesis  ;  so  that  where  the  one  is,  the  other 
cannot  be.  "  You  cannot  serve  God  and  mammon." 

FATHER  CUTHBERT,  O.S.F.C.  (zoth  Century), 

Commentary  on  *  The  Lady  Poverty.' 

AND  Joy  shall  overtake  us  as  a  flood, 
When  every  thing  that  is  sincerely  good 
And  perfectly  divine. 

With  Truth,  and  Peace,  and  Love,  shall  ever  shine 
About  the  supreme  throne 
Of  Him,  to  whose  happy-making  sight  alone 
When  once  our  heavenly-guided  soul  shall  climb; 
Then  all  this  earthly  grossness  quit, 
Attir'd  with  stars,  we  shall  forever  sit, 
Triumphing  over  Death,  and  Chance,  and  thee,  O  Time. 

JOHN  MILTON  (1608-1674), 
'  On  Time.' 


The  Poverty  of  Riches 


All  that  we  have  and  are  is  borrowed. 


II.    THE    POVERTY    OF    RICHES 

Soul,  the  centre  of  my  sinful  earth, 
-      Fool'd  by  these  rebel  powers  that  thee  array, 
Why  dost  thou  pine  within  and  suffer  dearth, 
Painting  thy  outward  walls  so  costly  gay  ? 
Why  so  large  cost,  having  so  short  a  lease, 
Dost  thou  upon  thy  fading  mansion  spend  ? 
Shall  worms,  inheritors  of  this  excess, 
Eat  up  thy  charge  ?     Is  this  the  bodie's  end  ? 
Then,  Soul,  live  thou  upon  thy  servant's  loss, 
And  let  that  pine,  to  aggravate  thy  store  ; 
Buy  terms  divine  in  selling  hours  of  dross  ; 
Within  be  fed,  without  be  rich  no  more  : — 
So  shalt  thou  feed  on  Death,  that  feeds  on  men, 
And  Death  once  dead,  there's  no  more  dying  then. 

WILLIAM  SHAKESPEARE  (1564-1616), 
Sonnet. 


CHRISTIAN.  This  town  of  Fair-speech  I  have  heard 
of,  and,  as  I  remember,  they  say  it  is  a  wealthy  place. 

BYENDS.  Yes,  I  will  assure  you  that  it  is ;  and  I  have 
very  many  rich  kindred  there. 

CHRISTIAN.  Pray  who  are  your  kindred  there,  if  a 
man  may  be  so  bold  ? 

BYENDS.  Almost  the  whole  town  ;  and,  in  particular, 
my  Lord  Turn-about,  my  Lord  Time-server,  my  Lord 
Fair-speech,  from  whose  ancestors  that  town  first  took 
its  name :  also  Mr.  Smooth-man,  Mr.  Facing-both-ways, 
Mr.  Anything ;  and  the  parson  of  our  parish,  Mr.  Two- 
tongues,  was  my  mother's  own  brother  by  father's  side  : 
and  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  am  become  a  gentleman  of  good 
quality,  yet  my  great-grandfather  was  but  a  waterman, 
looking  one  way  and  rowing  another,  and  I  got  most  of 
my  estate  by  the  same  occupation. 

JOHN  BUNYAN  (1628-1688), 

'  Pilgrim's  Progress.' 


(30) 


THOU  art  not  thyself  ; 

For  thou  exist'st  on  many  a  thousand  grains 
That  issue  out  of  dust.     Happy  thou  art  not ; 
For  what  thou  hast  not,  still  thou  striv'st  to  get. 
And  what  thou  hast,  forget'st 

If  thou  art  rich,  thou'rt  poor ; 
For,  like  an  ass  whose  back  with  ingots  bows, 
Thou  bear'st  thy  heavy  riches  but  a  journey, 
And  death  unloads  thee. 

WILLIAM  SHAKESPEARE  (1564-1616), 
c  Measure  for  Measure.' 


T^XTOL  not  riches  then,  the  toil  of  fools, 
±-<t  The  wise  man's  cumbrance,  if  not  snare,  more  apt 
To  slacken  virtue,  and  abate  her  edge, 
Than  prompt  her  to  do  aught  may  merit  praise. 

A  crown 

Golden  in  show,  is  but  a  wreath  of  thorns, 
Brings  dangers,  troubles,  cares,  and  sleepless  nights 
To  him  who  wears  the  regal  diadem. 

JOHN  MILTON  (1608-1674), 
*  Paradise  Regained.' 


<3O 

THE  time  was  once,  and  may  againe  retorne, 
(For  ought  may  happen,  that  hath  bene  beforne) 
When  shepeheards  had  none  inheritaunce, 
Ne  of  land,  nor  fee  in  sufferaunce, 
But  what  might  arise  of  the  bare  sheepe, 
(Were  it  more  or  lesse)  which  they  did  keepe. 
Well  ywis  was  it  with  shepheards  thoe  : 
Nought  having,  nought  feared  they  to  forgoe  ; 
For  Pan  himselfe  was  their  inheritaunce, 
And  little  them  served  for  their  mayntenaunce. 
The  shepheard's  God  so  wel  them  guided, 
That  of  nought  they  were  unprovided ; 
Butter  enough,  honye,  milke  and  whay, 
And  their  flockes  fleeces  them  to  arraye  : 
But  tract  of  time,  and  long  prosperitie, 
That  nource  of  vice,  this  of  insolencie, 
Lulled  the  shepheards  in  such  securitie, 
That,  not  content  with  loyall  obeysaunce, 
Some  gan  to  gape  for  greedie  governaunce, 
And  match  themselfe  with  mighty  potentates, 
Lovers  of  Lordship,  and  troublers  of  states. 
Tho  gan  shepheards  swaines  to  looke  aloft, 
And  leave  to  live  hard,  and  learne  to  ligge  soft ; 
Tho,  under  colour  of  shepheards,  somewhile 
There  crept  in  Wolves,  ful  of  fraude,  and  guile, 
That  often  devoured  their  owne  sheepe, 
And  often  the  shepheards  that  did  hem  keepe  : 
This  was  the  first  sourse  of  shepheards  sorrowe, 
That  now  nill  be  quitt  with  baile  nor  borrowe. 

EDMUND  SPENSER  (1552-1599), 
'  The  Shepheards  Calender.' 

IN  the  man  who  takes  no  heed,  craving  grows  great  like 
the  Maluva  creeper.     He  leaps  from  existence  to  exist 
ence,  like  the  monkey  in  the  forest  looking  for  fruit. 

Whoso  is  overcome  of  this  wretched  craving  and  lust, 

his  sorrows  grow  and  increase  like  Birana  grass  after  rain. 

But   whoso  overcomes  it,   this  wretched    craving  so 

difficult  to  overcome — his  sorrows  fall  from  him  as  the 

water-drop  falls  from  the  lotus. 


(3*) 

To  all  assembled  here  this  excellent  counsel  I  utter  : 
Dig  up  the  root  of  craving  like  the  digger  of  the  Birana 
grass  root.  Let  not  Mara  break  you  again,  and  again,  as 
the  river  the  reed. 

As  a  tree  cut  down  sprouts  forth  again  if  its  roots 
remain  uninjured  and  strong ;  so  the  propensity  to  craving 
not  being  done  away,  this  suffering  springs  up  again  and 
again. 

Beset  of  lust,  the  mass  of  men  run  this  way  and  that 
like  a  hunted  hare.  Wherefore  of  lust  be  rid,  6  Bhikkhu, 
that  aspirest  to  freedom  from  passion. 

Heavy  bonds,  say  the  wise,  are  not  those  that  are  made 
of  iron  or  wood  or  grass,  but  rather  ardent  delight  in  jewels 
and  ornament,  attachment  to  children  and  wives. 

A  weighty  bond  is  this,  declare  the  wise,  holding  men 
down,  and  loose  yet  hard  to  be  rid  of.  Cutting  this  off, 
some  take  to  the  homeless  life,  looking  not  back,  forsaking 
pleasure  and  lust. 

From  the  '  Dhammapada  '  or  l  Way  of  Truth.' 

(5th  Century,  B.C.) 
(Trans,  by  Silacara  (Bhikkhu).) 


VIRTUE  then  should  be  desired  by  all  men  more  than 
wealth,  which  is  dangerous  to  the  foolish ;  for  the 
wickedness  of  men  is  increased  by  wealth.  And  the  more 
a  man  is  without  sense,  the  more  violent  is  he  in  excess, 
for  he  has  the  means  of  satisfying  his  mad  desire  for 
pleasures. 

Epictetus  (A.D.  50), 

(Trans,  by  George  Long.) 

"PRISONER,  tell  me,  who  was  it  that  bound  you  ?  " 
L  "  It  was  my  master,"  said  the  prisoner.  "  I  thought 
I  could  outdo  everybody  in  the  world  in  wealth  and  power, 
and  I  amassed  in  my  own  treasure-house  the  money  due 
to  my  king.  When  sleep  overcame  me  I  lay  upon  the  bed 
that  was  for  my  lord,  and  on  waking  up  I  found  I  was 
a  prisoner  in  my  own  treasure-house." 


(33) 


"  Prisoner,  tell  me,  who  was  it  that  wrought  this 
unbreakable  chain  ?  " 

"  It  was  I,"  said  the  prisoner,  "  who  forged  this  chain 
very  carefully.  I  thought  my  invincible  power  would 
hold  the  world  captive,  leaving  me  in  a  freedom  undisturbed. 
Thus  night  and  day  I  worked  at  the  chain  with  huge  fires 
and  cruel  hard  strokes.  When  at  last  the  work  was  done 
and  the  links  were  complete  and  unbreakable,  I  found 
that  it  held  me  in  its  grip." 

RABINDRANATH  TAGORE  (2oth  Century), 
*  GitanjahV 


AND  the  people  asked  him,  saying,  What  shall  we  do 
then  ?     He  answereth  and  saith  unto  them,  He  that 
hath  two  coats,  let  him  impart  to  him  that  hath  none  ; 
and  he  that  hath  meat,  let  him  do  likewise. 

Then  came  also  publicans  to  be  baptised,  and  said 
unto  him,  Master,  what  shall  we  do  ? 

And  he  said  unto  them,  Exact  no  more  than  that 
which  is  appointed  you. 

And  the  soldiers  likewise  demanded  of  him,  saying, 
And  what  shall  we  do  ?  And  he  said  unto  them,  Do 
violence  to  no  man,  neither  accuse  any  falsely ;  and  be 
content  with  your  wages. 

Luke  iii. 


AND  when  he  was  gone  forth  into  the  way,  there  came 
one  running,  and  kneeled  to  him,  and  asked  him,  Good 
Master,  what  shall  I  do  that  I  may  inherit  eternal  life  ? 

And  Jesus  said  unto  him,  Why  callest  thou  me  good  ? 
there  is  none  good  but  one,  that  is,  God. 

Thou  knowest  the  commandments,  Do  not  commit 
adultery,  Do  not  kill,  Do  not  steal,  Do  not  bear  false  witness, 
Defraud  not,  Honour  thy  father  and  mother. 

And  he  answered  and  said  unto  him,  Master  all  these 
have  I  observed  from  my  youth. 


(34) 

Then  Jesus  beholding  him  loved  him,  and  said  unto 
him,  One  thing  thou  lackest :  go  thy  way,  sell  whatsoever 
thou  hast,  and  give  to  the  poor,  and  thou  shalt  have 
treasure  in  heaven :  and  come,  take  up  the  cross,  and 
follow  me. 

And  he  was  sad  at  that  saying,  and  went  away  grieved  : 
for  he  had  great  possessions. 

And  Jesus  looked  round  about,  and  saith  unto  his 
disciples,  How  hardly  shall  they  that  have  riches  enter 
into  the  kingdom  of  God  ! 

And  the  disciples  were  astonished  at  his  words. 

But  Jesus  answereth  again,  and  saith  unto  them, 
Children,  how  hard  is  it  for  them  that  trust  in  riches  to 
enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God  ! 

It  is  easier  for  a  camel  to  go  through  the  eye  of  a 
needle,  than  for  a  rich  man  to  enter  into  the  kingdom  of 
God! 

And  they  were  astonished  out  of  measure. 

Mark  x. 

O  CHILD  OF  PASSION  ! 

Cleanse  thyself  from  the  defilement  of  riches,  and  in 
perfect  peace,  enter  the  heavens  of  Poverty ;  then  from 
out  the  fountain  of  death,  thou  shalt  drink  the  wine  of 
immortal  life. 

