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Updated: June 8, 2025
All were busy and happy, and were beginning to find that in spite of conflicts and self-denials "wisdom's ways are pleasantness and all her paths are peace." The preparations for the Thanksgiving festival progressed rapidly, but before the time came to put the plans in execution a very terrible thing happened in Squantown.
In the moral view, it suggests how much more simple and easy a course of rectitude is than one of sin. The one goes straight and unswerving to its end; the other is crooked, devious, intricate, and wanders from the true goal. A crooked road is a long road, and an up-and-down road is a tiring road. Wisdom's way is straight, level, and steadily approaches its aim.
Sixty years had Abdel-Hassan, since the stranger's friendly hand Saved him from the burning Desert, lived and prospered in the land; And his life of peaceful labor, in its pure and simple ways, For his loss fourfold returned him, and a mighty length of days. Sixty years of faith and patience gave him wisdom's mural crown; Sons and daughters brought him honor with his riches and renown.
Hannah More, in a poem called 'Sensibility, published in 1778, gives this quaint and stilted picture of her: 'Delany shines, in worth serenely bright, Wisdom's strong ray, and virtue's milder light. And she who blessed the friend and graced the page of Swift, still lends her lustre to our age. Long, long protract thy light, O star benign, Whose setting beams with added brightness shine!
It concludes with these lines: "Reader, attend whether thy soul Soars fancy's flights beyond the pole, Or darkling grubs this earthly hole In low pursuit; Know prudent, cautious self-control, Is Wisdom's root." Truthfulness is quite as much a habit and quite as amendable to cultivation as falsehood.
The alternative to this suicidal folly is in listening to Wisdom's call.
Each dim sweet Orphic rhyme, Each mythic tale sublime Of strength to save, of sweetness to subdue, Each morning dream the few, Wisdom's first lovers told, if read in Thee comes true. "Thou, O Friend From heaven, that madest this our heart Thine own, Dost pierce the broken language of its moan Thou dost not scorn our needs, but satisfy!
"I don't doubt that; but nobody has a right to be so great a fool as all that." "It was not her folly, but her innocence, that was imposed on. You a philosopher, and not know that wisdom itself is sometimes imposed on, and deceived by cunning folly! Have you forgotten your Milton? "'At Wisdom's gate, Suspicion sleeps, And deems no ill where no ill seems.
O fools! o'er Wisdom's idle page To waste the hours of golden youth! In Science wildly do we seek What only withering years should bring The languid pulse the feverish cheek The spirits drooping on their wing! To think is but to learn to groan To scorn what all beside adore To feel amid the world alone, An alien on a desert shore; To lose the only ties which seem To