0  MY  SERVANT  ! 

Detach  thyself  from  worldly  bonds,  and  escape 
from  the  prison  of  the  self.  Seize  the  passing  moment, 
for  it  will  return  to  thee  no  more. 

BAHA'U'LLAH  (1817-1892), 

(Trans,  from  the  Persian). 

'  I    '       l''  •'!  '  *•  -*T       i        ?  •"     '  ••    i  -1      .    ' 

OYE  that  are  Guardians  of  My  Treasures,  glorify  their 
use,  and  Me  in  them  !    Receive  with  joy  that  which 

1  have  entrusted  to  you  :  for,  in  your  hand,  the  tool  of  the 
worker  shall  become  the  sceptre  of  kings. 

O  My  Servant !  walk  thou  so,  that  thy  house  and 
thy  province  shall  rejoice  that  I  have  made  of  thee 
a  Steward  of  My  bounty. 


(35) 

It  was  said  of  old,  Give  a  tenth  of  thy  substance. 
I  say  not  unto  thee,  Give  a  tenth  !  All  shall  be  given  for 
Me  !  In  this  shall  be  thy  joy,  that  thou  art  the  Steward 
of  My  Love  ;  and  in  this  shall  men  envy  thee,  thy  delight 
to  give  ! 

A.  M.  BUCKTON  (zoth  Century), 

'  Words  out  of  the  Silence.' 


CUT  away  the  bond  of  thine  own  "  I  "  as  one  cuts  the 
lotus  in  autumn.  Give  thyself  to  following  the  path 
of  peace,  of  Nibbana  made  known  by  the  Blessed  One. 

"  Here  shall  I  live  in  the  season  of  rain  ;  here,  in  the 
cold  season  ;  here,  in  the  hot  "  ;  thus  to  himself  thinks 
the  fool,  all  unwitting  of  what  may  come  between. 

Then  that  man  whose  delight  is  in  abundance  of 
children  and  flocks,  his  mind  set  upon  having  and  holding, 
death  seizes  and  carries  him  off  as  a  great  flood  a  sleeping 
village. 

Refuge  is  none  in  children  or  father  or  kinsfolk.  When 
thou  thyself  art  assailed  of  death,  kinsmen  can  give  thee  no 
shelter. 

This  thing  thoroughly  knowing,  the  wise,  the  controlled 
in  conduct  delays  not  to  clear  for  himself  the  Way  that 
leads  to  Nibbana. 

From  the  *  Dhammapada,'  or  c  Way  of  Truth.' 

(5th  Century  B.C.) 
(Trans,  by  Silacara  (Bhikkhu).) 


B 


Y  the  practice  of  Inner  Life  stillness 
we  can  continually  conquer  all  things. 


By  the  practice  of  returning  to  possessions, 

nothing  that  we  conquer  will  be  sufficient  for  us. 

LAO  Tzu  (B.C.  604), 
'  Tao  Teh  King.' 
(Trans,  by  Dr.  Isabella  Mears.) 


NO  man  who  loves  money, and  loves  pleasure, and  loves 
fame,  also  loves  mankind,  but  only  he  who  loves  virtue. 

Examine  yourself  whether  you  wish  to  be  rich  or  to 
be  happy.  If  you  wish  to  be  rich,  you  should  know  that 
it  is  neither  a  good  thing  nor  at  all  in  your  power :  but 
if  you  wish  to  be  happy,  you  should  know  that  it  is  both 
a  good  thing  and  in  your  power,  for  the  one  is  a  temporary 
loan  of  fortune,  and  happiness  comes  from  the  will. 

As  it  is  better  to  lie  compressed  in  a  narrow  bed 
and  be  healthy  than  to  be  tossed  with  disease  on  a  broad 
couch,  so  also  it  is  better  to  contract  yourself  within  a 
small  competence  and  to  be  happy  than  to  have  a  great 
fortune  and  to  be  wretched. 

Epictetus  (A.D.  50), 

(Trans,  by  George  Long). 


FOR  most  men  in  a  brazen  prison  live, 
Where,  in  the  sun's  hot  eye, 
With  heads  bent  o'er  their  toil,  they  languidly 
Their  lives  to  some  unmeaning  taskwork  give, 
Dreaming  of  nought  beyond  their  prison-wall. 
And  as,  year  after  year, 
Fresh  products  of  their  barren  labour  fall 
From  their  tired  hands,  and  rest 
Never  yet  comes  more  near, 
Gloom  settles  slowly  down  over  their  breast ; 
And  while  they  try  to  stem 

The  waves  of  mournful  thought  by  which  they  are  prest, 
Death  in  their  prison  reaches  them, 
Unfreed,  having  seen  nothing,  still  unblest. 

MATTHEW  ARNOLD  (1822-1 
'  A  Summer  Night.' 


(37) 

WHEN  God  at  first  made  man, 
Having  a  glasse  of  blessings  standing  by, 
"  Let  us "  (said  He)  "  poure  on  him  all  we  can ; 
Let  the  world's  riches,  which  dispersed  lie, 
Contract  into  a  span." 

So  strength  first  made  a  way, 

Then  beautie  flow'd,  then  wisdome,  honour,  pleasure ; 

When  almost  all  was  out,  God  made  a  stay, 

Perceiving  that,  alone  of  all  His  treasure, 

Rest  in  the  bottome,  lay. 

"  For  if  I  should  "  (said  He), 
"  Bestow  this  Jewell  also  on  My  creature, 
He  would  adore  My  gifts  instead  of  Me, 
And  rest  in  Nature,  not  the  God  of  Nature : 
So  both  should  losers  be. 

Yet  let  him  keep  the  rest, 
But  keep  them  with  repining  restlessnesse ; 
Let  him  be  rich  and  wearie,  that  at  least, 
If  goodnesse  leade  him  not,  yet  wearinesse 
May  tosse  him  to  my  breast." 

GEORGE  HERBERT  (1593-1633). 
'  The  Pulley.' 


THOU  who  condemnest  Jewish  hate 
For  choosing  Barabbas  a  murderer 
Before  the  Lord  of  glorie, 
Look  back  upon  thine  own  estate, 
Call  home  thine  eye,  that  busie  wanderer, 
That  choice  may  be  thy  storie. 

He  that  doth  love,  and  love  amisse, 

This  world's  delights,  before  true  Christian  joy, 

Hath  made  a  Jewish  choice ; 
The  World  an  ancient  murderer  is ; 
Thousands  of  souls  it  hath  and  doth  destroy 

With  her  enchanting  voice. 


(38) 

He  that  hath  made  a  sorrie  wedding 

Between  his  soul  and  gold,  and  hath  preferr'd 

False  gain  before  the  true, 
Hath  done  what  he  condemns  in  reading ; 
For  he  hath  sold  for  money  his  deare  Lord, 

And  is  a  Judas-Jew. 

GEORGE  HERBERT  (1593-1633), 
1  Self-condemnation.' 


"\7'OU  will  find  it  quite  indisputably  true  that  whenever 
A  money  is  the  principal  object  of  life  with  either  man  or 
nation,  it  is  both  got  ill,  and  spent  ill ;  and  does  harm  both 
in  the  getting  and  the  spending ;  but  when  it  is  not  the 
principal  object,  it  and  all  other  things  will  be  well  got, 
and  well  spent.  And  here  is  the  test  with  every  man,  of 
whether  money  is  the  principal  object  with  him,  or  not. 
If  in  mid-life  he  could  pause  and  say,  "  Now  I  have  enough 
to  live  upon,  I'll  live  upon  it ;  and  having  well  earned  it, 
I  will  also  well  spend  it,  and  go  out  of  the  world  poor, 
as  I  came  into  it,"  then  money  is  not  principal  with  him  ; 
but  if,  having  enough  to  live  upon  in  the  manner  befitting 
his  character  and  rank,  he  still  wants  to  make  more,  and 
to  die  rich,  then  money  is  the  principal  object  with  him, 
and  it  becomes  a  curse  to  himself,  and  generally  to  those 
who  spend  it  after  him. 

JOHN  RUSKIN  (1819-1900), 
1  Crown  of  Wild  Olive.' 


MAMMON,  the  least  erected  spirit  that  fell 
From  heav'n  ;  for  ev'n  in  heaven  his  looks  and  thoughts 
Were  always  downward  bent,  admiring  more 
The  riches  of  heav'n's  pavement,  trodden  gold, 
Than  aught  divine  or  holy  else  enjoy'd 
In  vision  beatific. 

JOHN  MILTON  (1608-1674), 
*  Paradise  Lost.' 


(39) 


MONEY,  thou  bane  of  blisse  and  source  of  woe, 
Whence  com'st  thou,  that  thou  art  so  fresh  and  fine  ? 
I  know  thy  parentage  is  base  and  low — 

Man  found  thee  poore  and  dirtie  in  a  mine. 

Surely  thou  didst  so  little  contribute 

To  this  great  Kingdome  which  thou  now  hast  got, 
That  he  was  fain,  when  thou  wert  destitute, 

To  digge  thee  out  of  thy  dark  cave  and  grot, 

Then  forcing  thee,  by  fire  he  made  thee  bright : 
Nay,  thou  hast  got  the  face  of  man  ;  for  we 

Have  with  our  stamp  and  seal  transferred  our  right ; 
Thou  art  the  man,  and  man  but  drosse  to  thee. 

Man  calleth  thee  his  wealth,  who  made  thee  rich ; 
And  while  he  digs  out  thee,  falls  in  the  ditch. 

GEORGE  HERBERT  (1593-1633), 
*  Avarice.' 


HANKER  not  too  much  after  worldly  prosperity — that 
corpulent  cigar  ;  if  you  became  a  millionaire  you  would 
probably  go  swimming  around  for  more  like  a  diseased 
gold-fish. 

Look  to  it  that  what  you  are  doing  is  not  merely 
toddling  to  a  competency.  Perhaps  that  must  be  your 
fate,  but  fight  it  and  then,  though  you  fail,  you  may  still 
be  among  the  elect  of  whom  we  have  spoken.  Many 
a  brave  man  has  had  to  come  to  it  at  last.  But  there  are 
the  complacent  toddlers  from  the  start. 

Sir  JAMES  BARRIE  (zoth  Century), 
*  Courage.' 


(40) 

IN  cities  should  we  English  lie, 
Where  cries  are  rising  ever  new, 
And  men's  incessant  stream  goes  by, 
We  who  pursue 

Our  business  with  unslackening  stride, 

Traverse  in  troops,  with  care-filled  breast, 

The  soft  Mediterranean  side, 
The  Nile,  the  East, 

And  see  all  sights  from  pole  to  pole, 
And  glance,  and  nod,  and  bustle  by, 

And  never  once  possess  our  soul 
Before  we  die. 

MATTHEW  ARNOLD  (1822-1888). 
4  A  Southern  Night.' 


WHEN  I  first  paddled  a  boat  on  Walden,  it  was  com 
pletely  surrounded  by  thick  and  lofty  pine  and  oak 
woods,  and  in  some  of  its  coves  grape  vines  had  run  over 
the  trees  next  the  water  and  formed  bowers  under  which 
a  boat  could  pass.  The  hills  which  form  its  shores  are  so 
steep,  and  the  woods  on  them  were  then  so  high,  that, 
as  you  looked  down  from  the  west  end,  it  had  the  appearance 
of  an  amphitheatre  for  some  kind  of  sylvan  spectacle.  I 
have  spent  many  an  hour,  when  I  was  younger,  floating 
over  its  surface  as  the  Zephyr  willed,  having  paddled  my 
boat  to  the  middle,  and  lying  on  my  back  across  the  seats, 
in  a  summer  forenoon,  dreaming  awake,  until  I  was  aroused 
by  the  boat  touching  the  sand,  and  I  arose  to  see  what 
shore  my  fates  had  impelled  me  to — days  when  idleness 
was  the  most  attractive  and  productive  industry.  Many 
a  forenoon  have  I  stolen  away,  preferring  to  spend  thus 
the  most  valued  part  of  the  day  ;  for  I  was  rich,  if  not 

in  money,  in  sunny  hours  and  summer  days 

But  since  I  left  those  shores  the  wood-choppers  have 
still  further  laid  them  waste . . 


Flint's  Pond!.. .  .What  right  had  the  unclean  and 
stupid  farmer,  whose  farm  abutted  on  this  sky  water, 
whose  shores  he  has  ruthlessly  laid  bare,  to  give  his  name 
to  it  ?  Some  skinflint,  who  loved  better  the  reflecting 
surface  of  a  dollar,  or  a  bright  cent,  in  which  he  could  see 
his  own  brazen  face  ;  who  regarded  even  the  wild  ducks 
which  settled  in  it  as  trespassers .... 

I  respect  not  his  labours,  his  farm  where  everything 
has  its  price,  who  would  carry  the  landscape,  who  would 
carry  his  God,  to  market,  if  he  could  get  anything  for  him  ; 
....  whose  fields  bear  no  crops,  whose  meadows  no  flowers, 
whose  trees  no  fruits,  but  dollars  ;  who  loves  not  the  beauty 
of  his  fruits,  whose  fruits  are  not  ripe  for  him  till  they 
are  turned  to  dollars.  Give  me  the  poverty  that  enjoys 
true  wealth.  Farmers  are  respectable  and  interesting  to 
me  in  proportion  as  they  are  poor — poor  farmers .... 

White  Pond  and  Walden  are  great  crystals  on  the  sur 
face  of  the  earth,  Lakes  of  Light.  If  they  were  permanently 
congealed,  and  small  enough  to  be  clutched,  they  would, 
perchance,  be  carried  off  by  slaves,  like  precious  stones, 
to  adorn  the  heads  of  emperors  ;  but  being  liquid,  and 
ample,  and  secured  to  us  and  our  successors  for  ever,  we 
disregard  them,  and  run  after  the  diamond  of  Koh-i-noor. 
They  are  too  pure  to  have  a  market-value  ;  they  contain 
no  muck.  How  much  more  beautiful  than  our  lives, 
how  much  more  transparent  than  our  characters,  are  they  ! 
We  never  learned  meanness  of  them.  How  much  fairer 
than  the  pool  before  the  farmer's  door,  in  which  his  ducks 
swim  !  Hither  the  clean  wild  ducks  come.  Nature  has 
no  human  inhabitant  who  appreciates  her.  The  birds 
with  their  plumage  and  their  notes  are  in  harmony  with 
the  flowers,  but  what  youth  or  maiden  conspires  with  the 
wild  luxuriant  beauty  of  Nature  ?  She  flourishes  most 
alone,  far  from  the  towns  where  they  reside.  Talk  of  heaven, 
ye  disgrace  earth ! 

HENRY  DAVID  THOREAU  (1817-1862), 
'  Walden.' 


V-\\A 

ILL  fares  the  land,  to  hast'ning  ills  a  prey, 
Where  wealth  accumulates  and  men  decay. 
Princes  and  lords  may  flourish,  or  may  fade, 

A  breath  can  make  them,  as  a  breath  has  made, 
But  a  bold  peasantry,  their  country's  pride, 
When  once  destroyed,  can  never  be  supplied. 

A  time  there  was,  ere  England's  griefs  began, 

When  every  rood  of  ground  maintain'd  its  man  ; 

For  him  light  labour  spread  her  wholesome  store, 
Just  gave  what  life  requir'd  but  gave  no  more  : 

His  best  companions,  innocence  and  health  ; 
And  his  best  riches,  ignorance  of  wealth. 

But  times  are  alter'd  ;  trade's  unfeeling  train 
Usurp  the  land  and  dispossess  the  swain  ; 

Along  the  lawn  where  scatter'd  hamlets  rose, 
Unwieldy  wealth  and  cumbrous  pomp  repose  ; 

And  every  want  to  luxury  allied, 

And  every  pang  that  folly  pays  to  pride. 

Those  gentler  hours  that  plenty  bade  to  bloom, 
Those  calm  desires  that  ask'd  but  little  room, 

Those  healthful  sports  that  grac'd  the  peaceful  scene^ 
Liv'd  in  each  look,  and  brighten'd  all  the  green  ; 

These,  far  departing,  seek  a  kinder  shore, 

And  rural  mirth  and  manners  are  no  more.. 


Sweet  was  the  sound,  when  oft  at  ev'ning's  close, 

Up  yonder  hill  the  village  murmur  rose  ; 
There,  as  I  pass'd  with  careless  steps  and  slow, 

The  mingled  notes  came  softened  from  below ; 
The  swain  responsive  as  the  milkmaid  sung, 

The  sober  herd  that  low'd  to  meet  their  young, 
The  noisy  geese  that  gabbled  o'er  the  pool, 

The  playful  children  just  let  loose  from  school, 


(43) 

The  watch-dog's  voice  that  bay'd  the  whisp'ring  wind, 

And  the  loud  laugh  that  spoke  the  vacant  mind  ; 
These  all  in  sweet  confusion  sought  the  shade, 

And  filPd  each  pause  the  nightingale  had  made. 
But  now  the  sounds  of  population  fail, 

No  cheerful  murmurs  fluctuate  in  the  gale, 
No  busy  steps  the  grass-grown  foot-way  tread, 

But  all  the  blooming  flush  of  life  is  fled 

Near  yonder  copse,  where  once  the  garden  smil'd, 

And  still  where  many  a  garden  flower  grows  wild  ; 
There,  where  a  few  torn  shrubs  the  place  disclose, 

The  village  preacher's  modest  mansion  rose. 
A  man  he  was,  to  all  the  country  dear, 

And  passing  rich  with  forty  pounds  a  year, 
Remote  from  towns  he  ran  his  godly  race, 

Nor  e'er  had  changed,  nor  wish'd  to  change  his  place ; 
Unskilful  he  to  fawn,  or  seek  for  power 

By  doctrines  fashion'd  to  the  varying  hour ; 
Far  other  aims  his  heart  had  learn'd  to  prize, 

More  bent  to  raise  the  wretched  than  to  rise. . . . 

At  church,  with  meek  and  unaffected  grace, 

His  looks  adorn'd  the  venerable  place  ; 
Truth  from  his  lips  prevail'd  with  double  sway, 

And  fools  who  came  to  scoff,  remain'd  to  pray, 
The  service  past,  around  the  pious  man, 

With  steady  zeal,  each  honest  rustic  ran  : 
Ev'n  children  followed,  with  endearing  wile, 

And  pluck'd  his  gown,  to  share  the  good  man's  smile. 
His  ready  smile  a  parent's  warmth  exprest ; 

Their  welfare  pleas'd  him,  and  their  cares  distrest ; 
To  them  his  heart,  his  love,  his  griefs,  were  given, 

But  all  his  serious  thoughts  had  rest  in  Heaven. 
As  some  tall  cliff  that  lifts  its  awful  form, 

Swells  from  the  vale,  and  midway  leaves  the  storm, 
Though  round  its  breast  the  rolling  clouds  are  spread, 

Eternal  sunshine  settles  on  its  head . , 


(44) 

Near  yonder  thorn  that  lifts  its  head  on  high, 
Where  once  the  sign-post  caught  the  passing  eye, 

Low  lies  the  house  where  nut-brown  draughts  inspir'd, 
Where  grey-beard  mirth,  and  smiling  toil,  retir'd ; 

Where  village  statesmen  talked  with  looks  profound, 
And  news  much  older  than  their  ale  went  round. , 


Yes !  let  the  rich  deride,  the  proud  disdain, 
These  simple  blessings  of  the  lowly  train ; 

To  me  more  dear,  congenial  to  my  heart, 

One  native  charm,  than  all  the  gloss  of  art .... 

Ye  friends  of  truth,  ye  statesmen  who  survey 
The  rich  man's  joys  increase,  the  poor's  decay, 

'Tis  yours  to  judge,  how  wide  the  limits  stand 
Between  a  splendid  and  a  happy  land .... 

Yet  count  our  gains,  this  wealth  is  but  a  name 

That  leaves  our  useful  products  still  the  same. 
Not  so  the  loss.    The  man  of  wealth  and  pride, 

Takes  up  a  space  that  many  poor  supplied  ; 
Space  for  his  lake,  his  park's  extended  bounds, 

Space  for  his  horses,  equipage  and  hounds  ; 
The  robe  that  wraps  his  limbs  in  silken  cloth, 

Has  robb'd  the  neighbouring  fields  of  half  their  growth ; 
His  seat,  where  solitary  sports  are  seen, 

Indignant  spurns  the  cottage  from  the  green ; 
Around  the  world  each  needful  product  flies, 

For  all  the  luxuries  of  the  world  supplies, 
While  thus  the  land,  adorn'd  for  pleasure  all, 

In  barren  splendour  feebly  waits  the  fall 

O  Luxury ;  thou  curs'd  by  Heaven's  decree, 

How  iU  exchang'd  are  things  like  these  for  thee ! 

How  do  thy  potions  with  insidious  joy, 
Diffuse  their  pleasures  only  to  destroy  ! . . . . 


(45) 

And  them  sweet  Poetry,  thou  loveliest  maid, 

Still  first  to  fly,  where  sensual  joys  invade  ; . . . . 
Still  let  thy  voice,  prevailing  over  time, 

Redress  the  rigours  of  th'  inclement  clime ; 
Aid  slighted  truth,  with  thy  persuasive  strain, 

Teach  erring  man  to  spurn  the  rage  of  gain  ; 
Teach  him  that  states,  of  native  strength  possest, 

Though  very  poor,  may  still  be  very  blest ; 
That  trade's  proud  empire  hastes  to  swift  decay, 

As  ocean  sweeps  the  laboured  mole  away ; 
While  self-dependent  power  can  time  defy, 

As  rocks  resist  the  billows  and  the  sky. 

OLIVER  GOLDSMITH  (1728-1774), 
'  The  Deserted  Village.* 


HEAR  this,  O  ye  that  swallow  up  the  needy,  even  to 
make  the  poor  of  the  land  to  fail, 

Saying,  When  will  the  new  moon  be  gone,  that  we  may 
sell  corn?  and  the  Sabbath,  that  we  may  set  forth  wheat, 
making  the  ephah  small,  and  the  shekel  great,  and  falsifying 
the  balances  by  deceit  ? 

The  Lord  hath  sworn  by  the  excellency  of  Jacob, 
Surely  I  will  never  forget  any  of  their  works .... 

I  will  turn  your  feasts  into  mourning. 

Behold  the  days  come,  saith  the  Lord  God,  that  I 
will  send  a  famine  in  the  land,  not  a  famine  of  bread,  nor 
a  thirst  for  water,  but  of  hearing  the  words  of  the  Lord. 

Amos  viii. 


WE  say  that  we  are  civilized,  because  we  are  rich  and 
strong  and  have  acquired  more  knowledge.  But  to 
the  East  civilization  is  self-culture,  and  it  calls  us  uncivilized 
because  we  cultivate  everything  except  ourselves.  We 
surround  ourselves  with  comfort  and  with  beauty  and 
remain  unlovely  masters  of  it  all. 

H.  FIELDING  HALL  (20  Century), 
'The  Inward  Light.' 


(46) 


ARISE  up  England,  from  the  smoky  cloud 
That  covers  thee,  the  din  of  whirling  wheels  : 
Not  the  pale  spinner,  prematurely  bowed 

By  his  hot  toil,  alone  the  influence  feels 
Of  all  this  deep  necessity  for  gain  : 

Gain  still :  but  deem  not  only  by  the  strain 
Of  engines  on  the  sea  and  on  the  shore, 

Glory  that  was  thy  birthright  to  retain. 
O  thou  that  knewest  not  a  conqueror, 

Unchecked  desires  have  multiplied  in  thee, 
Till  with  their  bat-wings  they  shut  out  the  sun  : 

So  in  the  dusk  thou  goest  moodily, 
With  a  bent  head,  as  one  who  gropes  for  ore, 

Heedless  of  living  streams  that  round  him  run. 

Lord  HANMER  (1809-1881), 
'  Fra  Cipolla.' 


O    FRIEND  !  I  know  not  which  way  I  must  look 
For  comfort,  being,  as  I  am,  opprest, 
To  think  that  now  our  life  is  only  drest 

For  show  ;  mean  handywork  of  craftsman,  cook, 

Or  groom  I     We  must  run  glittering  like  a  brook 
In  the  open  sunshine,  or  we  are  unblest ; 

The  wealthiest  man  among  us  is  the  best : 
No  grandeur  now  in  Nature  or  in  book. 

Delights  us.     Rapine,  avarice,  expense, 

This  is  idolatry  ;  and  these  we  adore  : 
Plain  living  and  high  thinking  are  no  more. 

The  homely  beauty  of  the  good  old  cause 

Is  gone  ;  our  peace,  our  fearful  innocence, 
And  pure  religion  breathing  household  laws. 

WILLIAM  WORDSWORTH  (1770-1850), 
*  London,  1802.' 


(47) 


O  ENGLAND,  full  of  sinne,  but  most  of  sloth  ! 
Spit  out  thy  flegme,  and  fill  thy  breast  with  glorie. 
Thy  gentry  bleats,  as  if  thy  native  cloth 
Transfus'd  a  sheepishness  into  thy  storie  ; 
Not  that  they  all  are  so,  but  that  the  most 
Are  gone  to  grasse,  and  in  the  pasture  lost. 

This  losse  springs  chiefly  from  our  education  : 
Some  till  their  ground,  but  let  weeds  choke  their  sonne  ; 
Some  mark  a  partridge,  never  their  childe's  fashion  ; 
Some  ship  them  over,  and  the  thing  is  done. 

Studie  this  art,  make  it  thy  great  designe ; 

And  if  God's  image  move  thee  not,  let  thine. 

Some  great  estates  provide,  but  do  not  breed 

A  mast'ring  minde  ;  so  both  are  lost  thereby. 

Or  els  they  breed  them  tender,  make  them  need 

All  that  they  leave  ;  this  is  flat  povertie ; 

For  he  that  needs  five  thousand  pounds  to  live 
Is  full  as  poore  as  he  that  needs  but  five. 

The  way  to  make  thy  sonne  rich  is  to  fill 
His  minde  with  rest,  before  his  trunk  with  riches  : 
For  wealth  without  contentment  climbs  a  hill, 
To  feel  those  tempests  which  fly  over  ditches  ; 

But  if  thy  sonne  can  make  ten  pound  his  measure, 
Then  all  thou  addest  may  be  caU'd  his  treasure. 

Be  thrifty,  but  not  covetous  ;  therefore  give 
Thy  need,  thine  honour,  and  thy  friend  his  due. 
Never  was  scraper  brave  man.     Get  to  live  ; 
Then  live,  and  use  it ;  els  it  is  not  true 

That  thou  hast  gotten.     Surely  use  alone 

Makes  money  not  a  contemptible  stone. 

GEORGE  HERBERT  (1593-1633), 
1  The  Church  Porch.' 


(48) 


NOW  they  were  come  up  with  the  hill  Lucre,  where 
the  silver  mine  was,  which  took  Demas  off  from  his 
pilgrimage,  and  into  which,  as  some  think,  By-ends  fell 
and  perished  ;  wherefore  they  considered  that. 

But  when  they  were  come  to  the  old  monument. . .  .to 
wit,  to  the  pillar  of  salty  that  stood  also  within  view  of 
Sodom,  and  its  stinking  lake,  they  marvelled,  as  did 
Christian  before,  that  men  of  that  knowledge  and  ripeness 
of  wit,  as  they  were,  should  be  so  blind  as  to  turn  aside 
here. 

JOHN  BUNYAN  (1628-1688), 
'  Pilgrim's  Progress.' 


IT  is  with  the  hope  of  awakening  here  and  there  a  British 
man  to  know  himself  for  a  man  and  divine  soul,  that  a 
few  words  of  parting  admonition,  to  all  persons  to  whom 
the  Heavenly  Powers  have  lent  power  of  any  kind  in  this 
land,  may  now  be  addressed .... 

The  Leaders  of  Industry,  if  Industry  is  ever  to  be  led, 
are  virtually  the  Captains  of  the  World  !  If  there  be  no 
nobleness  in  them,  there  will  never  be  an  Aristocracy  more. 
But  let  the  Captains  of  Industry  consider  :  once  again,  are 
they  born  of  other  clay  than  the  old  Captains  of  Slaughter  ; 
doomed  forever  to  be  no  Chivalry,  but  a  mere  gold-plated 
Doggery — what  the  French  well  name  Canaille,  '  Doggery  r 
with  more  or  less  gold  carrion  at  its  disposal  ?  Captains 
of  Industry  are  the  true  Fighters ....  Fighters  against 
Chaos,  Necessity  and  the  Devils  and  Jotuns  ;  and  lead  on 
Mankind  in  that  great,  and  alone  true,  and  universal 
warfare ;  the  stars  in  their  courses  fighting  for  them .... 
Let  the  Captains  of  Industry  retire  into  their  own  hearts, 
and  ask  solemnly,  If  there  is  nothing  but  vulturous  hunger, 
for  fine  wines,  valet  reputation,  and  gilt  carriages,  dis 
coverable  there  ?  Of  hearts  made  by  the  Almighty  God, 
I  will  not  believe  such  a  thing.  Deep-hidden  under 
vrretchedest  god-forgetting  Cants,  Epicurisms there  is 


(49) 

yet,  in  all  hearts  born  into  this  God's-World,  a  spark  of  the 
Godlike  slumbering. 

Awake,  O  nightmare  sleepers ;  awake,  arise,  or  be  forever 
fallen  !  This  is  not  playhouse  poetry  ;  it  is  sober  fact. 
Our  England,  our  world  cannot  live  as  it  is.  It  will  connect 
itself  with  a  God  again,  or  go  down,  with  nameless  throes 
and  fire-consummation  to  the  Devils.  Thou  who  feelest 
aught  of  such  a  Godlike  stirring  in  thee,  any  faintest  in 
timation  of  it  as  through  heavy-laden  dreams,  follow  it, 
I  conjure  thee. 

Arise,  save  thyself,   be  one  of  those  that  save  thy 
country. 

THOMAS  CARLYLE  (1795-1881), 
*  Past  and  Present.5 


THICK  in  yon  stream  of  light,  a  thousand  ways, 
Upward  and  downward,  thwarting  and  convolved, 
The  quivering  nations  sport ;  till,  tempest  wing'd, 
Fierce  Winter  sweeps  them  from  the  face  of  day  ; 
Even  so,  luxurious  men,  unheeding,  pass 
An  idle  summer  life  in  fortune's  shine, 
A  season's  glitter !     Thus  they  flutter  on 
From  toy  to  toy,  from  vanity  to  vice  ; 
Till,  blown  away  by  death,  Oblivion  comes 
Behind,  and  strikes  them  from  the  book  of  life. 

JAMES  THOMSON  (1700-1748), 
*  Summer.' 


The  Riches  of  Poverty 


III.    THE  RICHES  OF  POVERTY 


T  T  NDER  the  greenwood  tree, 
**J      Who  loves  to  lie  with  me 
And  tune  his  merry  note 
Unto  the  sweet  bird's  throat, 
Come  hither,  come  hither,  come  hither ! 

Here  shall  he  see 

No  enemy 
But  winter  and  rough  weather. 

Who  doth  ambition  shun, 

And  loves  to  live  in  the  sun, 

Seeking  the  food  he  eats, 

And  pleased  with  what  he  gets, 

Come  hither,  come  hither,  come  hither  ! 

Here  shall  he  see 

No  enemy 
But  winter  and  rough  weather. 

WILLIAM  SHAKESPEARE  (1564-1616), 
'  As  You  Like  It.' 


THE  poverty  of  men  is  safe;  great  riches  are  exposed 
to  danger. 

PLATO  (B.C.  427-347), 
*  Phaedrus.' 


(54) 


O!  THE  great  happiness,  which  shepheards  have, 
Who  so  loathes  not  too  much  the  poore  estate, 
With  minde  that  ill  use  doth  before  deprave, 
Ne  measures  all  things  by  the  costly  rate 
Of  riotise,  and  semblants  outward  brave  ! 
No  such  sad  cares,  as  wont  to  macerate 
And  rend  the  greedie  mindes  of  covetous  men, 
Do  ever  creepe  into  the  shepheard's  den. 

Ne  cares  he  if  the  fleece,  which  him  arayes, 
Be  not  twice  steeped  in  Assyrian  dye  ; 
Ne  glistering  of  golde,  which  underlayes 
The  summer  beames,  doe  blind  his  gazing  eye  ; 
Ne  picture's  beautie,  nor  the  glauncing  rayes 
Of  precious  stones,  whence  no  good  commeth  by  ; 
Ne  yet  his  cup  embost  with  Imagery 
Of  Baetus  or  of  Alcon's  vanity. 

Ne  ought  the  whelky  pearles  esteemeth  hee, 
Which  are  from  Indian  seas  brought  far  away  ; 
But  with  pure  brest  from  carefull  sorrow  free, 
On  the  soft  grasse  his  limbs  doth  oft  display, 
In  sweete  spring  time,  when  flowres  varietie 
With  sundrie  colours  paints  the  sprinckled  lay  : 
There,  lying  all  at  ease  from  guile  or  spight, 
With  pype  of  fennie  reedes  doth  him  delight. 
There  he,  Lord  of  himselfe,  with  palme  bedight. 
His  looser  locks  doth  wrap  in  wreath  of  vine  : 
There  his  milk-dropping  Goats  be  his  delight, 
And  fruitefull  Pales,  and  the  forrest  greene, 
And  darksome  caves  in  pleasaunt  vallies  pight, 
Whereas  continuall  shade  is  to  be  scene, 
And  where  fresh  springing  wells,  as  christall  neate, 
Do  alwayes  flow  to  quench  his  thirstie  heate. 


(55) 


O  !  who  can  lead,  then,  a  more  happie  life 

Than  he,  that  with  cleane  minde,  and  heart  sincere, 

No  greedy  riches  knowes  nor  bloudie  strife, 

No  deadly  fight  of  warlick  fleete  doth  feare ; 

Ne  runs  in  perill  of  foes  cruell  knife, 

That  in  the  sacred  temples  he  may  reare 

A  trophee  of  his  glittering  spoyles  and  treasure, 

Or  may  abound  in  riches  above  measure. 

Of  him  his  God  is  worshipt  with  his  sythe, 

And  not  with  skill  of  craftsman  polished  : 

He  joyes  in  groves,  and  makes  himself e  full  blythe 

With  sundrie  flowers  in  wilde  fieldes  gathered  ; 

Ne  frankincens  he  from  Panchaea  buyth  : 

Sweete  quiet  harbours  in  his  harmless  head, 

And  perfect  pleasure  buildes  her  joyous  bowre, 

Free  from  sad  cares  that  rich  men's  hearts  devowre. 

This  all  his  care,  this  all  his  whole  indevour, 
To  this  his  minde  and  senses  he  doth  bend, 
How  he  may  flow  in  quiet's  matchles  treasour, 
Content  with  any  food  that  God  doth  send  ; 
And  how  his  limbs,  resolv'd  through  idle  leisour, 
Unto  sweete  sleepe  he  may  securely  lend 
In  some  coole  shadow  from  the  scorching  heat, 
The  whiles  his  flock  their  chawed  cuds  do  eate. 

O  flocks !  O  Faunes !  and  O  ye  pleasaunt  Springs 
Of  Tempe  !  where  the  countrey  Nymphs  are  rife, 
Through  whose  not  costly  care  each  shepheard  sings 
As  merrie  notes  upon  his  rusticke  Fife, 
As  that  Ascraean  bard,  whose  fame  now  rings 
Through  the  wide  world,  and  leads  as  joyfull  life  ; 
Free  from  all  troubles  and  from  worldly  toyle, 
In  which  fond  men  doe  all  their  dayes  turmoyle. 

EDMUND  SPENSER  (1552-1599), 
*  Virgil's  Gnat.' 


(56) 


HAS  God  cast  thy  lot  amongst  the  poor  of  this  world, 
by  denying  thee  the  plenties  of  this  life,  or  by  taking 
them  away  ?     This  may  be  preventing  mercy ;  for  much 
mischief  riches  do  to  the  sons  of  men. 

ROBERT  SOUTH  (1633-1716). 


FROM  the  Court  to  the  Cottage  convey  me  away  ! 
For  I'm  weary  of  grandeur,  and  what  they  call  "  gay  ' 
Where  Pride  without  measure 
And  Pomp  without  pleasure, 
Make  life,  in  a  circle  of  hurry,  decay. 

Far  remote  and  retired  from  the  noise  of  the  Town  ; 
I'll  exchange  my  brocade  for  a  plain  russet  gown ! 

My  friends  shall  be  few, 

But  well  chosen  and  true; 
And  sweet  recreation  our  evening  shall  crown  ! 

With  a  rural  repast,  a  rich  banquet  to  me, 

On  a  mossy  green  bank,  near  some  shady  old  tree, 

The  river's  clear  brink 

Shall  afford  me  my  drink  ; 
And  Temp'rance  my  friendly  Physician  shall  be  ! 

Ever  calm  and  serene,  with  contentment  still  blest, 
Not  too  giddy  with  joy,  or  with  sorrow  deprest, 

I'll  neither  invoke, 

Nor  repine  at,  Death's  stroke  ! 
But  retire  from  the  world,  as  I  would  to  my  rest. 

HENRY  CAREY  (d.  1743), 

*  Mrs.  Stuart's  Retirement.' 


(57) 

HOWEVER  mean  your  life  is,  meet  it  and  live  it ;  do  not 
shun  it  and  call  it  hard  names.  It  is  not  so  bad  as  you 
are.  It  looks  poorest  when  you  are  richest.  The  fault 
finder  will  find  faults  even  in  Paradise.  Love  your  life, 
poor  as  it  is.  You  may  perhaps  have  some  pleasant,  thrilling, 
glorious  hours,  even  in  a  poor-house.  The  setting  sun  is 
reflected  from  the  windows  of  the  almshouse  as  brightly 
as  from  the  rich  man's  abode  ;  the  snow  melts  before  its 
door  as  early  in  the  spring.  I  do  not  see  but  a  quiet  mind 
may  live  as  contentedly  there,  and  have  as  cheering  thoughts, 
as  in  a  palace.  The  town's  poor  seem  to  me  often  to  live 
the  most  independent  lives  of  any.  Maybe  they  are  simply 
great  enough  to  receive  without  misgiving.  Most  think  that 
they  are  above  being  supported  by  the  town ;  but  it  oftener 
happens  that  they  are  not  above  supporting  themselves  by 
dishonest  means,  which  should  be  more  disreputable. 
Cultivate  poverty  like  a  garden  herb,  like  sage.  Do  not 
trouble  yourself  much  to  get  new  things,  whether  clothes 
or  friends.  Turn  the  old  ;  return  to  them.  Things  do 
not  change  :  we  change.  Sell  your  clothes  and  keep  your 
thoughts.  God  will  see  that  you  do  not  want  society. 
If  I  were  confined  to  a  corner  of  a  garret  all  my  days,  like 
a  spider,  the  world  would  be  just  as  large  to  me  while  I 
had  my  thoughts  about  me.  The  philosopher  said  :  "  From 
an  army  of  three  divisions  one  can  take  away  its  general, 
and  put  it  in  disorder  ;  from  the  man  the  most  abject  and 
vulgar  one  cannot  take  away  his  thought."  Do  not  seek  so 
anxiously  to  be  developed,  to  subject  yourself  to  many 
influences  to  be  played  on  ;  it  is  all  dissipation.  Humility, 
like  darkness,  reveals  the  heavenly  lights.  The  shadows  of 
poverty  and  meanness  gather  around  us,  "  and  lo  !  creation 
widens  to  our  view."  We  are  often  reminded  that  if  there 
were  bestowed  on  us  the  wealth  of  Croesus,  our  aims  must 
still  be  the  same,  and  our  means  essentially  the  same. 
Moreover  if  you  are  restricted  in  your  range  by  poverty,  if 
you  cannot  buy  books  and  newspapers,  for  instance,  you 
are  but  confined  to  the  most  significant  and  vital  experi 
ences  ;  you  are  compelled  to  deal  with  the  material  which 
yields  the  most  sugar  and  the  most  starch.  It  is  life  near 
the  bone  where  it  is  sweetest.  You  are  defended  from  being 


(58) 

a  trifler.  No  man  loses  ever  on  a  lower  level  by  mag 
nanimity  on  a  higher.  Superfluous  wealth  can  buy  super 
fluities  only.  Money  is  not  required  to  buy  one  necessary 
of  the  soul. 

HENRY  DAVID  THOREAU  (1817-1862), 
'  Walden.' 

IT  is  easy  to  see  that  Franciscan  poverty  is  neither  to  be 
confounded  with  the  unfeeling  pride  of  the  stoic,  nor 
with  the  stupid  horror  of  all  joy  felt  by  certain  devotees ; 
St.  Francis  renounced  everything  only  that  he  might 
the  better  possess  everything.  The  lives  of  the  immense 
majority  of  our  contemporaries  are  ruled  by  the  fatal 
error  that  the  more  one  possesses  the  more  one  enjoys. 
Our  exterior,  civil  liberties  continually  increase,  but  at  the 
same  time  our  inward  freedom  is  taking  flight ;  how  many 
are  there  among  us  who  are  literally  possessed  by  what 
they  possess  ? 

Poverty  not  only  permitted  the  brothers  to  mingle 
with  the  poor  and  speak  to  them  with  authority,  but, 
removing  from  them  all  material  anxiety,  it  left  them  fret- 
to  enjoy  without  hindrance  those  hidden  treasures  which 
nature  reserves  for  pure  idealists. 

The  ever-thickening  barriers  which  modern  life,  with 
its  sickly  search  for  useless  comfort,  has  set  up  between 
us  and  nature  did  not  exist  for  these  men,  so  full  of  youth 
and  life,  eager  for  wide  spaces  and  the  outer  air. 

PAUL  SABATIER  (aoth  Century), 
*  Life  of  St.  Francis.' 

/^ONSIDER  the  lilies  how  they  they  grow;  they  toil 
^-s  not,  they  spin  not ;  and  yet  I  say  unto  you,  that  Solomon 
in  all  his  glory  was  not  arrayed  like  one  of  these. 

Take  no  thought  for  your  life-,  what  ye  shall  eat  ; 
neither  for  the  body,  what  ye  shall  put  on.  The  life  is 
more  than  meat,  and  the  body  is  more  than  raiment. 

Consider  the  ravens  :  for  they  neither  sow  nor  reap  ; 
which  neither  have  store-house  nor  barn  ;  and  God  feedeth 
them  :  how  much  more  are  ye  better  than  the  fowls  ? 

Luke  xii. 


(59) 


IN  whom  is  ended  lust  and  love  of  living  and  delusion, 
who  cares  naught  for  nourishment,  whose  abode  is 
emancipation,  empty,  and  independent  of  conditions,  like 
the  way  of  birds  in  air,  his  steps  are  hard  to  trace. 

Whose  senses  are  mastered  like  horses  well  under  their 
driver's  control,  who  is  purged  of  pride,  ended  with  lust 
and  love  of  life  and  delusion — such  an  one  even  the  gods 
do  envy. 

Tranquil  is  the  thought,  tranquil  the  word  and  deed 
of  him  who  is  delivered  and  brought  to  stillness  through 
the  perfection  of  wisdom. 

Be  it  in  village  or  in  forest,  on  land  or  on  sea,  where 
soever  the  Arahan*  dwells,  that  is  a  place  to  delight  in. 

Delightful  are  the  woods  where  the  crowd  finds  no 
delight.  The  Arahans,  the  passionless,  there  shall  find 
delight,  seeking  not  after  lust. 


Happy  indeed  we  live,  we  that  call  nothing  our  own. 
P'eeders  on  joy  we  shall  be,  like  to  the  radiant  gods. 


From  the  *  Dhammapada  ' 
or  '  Way  of  Truth  '  (5th  Century  B.C.), 
Trans,  by  Silacara  (Bhikkhu). 


*  In  Buddhism,  one  who  has  attained  to  the  Goal  of 
the  Path.  The  word  is  allied  to  "Ariya,"  which  (originally 
a  racial  term ;  as,  indeed,  it  is  employed  in  ethnology  today) 
had  then  come  to  indicate  nobility  of  character. 


(6o) 


T3ETWEEN  Tupino  and  the  stream  that  falls 

O     Down  from  the  hill  elect  of  blessed  Ubald, 
A  fertile  slope  of  lofty  mountain  hangs, 

From  which  Perugia  feels  the  cold  and  heat 
Through  Porta  Sole,  and  behind  it  weep 
Gualdo  and  Nocera  their  grievous  yoke. 

From  out  that  slope,  there  where  it  breaketh  most 
Its  steepness,  rose  upon  the  world  a  sun 
As  this  one  doth  sometimes  from  out  the  Ganges  ; 

Therefore  let  him  who  speaketh  of  that  place, 
Say  not  Ascesi,  for  he  would  say  little, 
But  Orient,  if  he  properly  would  speak. 

He  was  not  yet  far  distant  from  his  rising 
Before  he  had  begun  to  make  the  earth 
Some  comfort  from  his  mighty  virtue  feel. 

For  he  in  youth  his  father's  wrath  incurred 
For  certain  Dame,  to  whom,  as  unto  death, 
The  gate  of  pleasure  no  one  doth  unlock  ; 

And  was  before  his  spiritual  court 
Et  coram  patre  unto  her  united  ; 
Then  day  by  day  more  fervently  he  loved  her. 

She,  reft  of  her  first  husband,  scorned,  obscure, 
One  thousand  and  one  hundred  years  and  more, 
Waited  without  a  suitor  till  he  came 

But  that  too  darkly  I  may  not  proceed, 
Francis  and  Poverty  for  these  two  lovers 
Take  thou  henceforward  in  my  speech  diffuse. 

Their  concord  and  their  joyous  semblances, 
The  love,  the  wonder,  and  the  sweet  regard, 
They  made  to  be  the  cause  of  holy  thoughts  ; 

So  much  so  that  the  venerable  Bernard 

First  bared  his  feet,  and  after  so  great  peace 
Ran,  and  in  running,  thought  himself  too  slow. 

O  wealth  unknown  !     O  veritable  good  ! 

Giles  bares  his  feet  and  bares  his  feet  Sylvester 
Behind  the  bridegroom,  so  doth  please  the  bride  ! . . 

On  the  rude  rock  'twixt  Tiber  and  the  Arno 
From  Christ  did  he  receive  the  final  seal, 


Which  during  two  whole  years  his  members  bore. 
When  he,  who  chose  him  unto  so  much  good, 

Was  pleased  to  draw  him  up  to  the  reward 

That  he  had  merited  by  being  lowly. 
Unto  his  friars,  as  to  the  rightful  heirs. 

His  most  dear  Lady  did  he  recommend. 

And  bade  that  they  should  love  her  faithfully. 

DANTE  ALIGHIERI  (1265-1321), 

1  Paradiso  XI.' 
(H.  W.  Longfellow's  translation). 


JESUS  was  born  a  poor  child.  He  was  cradled  in  a 
manger.  In  youth,  he  lived  in  the  poor  household  of 
Joseph,  a  carpenter. 

In  early  manhood  he  became  more  poor.  It  is  written 
that  he  said,  "  Foxes  have  holes,  and  the  birds  of  the  air 
have  nests  ;  but  the  Son  of  man  hath  not  where  to  lay  his 
head." 

Yet  he  sought  not  worldly  riches,  but  said  rather, 
"  Blessed  are  the  poor  in  spirit,  for  theirs  is  the  kingdom 
of  heaven." 


O  THOU  MOST  POOR  JESUS,  grant  that  we  may  never 
seek,  as  our  treasure,  the  riches  of  this  world,  which 
perish,  while  corrupting  our  hearts  with  pride,  envy, 
jealousy  and  sloth  ;  but  that  we  may  seek,  instead,  the 
inward  peace  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  which  perishes 
not,  and  causes  not  strife,  but  increases  its  treasure  with 
every  new  heart  which  shares  it. 

A  PRAYER. 

(Author  unknown.) 


(62) 

I  HAD  gone  a-begging  from  door  to  door  in  the  village 
path,  when  thy  golden  chariot  appeared  in  the  distance 
like  a  gorgeous  dream  and  I  wondered  who  was  this  King 
of  all  kings! 

My  hopes  rose  high  and  methought  my  evil  days 
were  at  an  end,  and  I  stood  waiting  for  alms  to  be  given 
unasked  and  for  wealth  scattered  on  all  sides  in  the  dust. 

The  chariot  stopped  where  I  stood.  Thy  glance  fell 
on  me  and  thou  earnest  down  with  a  smile.  I  felt  that  the 
luck  of  my  life  had  come  at  last.  Then  of  a  sudden  thou 
didst  hold  out  thy  right  hand  and  say  "  What  hast  thou 
to  give  to  me  ?  " 

Ah,  what  a  kingly  jest  was  it  to  open  thy  palm  to  a 
beggar  to  beg !  I  was  confused  and  stood  undecided, 
and  then  from  my  wallet  I  slowly  took  out  the  least  little 
grain  of  corn  and  gave  it  to  thee. 

But  how  great  my  surprise  when  at  the  day's  end  I 
emptied  my  bag  on  the  floor  to  find  a  least  little  grain  of 
gold  among  the  poor  heap.  I  bitterly  wept  and  wished 
that  I  had  had  the  heart  to  give  thee  my  all. 

RABINDRANATH  TAGORE  (aoth  Century.) 
1  Gitanjali.' 


SUME  are  that  hase  reches  and  lufes  thaym,  and  thase 
are  the  haldande  and  the  covaytourse  of  this  worlde. 
Othere  are  that  hase  thayme  noghte  bot  thay  luffe  thayme, 
and  thay  walde  hafe  thayme  gladly,  and  thase  are  the 
wrechide  beggars  of  the  worlde,  and  the  false  folke  in  reli- 
gyone,  and  thase  are  as  riche  and  richere  thane  the  other 
(in  will).  And  of  thame  Ihesu  saise  in  the  gospelle,  that 
"  lyghtere  it  ware  a  camelle  to  passe  thurghe  a  nedill 
eghe,  than  the  riche  to  come  in  to  the  blysse  of  heven." 

Sume  are  that  hase  reches  bot  thay  lufe  thaym  noghte, 
noghte-for-thy  thay  will  wele  hafe  thame;  and  thase  are  the 
gud  mene  of  the  worlde  that  dispendis  wele  that  at  thay 
hase.  But  fone  are  of  thase  ! 

Yit  it  are  other  that  hase  noghte  reches,  ne  lufes 
noghte  thaym,  ne  will  noght  hafe  thame  :  and  thase  are 


(63) 

the  gude  folke  that  are  in  religione,  and  thase  are  sothe- 
fastely  pure,  and  thairs  es  the  loye  of  hevene,  ffor  that  es 
the  benysone  of  the  pure. 

Mirror  of  St.  Edmund  (1170-1240), 

Ms.  Thornton. 
(Trans,  probably  by  Richard  Rolle  of  Hampole.) 


WHAT  then,  in  the  last  resort,  is  the  source  of  this 
opposition  ;  the  true  reason  of  your  uneasiness,  your 
unrest  ?  The  reason  lies,  not  in  any  real  incompatibility 
between  the  interests  of  the  temporal  and  the  eternal 
orders  ;  which  are  but  two  aspects  of  one  Fact,  two  ex 
pressions  of  one  Love.  It  lies  solely  in  yourself  ;  in  your 
attitude  towards  the  world  of  things.  You  are  enslaved 
by  the  verb  "  to  have  "  :  all  your  reactions  to  life  consist 
in  corporate  or  individual  demands,  appetites,  wants .... 

The  very  mainspring  of  your  activity  is  a  demand 
either  for  a  continued  possession  of  that  which  you  have, 
or  for  something  which  as  yet  you  have  not :  wealth,  honour, 
success,  social  position,  love,  friendship,  comfort,  amuse 
ment  You  hold  tight  against  all  comers  your  own 

share  of  the  spoils.  You  are  rather  inclined  to  shirk  boring 
responsibilities  and  unattractive,  unremunerative  toil  ; 
are  greedy  of  pleasure  and  excitement,  devoted  to  the  art 
of  having  a  good  time.  If  you  possess  a  social  sense,  you 
demand  these  things  not  only  for  yourself  but  for  your 
tribe — the  domestic  or  racial  group  to  which  you  belong. 
These  dispositions,  so  ordinary  that  they  almost  pass 
unnoticed,  were  named  by  our  blunt  forefathers  the 
Seven  Deadly  Sins  of  Pride,  Anger,  Envy,  Avarice,  Sloth, 
Gluttony  and  Lust.  Perhaps  you  would  rather  call  them 
— as  indeed  they  are — the  seven  common  forms  of  egotism. . . 

It  is  therefore  by  the  withdrawal  of  your  will  from  its 
feverish  attachment  to  things,  till  "  they  are  under  thee 
and  thou  not  under  them,"  that  you  will  gradually  resolve 
the  opposition  between  the  recollective  and  the  active  sides 
of  your  personality.  By  diligent  self-discipline,  that 
mental  attitude  which  the  mystics  sometimes  call  poverty 


and  sometimes  perfect  freedom — for  these  are  two  aspects 
of  one  thing — will  become  possible  to  you.  Ascending 
the  mountain  of  self-knowledge  and  throwing  aside  your 
superfluous  luggage  as  you  go,  you  shall  at  last  arrive  at 
the  point  which  they  call  the  summit  of  the  spirit ;  where 
the  various  forces  of  your  character — brute  energy,  keen 
intellect,  desirous  heart — long  dissipated  amongst  a  thou 
sand  little  wants  and  preferences,  are  gathered  into  one, 
and  become  a  strong  and  disciplined  instrument  wherewith 
your  true  self  can  force  a  path  deeper  and  deeper  into  the 
heart  of  reality. 

EVELYN  UNDERBILL  (2oth  Century), 
*  Practical  Mysticism.' 


A  MAN  who  has  accustomed  himself  to  look  at  all  his 
circumstances  as  very  mutable,  to  carry  his  possessions, 
his  relations  to  persons,  and  even  his  opinions,  in  his  hand, 
and  in  all  these  to  pierce  to  the  principal  and  moral  law, 
and  everywhere  to  find  that — has  put  himself  out  of  the 
reach  of  all  scepticism;  and  it  seems  as  if  whatever  is 
most  affecting  and  sublime  in  our  intercourse,  in  our 
happiness,  and  in  our  losses,  tended  steadily  to  uplift  us 
to  a  life  so  extraordinary,  and,  one  might  say,  superhuman. 

RALPH  WALDO  EMERSON  (1803-1882), 
4  Essays.' 


BECAUSE  of  your  new  sensitiveness,  anthems  will  be 
heard  of  you  from  every  gutter,  poems  of  intolerable 
loveliness  will  bud  for  you  on  every  weed.  Best  and 
greatest,  your  fellow-men  will  shine  for  you  with  new 
significance  and  light.  Humility  and  awe  will  be  evoked 
in  you  by  the  beautiful  and  patient  figures  of  the  poor, 
their  long  dumb  heroisms,  their  willing  acceptance  of  the 
burden  of  life. 

EVELYN  UNDERBILL  (zoth  Century), 
*  Practical  Mysticism.' 


(65) 

THE  mystic  or  theist  is  never  scared  by  any  startling 
materialism.  He  knows  the  laws  of  gravitation  and  of 
repulsion  are  deaf  to  French  talkers,  be  they  never  so 
witty.  If  theology  shows  that  opinions  are  fast  changing, 
it  is  not  so  with  the  convictions  of  men  with  regard  to 
conduct.  These  remain.  The  most  daring  heroism,  the 
most  accomplished  culture,  or  rapt  holiness  never  exhausted 
the  claim  of  these  lowly  duties — never  penetrated  to  their 
origin,  or  was  able  to  look  behind  their  source.  We  cannot 
disenchant,  we  cannot  impoverish  ourselves,  by  obedience  ; 
but  by  humility  we  rise,  by  obedience  we  command,  by 
poverty  we  are  rich,  by  dying  we  live. 

RALPH  WALDO  EMERSON  (1803-1882), 
'  Essays.' 


OVER  and  above  the  mystery  of  self-surrender,  there 
are  in  the  cult  of  poverty  other  religious  mysteries. 
There  is  the  mystery  of  veracity :  "  Naked  came  I  into  the 
world,'7  etc.,  whoever  first  said  that,  possessed  this  mystery. 
My  own  bare  entity  must  fight  the  battle — shams  cannot 
save  me.  There  is  also  the  mystery  of  democracy,  or  sent 
iment  of  the  equality  before  God  of  all  his  creatures.  This 
sentiment  (which  seems  in  general  to  have  been  more 
widespread  in  Mohammedan  than  in  Christian  lands) 
tends  to  nullify  man's  usual  acquisitiveness.  Those  who 
have  it  spurn  dignities  and  honours,  privileges  and  advan 
tages,  preferring  to  grovel  on  the  common  level  before  the 
face  of  God.  It  is  not  exactly  the  sentiment  of  humility, 
though  it  comes  so  close  to  it  in  practice.  It  is  humanity, 
rather,  refusing  to  enjoy  anything  that  others  do  not  share. 
A  profound  moralist,  writing  of  Christ's  saying,  "  Sell  all 
thou  hast  and  follow  me,"  proceeds  as  follows :  "  Christ 
may  have  meant  :  If  you  love  mankind  absolutely  you  will 
as  a  result  not  care  for  any  possessions  whatever,  and  this 
seems  a  very  likely  proposition.  But  it  is  one  thing  to 
believe  that  a  proposition  is  probably  true  ;  it  is  another 
thing  to  see  it  as  a  fact.  It  would  be  obvious.  You  would 


(66) 

sell  your  goods,  and  they  would  be  no  loss  to  you.  These 
truths,  while  literal  to  Christ,  and  to  any  mind  that  has 
Christ's  love  for  mankind,  become  parables  to  lesser  natures 

Thus   the   whole    question   of   the   abandonment   of 
luxury  is  no  question  at  all,  but  a  mere  incident  to  another 
question,  namely,  the  degree  to  which  we  abandon  our 
selves  to  the  remorseless  logic  of  our  love  for  others." 
WILLIAM  JAMES  (1842-1910.), 

*  Varieties   of    Religious   Experience.' 


BECAUSE  the  storm  has  stript  us  bare 
Of  all  things  but  the  thing  we  are, 
Because  our  faith  requires  us  whole, 
And  we  are  seen  to  the  very  soul, 
Rejoice  !     From  now  all  meaner  fears  are  fled 

Because  we  have  no  prize  to  win 

Auguster  than  the  truth  within, 
And  by  consuming  of  the  dross 

Magnificently  lose  our  loss, 
Rejoice  !  We  have  not  vainly  borne  and  bled. 

Because  we  chose  beyond  recall 

And  for  dear  honour  hazard  all, 
And  summoned  to  the  last  attack 

Refuse  to  falter  or  look  back, 
Rejoice  !  We  die,  the  Cause  is  never  dead. 

LAURENCE  BINYON  (zoth  Century). 


(67) 

man  has  to  learn  the  points  of  compass  again 
J— -/  as  often  as  he  awakes,  whether  from  sleep  or  any 
abstraction.  Not  till  we  are  lost — in  other  words,  not  till 
we  have  lost  the  world — do  we  begin  to  find  ourselves, 
and  realise  where  we  are,  and  the  infinite  extent  of  our 
relations. 

HENRY  DAVID  THOREAU  (1817-1862), 
1  Walden.' 


THEREFORE  a  man  should  be  of  good  courage  concern 
ing  his  soul,  if  in  this  life  he  has  scorned  material 
delights  and  adornments  as  foreign  to  her  and  to  the 
perfecting  of  his  chosen  life.  He  will  have  applied  himself 
earnestly  to  Understanding,  and  having  adorned  his  soul,  not 
with  any  alien  ornament,  but  with  her  own  peculiar  jewels, 
Temperance,  Justice,  Courage,  Nobility  and  Truth,  he 
thus  awaits  his  journey  to  Hades,  in  readiness  to  start 
whenever  the  call  may  come. 

PLATO  (B.C.  427-347), 
'  Ph;edo.' 


MANY  men  rejoice  and  rejoice 
over  a  supply  of  good  food, 
over  being  in  a  high  and  exalted  position. 
I  am  calm,  I  do  not  feel  the  slightest  emotion, 
like   a    new-born   child  which  cannot  yet  smile    at   its 

mother, 

without  attachment  to  anything, 
returning  always  to  the  Inner  Life. 

Many  men  have  superfluous  possessions. 
I  have  nothing  that  I  value  ; 

I  desire  that  my  heart  be  completely  subdued, 

emptied  to  emptiness. 

Men  of  wealth  are  in  the  daylight  of  prosperity, 
I  am  in  the  dark. 


(68) 

Men  of  wealth  are  endowed  with  penetration, 

I  appear  confused  and  ignorant. 

Suddenly  I  am,  as  it  were,  on  a  vast  sea, 

floating  on  the  sea  of  Inner  Life  which  is  boundless. 

Many  men  are  full  of  ability. 
I  appear  to  be  stupid  and  rustic. 

Thus  am  I  different  from  other  men. 

But  I  revere  the  Mother,  Sustainer  of  all  beings. 

LAO  Tzu  (B.C.  604), 
1  Tao  Teh  King.' 
(Trans,  by  Dr.  Isabella  Mears.) 


EMPTY  this  ship,  O  Bhikkhu  ;  emptied,  lightly  will  it 
go  with  thee.  From  craving  and  hatred  cut  off, 
thence  shalt  thou  go  to  Nibbana. 

He  whose  house  is  emptied,  the  Bhikkhu  of  tran- 
quillised  mind,  joy  supernal  is  his  in  the  perfect  vision  of 
the  Teaching. 

Just  as  the  jasmine  sheds  its  withered  blossoms,  so 
O  Bhikkhus,  do  you  shed  craving  and  hatred. 

Subdued  in  deed,  subdued  in  word,  tranquil,  stilled, 
emptied  of  all  appetite  for  the  world — "  tranquillised,"  is 
such  a  Bhikkhu  called. 

Even  a  young  Bhikkhu  who  devotes  himself  to  the 
Teaching  of  the  Awakened  One,  he  lights  up  this  world 
like  the  moon  emerging  from  behind  a  cloud. 

From  the  "  Dhammapada,' 
or  '  Way  of  Truth  '  (5th  Century  B.C.). 

(Trans,  by  Silacara  (Bhikkhu).) 


(69) 

THE  world  salle  them  over-corn  thorow  covaytyng  of 
Cristes  luf,  and  thynkynge  of  his  swete  name,  and 
desire  til  heven  ;  for  als  son  as  thou  feles  savowr  in  Ihesu, 
the  wille  thynke  alle  the  werlde  noght  hot  vanite  and  noye 
for  mennys  saules. 

Thou  wil  noght  covayte  than  to  be  ryche,  to  have 
many  mantils  and  faire,  many  kirtils,  many  dreurise,  hot 
alle  thou  wil  set  at  noght,  and  despise  alle,  and  take  na 
mare  than  the  nedes. 

The  wille  thynke  twa  mantils  or  ane  Inogh,  that 
nowe  has  fyfe  or  sex ;  for-thi  gyf  som  til  Crist  that  gas 
naked  and  pore,  and  hald  noght  til  the  alle  : 

The  devyl  is  overcommen  when  thou  standis  stabilly 
agayns  alle  his  fandynges,  in  sothfaste  charite  and  mekenes. 

RICHARD  ROLLE  OF  HAMPOLE  (1290-1349). 
Ms.  Rawl. 


HP  HE  sterre  led  the  thre  kynges  in  to  Bethleem  :  there 
A       thei  fonde  Crist  in  swethil-cloutes  simpli,  as  a  poure 
childe.     Tharby  understonde  that  whiles  thou  art  in  pryde 
and  vanite,  thou  fyndest  hym  not. 

How  may  thou  for  schame,  that  art  bot  servant,  with 
mony  clothes  and  riche  folowe  thi  spouse  and  thi  lord, 
that  went  in  on  kirtil :  and  thou  trailest  as  myche  bihynde 
the,  as  al  that  he  had  on  ? 

RICHARD  ROLLE  OF  HAMPOLE  (1290-1349), 
Ms.  Rawl. 


THE  nakedness  of  the  indigent  world  might  be  clothed 
from  the  trimmings  of  the  vain. 

OLIVER  GOLDSMITH  (1728-1774), 

'  The  Vicar  of  Wakefield.' 


(70) 

BUT  nowe  may  thou  say  to  me  :  " how  sulde  I  that  es 
in  Relygyone,  and  noghte  hase  to  gyffe  at  etc  ne  at 
drynke,  ne  clathes  to  the  nakede,  ne  herbery  to  the  her- 
berles,  ffor  I  am  at  other  mens  will  and  noghte  at  mine 
awene  ?  ffor-thi  ware  it  better  that  I  ware  seculere,  that 
I  myghte  do  thire  werkes  of  mercy."  A,  dere  frende,  be 
noghte  begylede.  Better  it  es  to  hafe  pete  and  compassione 
in  thi  herte  of  hym  that  hase  mysese  and  wrechednes,  thane 
thou  hade  all  this  worlde  to  gyffe  for  charyte  :  ffor  it  es 
bettir  wyth  compassione  to  gyffe  thi-selfe,  als  thou  erte, 
than  it  es  to  gyffe  that  that  thou  hase.  Therefore,  dere 
frende,  gyffe  thi-selfe,  and  than  gyffes  thou  mare  than  es 
in  all  this  worlde 

THE  MIRROR   OF  ST.  EDMUND  (1170-1240), 

Ms.  Thornton. 
(Trans,   probably  by  Richard  Rolle  of  Hampole.) 


AND  he  looked  up,  and  saw  the  rich  men  casting  their 
gifts  into  the  treasury. 

And  he  saw  also  a  certain  poor  widow  casting  in  thither 
two  mites. 

And  he  said,  Of  a  truth  I  say  unto  you,  that  this  poor 
widow  hath  cast  in  more  than  they  all : 

For  all  these  have  of  their  abundance  cast  in  unto 
the  offerings  of  God  :  but  she  of  her  penury  hath  cast  in 
all  the  living  that  she  had. 

Luke  xxi. 

ART  thou  poor,  yet  hast  thou  golden  slumbers  ? 
O  sweet  content ! 
Art  thou  rich,  yet  is  thy  mind  perplexed  ? 

O  punishment ! 

Dost  thou  laugh  to  see  how  fools  are  vexed 
To  add  to  golden  numbers,  golden  numbers  ? 

O  sweet  content !  O  sweet,  O  sweet  content ! 
Work  apace,  apace,  apace,  apace  ; 
Honest  labour  bears  a  lovely  face  ; 
Then  hey  nonny,  nonny — hey  nonny,  nonny ! 


(7O 

Canst  drink  the  waters  of  the  crisped  spring  ? 

O  sweet  content ! 
Swimm'st  thou  in  wealth,  yet  sink'st  in  thine  own  tears  ? 

O  punishment ! 

Then  he  that  patiently  want's  burden  bears, 
No  burden  bears,  but  is  a  king,  a  king ! 

O  sweet  content !  O  sweet,  O  sweet  content ! 
Work  apace,  apace,  apace,  apace  ; 
Honest  labour  bears  a  lovely  face  ; 
Then  hey  nonny,  nonny — hey  nonny,  nonny ! 

THOMAS  DEKKER  (b.  1570), 
1  The  Happy  Heart/ 


N  OW  as  they  were  going  along,  and  talking,  they  espied 
a  boy  feeding  his  father's  sheep.  The  boy  was  in  very 
mean  clothes,  but  of  a  fresh  and  well-favoured  countenance  ; 
and  as  he  sat  by  himself  he  sung.  "  Hark,"  said  Mr.  Great- 
heart  "  to  what  the  shepherd's  boy  saith  " :  so  they  hearkened, 
and  he  said  : — 

"  He  that  is  down,  needs  fear  no  fall ; 

He  that  is  low,  no  pride  : 
He  that  is  humble  ever  shall 

Have  God  to  be  his  guide. 
I  am  content  with  what  I  have, 

Little  be  it  or  much  : 
And,  Lord,  contentment  still  I  crave, 

Because  thou  savest  such. 
Fulness  to  such  a  burden  is 

That  go  on  pilgrimage  : 
Here  little,  and  hereafter  bliss, 

Is  best  from  age  to  age  ! " 

Then  said  the  guide,  "  Do  you  hear  him  ?  I  will 
dare  to  say,  this  boy  lives  a  merrier  life,  and  wears  more 
of  the  herb  called  hear? s-ease  in  his  bosom,  than  he  that 
is  clad  in  silk  and  velvet." 

JOHN  BUNYAN  (1628-1688), 
*  Pilgrim's  Progress.' 


WELL  then ;  I  now  do  plainly  see, 
This  busy  world  and  I  shall  ne'er  agree  ; 
The  very  honey  of  all  earthly  joy 

Does  of  all  meats  the  soonest  cloy. 
And  they,  methinks,  deserve  my  pity, 

Who  for  it  can  endure  the  stings, 
The  crowd,  the  buzz,  and  murmurings 
Of  this  great  hive,  the  city. 

Ah !  yet,  ere  I  descend  to  th'  grave, 

May  I  a  small  house  and  large  garden  have ! 
And  a  few  friends,  and  many  books,  both  true, 

Both  wise,  and  both  delightful  too  ! 
And  since  love  ne'er  will  from  me  flee, 

A  mistress  moderately  fair, 
And  good  as  guardian-angels  are, 

Only  belov'd,  and  loving  me ! 

ABRAHAM  COWLEY  (1618-1667), 


BECAUSE  I  was  content  with  these  poor  fields, 
Low  open  meads,  slender  and  sluggish  streams, 
And  found  a  home  in  haunts  which  others  scorned, 
The  partial  wood-gods  overpaid  my  love, 

And  granted  me  the  freedom  of  their  state. . . . 
And  through  my  rock-like,  solitary  wont 

Shot  million  rays  of  thought  and  tenderness .... 

For  there's  no  rood  has  not  a  star  above  it, 

The  cordial  quality  of  pear  or  plum 
Ascends  as  gladly  in  a  single  tree 

As  in  broad  orchards  resonant  with  bees 

And,  chiefest  prize,  I  found  true  liberty 
In  the  glad  home  plain-dealing  Nature  gave. 
The  polite  found  me  impolite  ;  the  great 

Would  mortify  me,  but  in  vain  ;  for  still 
I  am  a  willow  of  the  wilderness, 

Loving  the  wind  that  bent  me.     All  my  hurts 
My  garden  spade  can  heal .... 


(73) 

For  thus  the  wood-gods  murmured  in  my  ear : 
""  Dost  love  our  manners,  canst  thou  silent  lie  ? 
Canst  thou,  thy  pride  forgot,  like  Nature  pass 
Into  the  winter  night's  extinguished  mood  ? 

Canst  thou  shine  now,  then  darkle, 
And  being  latent  feel  thyself  no  less  ? 

As,  when  the  all-worshipped  moon  attracts  the  eye, 
The  river,  hill,  stems,  foliage  are  obscure, 

Yet  envies  none,  none  are  enviable." 

RALPH  WALDO  EMERSON  (1803-1882). 
*  Musket aquid.' 


IS  there  for  honest  Poverty 
That  hings  his  head,  an*  a'  that ; 
The  coward  slave — we  pass  him  by, 

We  dare  be  poor  for  a'  that ! 
For  a'  that,  an'  a'  that, 

Our  toils  obscure  an*  a*  that, 
The  rank  is  but  the  guinea's  stamp, 
The  Man's  the  gowd  for  a'  that. 

What  though  on  hamely  fare  we  dine, 

Wear  hoddin  grey,  an'  a'  that ; 
Gie  fools  their  silks,  and  knaves  their  wine, 

A  Man's  a  Man  for  a'  that : 
For  a'  that,  an'  a'  that, 

Their  tinsel  show,  an'  a'  that ; 
The  honest  man,  tho'  e'er  sae  poor, 

Is  king  o'  men  for  a*  that. 

Ye  see  yon  birkie  ca'd  "  a  lord," 

Wha  struts,  an'  stares,  an'  a'  that ; 
Tho'  hundreds  worship  at  his  word, 

He's  but  a  coof  for  a'  that : 
For  a'  that,  an'  a'  that, 

His  ribband,  star,  an'  a'  that ; 
The  man  o'  independent  mind, 

He  looks  an'  laughs  at  a'  that. 


(74) 

A  prince  can  mak  a  belted  knight, 

A  marquis,  duke,  an'  a'  that ; 
But  an  honest  man's  aboon  his  might, 

Gude  faith,  he  mauna  fa'  that ! 
For  a'  that,  an'  a'  that, 

Their  dignities,  an'  a'  that ; 
The  pith  oj  sense,  an'  pride  o'  worth, 

Are  higher  rank  than  a'  that. 

Then  let  us  pray  that  come  it  may 

(As  come  it  will  for  a'  that), 
That  Sense  and  Worth  o'er  a'  the  earth, 

Shall  bear  the  gree,  an'  a'  that. 
For  a'  that,  an'  a'  that, 

Its  comin'  yet  for  a'  that, 
That  Man  to  Man,  the  world  o'er, 

Shall  brothers  be  for  a'  that. 

ROBERT  BURNS  (1759-1796), 

1  A  Man's  a  Man  for  a'  that/ 


THE  greater  the  man,  the  less  he  needs. 

VON  MOLTKE  (1800-1891). 


NOT  to  desire  to  be  ministered  unto,  but  rather  to 
minister ;  never  to  make  it  my  object  to  live  in  ease, 
plenty,  luxury,  and  independence. 

MATTHEW  ARNOLD  (1822-1888). 

From  his  "  Notebook." 


'OR  thy  body  require  few  comforts,  that  thy  powers 
may  unveil  to  thee  their  wonder,  and  suffice  thee  ! 

A.  M.  BUCKTON  (2oth  Century), 

*  Words  out  of  the  Silence/ 


(75) 

T3  ETTER  is  a  dinner  of  herbs  where  love  is,  than  a  stalled 
ox  and  hatred  therewith. 

Proverbs  xv. 


MAKE  your  manner  of  eating  neither  luxurious  nor 
gloomy,  but  lively  and  frugal,  that  the  soul  may  not 
be   perturbed   through   being  deceived   by  the   pleasures 
of  the  body,  and  that  it  may  despise  them. 

EPICTETUS  (A.D.  50). 

(Trans,  by  George  Long). 


WE   must   remember   that   our   portion  of  temporal 
things   is   but   food   and   raiment.     God  hath  not 
promised  us  coaches  and  horses,  rich  houses  and  jewels, 
Syrian  silks  and  Persian  carpets. 

JEREMY  TAYLOR  (1613-1667). 


THE  needs  of  different  people  vary,  th«  rich  are  not  to 
be  required  to  use  the  same  food  as  the  poor,  but  may 
have  such  food  as  their  infirmity  has  made  necessary  for 
them,  while  at  the  same  time  they  ought  to  lament  that 
they  require  this  indulgence. 

SAINT  AUGUSTINE  (353-430). 


(76) 


I  HATE  the  prostitution  of  the  name  of  friendship  to 
signify  modish  and  worldly  alliances.  I  much  prefer 
the  company  of  ploughboys  and  tin-peddlers  to  the  silken 
and  perfumed  amity  which  celebrates  its  days  of  encounter 
by  a  frivolous  display,  by  rides  in  a  curricle,  and  dinners 
at  the  best  taverns. 

The  end  of  friendship  is  a  commerce  the  most  strict 
and  homely  that  can  be  joined  ;  more  strict  than  any  of 
which  we  have  experience.  It  is  for  aid  and  comfort 
through  all  the  relations  and  passages  of  life  and  death. 
It  is  fit  for  serene  days,  and  graceful  gifts,  and  country 
rambles,  but  also  for  rough  roads  and  hard  fare,  ship 
wreck,  poverty  and  persecution. 

RALPH  WALDO  EMERSON  (1803-1882), 
'  Friendship.' 


WHAT  though,  like  commoners  of  air, 
We  wander  out,  we  know  not  where, 

But  either  house  or  hal'. 
Yet  nature's  charms,  the  hills  and  woods, 
The  sweeping  vales,  and  foaming  floods, 

Are  free  alike  to  all. 
In  days  when  daisies  deck  the  ground, 
And  blackbirds  whistle  clear, 
With  honest  joy  our  hearts  will  bound, 
To  see  the  coming  year :  . 
On  braes  when  we  please,  then, 
We'll  sit  and  sowth  a  tune : 
Syne  rhyme  till't,  we'll  time  tilPt 
And  sing't  when  we  hae  done. 


(77) 


It's  no  in  titles  nor  in  rank ; 

It's  no  in  wealth  like  Lon'on  bank, 

To  purchase  peace  and  rest ; 
It's  no  in  making  muckle  mair ; 
It's  no  in  books,  it's  no  in  lear, 

To  make  us  truly  blest : 
If  happiness  hae  not  her  seat 
And  centre  in  the  breast, 
We  may  be  wise,  or  rich,  or  great, 
But  never  can  be  blest : 
Nae  treasures,  nor  pleasures, 
Could  make  us  happy  lang ; 
The  heart  ay's  the  part  ay 
That  makes  us  right  or  wrang. 


Think  ye,  that  sic  as  you  and  I, 

Wha  drudge  and  drive  thro*  wet  an'  dry, 

Wi'  never  ceasing  toil ; 
Think  ye,  are  we  less  blest  than  they, 
Wha  scarcely  tent  us  in  their  way, 

As  hardly  worth  their  while  ? 
Alas  !  how  aft  in  haughty  mood, 
God's  creatures  they  oppress ! 
Or  else,  neglecting  a'  that's  guid, 
They  riot  in  excess  ! 
Baith  careless,  and  fearless, 
Of  either  heav'n  or  hell ! 
Esteeming,  and  deeming 
It  a'  an  idle  tale  ! 


(78) 


Then  let  us  cheerfu'  acquiesce  ; 
Nor  make  our  scanty  pleasures  less, 

By  pining  at  our  state  ; 
And,  even  should  misfortunes  come,% 
I,  here  wha  sit,  hae  met  wi'  some, 

An's  thankfu'  for  them  yet. 
They  gi'e  the  wit  o'  age  to  youth  ; 
They  let  us  ken  oursel'  ; 
They  mak  us  see  the  naked  truth, 
The  real  guid  and  ill. 
Tho'  losses,  and  crosses, 
Be  lessons  right  severe, 
There's  wit  there,  ye'll  get  there, 
Ye'll  find  nae  other  where. 


ROBERT  BURNS  (1759-1796), 
'  To  Davie.' 


OH  !  if  we  draw  a  circle  premature, 
Heedless  of  far  gain, 
Greedy  for  quick  returns  of  profit,  sure 

Bad  is  our  bargain  ! 
Was  it  not  great  ?     Did  not  he  throw  on  God, 

(He  loves  the  burthen) — 
God's  task  to  make  the  heavenly  period 

Perfect  the  earthen  ? 
Did  not  he  magnify  the  mind,  show  clear 

Just  what  it  all  meant  ? 
He  would  not  discount  life,  as  fools  do  here, 

Paid  by  instalment. 
He  ventured  neck  or  nothing — heaven's  success 

Found,  or  earth's  failure  : 
"  Wilt  thou  trust  death  or  not  ?  "  He  answered  "  Yes 

Hence  with  life's  pale  lure  !  " 
That  low  man  seeks  a  little  thing  to  do, 

Sees  it  and  does  it : 


(79) 

This  high  man,  with  a  great  thing  to  pursue, 

Dies  ere  he  knows  it. 
That  low  man  goes  on  adding  one  to  one, 

His  hundred's  soon  hit : 
This  high  man,  aiming  at  a  million, 

Misses  an  unit. 
That,  has  the  world  here — should  he  need  the  next, 

Let  the  world  mind  him  ! 
This,  throws  himself  on  God,  and  unperplexed 

Seeking  shall  find  him. 

ROBERT  BROWNING  (1812-1889), 

1  A  Grammarian's  Fun  eral.' 


Thanks 

THANKS  are  due  to  many  Authors  and  Publishers  who  have 
generously  granted  permission  to  print  in  this  book,  the  quotations 
required  from  copyright,  and  writings  of  the  present  day.  In 
addition  to  acknowledging  much  kind  help  from  many  other 
sources,  thanks  are  specially  due  : — 

To  Sir  James  Barrie,  for  quotations  from  '  Courage  '  (and  to  Messrs. 
Hodder  and  Stoughton)  ; 

To  Messrs.  Bell  and  Sons,  for  translations  from  '  Epictetus  '  (from 
the  Bohn  Library)  ; 

To  Mr.  Laurence  Binyon,  for  his  poem  ; 

To  Miss  A.  M.  Buckton,  for  quotations  from  '  Words  out  of  the 
Silence '  (and  to  Mr.  John  Watkins)  ; 

To  Father  Cuthbert,  O.S.F.C.,  for  a  quotation  from  '  The  Lady 
Poverty '  (and  to  Messrs.  Burns,  Gates  and  Washbourne)  ; 

To  Messrs.  Hodder  and  Stoughton,  for  a  short  extract  from  '  The 
Story  of  Christ,'  by  Giovanni  Papini ; 

To  the  Very  Rev.  W.  R.  Inge,  D.D.,  for  a  quotation  from  '  Out 
spoken  Essays '  (and  to  Messrs.  Longmans,  Green  and  Co.) ; 

To  Dr.  L.  P.  Jacks,  for  an  extract  from  The  Hibbert  Journal ; 
To  Dr.  T.  N.  Kelynack,  for  an  extract  from  '  The  Child  ' ; 

To  Messrs.  Longmans,  Green  and  Co.,  for  quotations  from  '  Varieties 
of  Religious  Experience,'  by  the  late  Professor  William  James  ; 

To  Messrs.  Macmillan  and  Co.,  for  quotations  from  '  The  Inward 
Light,'  by  Fielding  Hall ;  translation  from  Plato's  '  Republic  ' 
(Davies  and  Vaughan)  ;  and  quotations  from  '  Nationalism,' 
and  '  Gitanjali,'  by  Dr.  Rabindranath  Tagore. 

To  Mr.  J.  F.  McKechnie  (Silacara,  Bhikkhu),  for  translations  from 
the  Dhammapada  (and  to  the  Buddhist  Society)  ; 

To  Dr.  Isabella  Mears,  for  translations  from  the  '  Tao  Teh  King ' 
of  Lao  Tzu  (and  to  the  Theosophical  Publishing  House)  ; 

To  Sir  John  Murray  for  quotations  from  Matthew  Arnold's  '  Note 
book,'  and  from  Poems  by  Robert  Browning ; 

To  M.  Sabatier  for  a  quotation  from  '  The  Life  of  St.  Francis  '  (and 
to  Charles  Scribner's  Sons,  New  York)  ; 

To  the  Rev.  H.  R.  L.  Sheppard  for  quotations  from  his  sermons  ; 

To  Miss  Evelyn  Underbill  for  extracts  from  '  Practical  Mysticism ' 
and  '  Introduction  to  Mysticism  '  (and  to  Messrs.  Methuen, 
and  to  Messrs.  J.  M.  Dent  and  Sons)  ; 

And  to  Miss  A.  M.  Buckton,  Mr.  J.  Edward  Francis  and  Mrs.  Marson 
for  some  quotations  and  helpful  suggestions. 


Ind 


ex 


Amos 

Arnold,  Matthew          36, 
Augustine,  Saint 
Baha'u'llah 
Barrie,  Sir  James     . . 
Binyon,  Laurence    . . 
Browne,  Sir  Thomas 
Browning,  Robert    . . 
Buckton,  A.  M. 
Bunyan,  John  29, 

Burns,  Robert 
Carey,  Henry 
Carlyle,  Thomas 
Coolidge,  President  . . 
Cowley,  Abraham    . . 
Cuthbert,  Father     . . 
Dante,  Alighieri 
Dekker,  Thomas 
Dhammapada  23,  31,  35, 
Edmund,  Saint 
Emerson,  Ralph  Waldo 

12,  64,  65, 

Epictetus       . .       ii,  32, 
Goldsmith,  Oliver    . . 
Hall,  H.  Fielding    . . 
Hanmer,  Lord 
Hawkins,  Rev.  E.  J. 
Herbert,  George     37,  38, 
Inge,  The  Very  Rev.  W. 
James,  William  8, 


PAGE  PAGE 

. .     45  Lao  Tzu        . .       13,  16,  35,  67 

40,  74  Luke,  Saint  ..              33,  58,  70 

..     75     Mark,  Saint 33 

..     34  Milton,  John..              25,  30,  38 

. .     39  Moltke,  Von             . .         . .     74 

. .     66  Papini,  Giovanni      . .         . .     23 

..      9     Plato 19,  53,  67 

. .     78  Prayer           . .         . .         . .     61 

34,  74     Proverbs        75 

48,  71  Rolle,  Richard  of  Hampole       69, 

•  73,  76  70 
. .     56  Romans         . .         . .         . .     19 

12,  48  Ruskin,  John           . .         17,  38 

. .     14  Sabatier,  Paul          . .         . .     58 

. .     72  Shakespeare,  William    29,  30,  53 

. .     25  Shelley,  Percy  Bysshe        . .     22 

. .     60  Sheppard,  Rev.  H.  R.  L.          20 

. .     70  South,  Robert          . .         . .     56 

59,  68  Spenser,  Edmund    . .         31,  54 

62,  70  Stobart,  Mrs.  M.  A.           . .     20 

Tagore,  Rabindranath  14,  32,  62 

72,  76  Taylor,  Jeremy        . .         . .     75 

36,  75  Thomson,  James      . .         . .     49 

42,  69  Thoreau,  Henry  David 

•  •     45  15.  40,  57.  67 
. .     46  Timothy         . .         . .                 21 
. .     22  Underbill,  Evelyn        23,  63,  64 
39,  47  Walton,  Izaak          . .         . .      9 

R.     17  Whitman,  Walt        ..         ..       6 

10,  65  Wordsworth,  William           7,  46 


M7082 


London 


The  Athenseura  Press,  11  &  13  Bream's  BuiMin;**, 
B.C.4. 


6071  • 

Po 
In  praise  of  poverty.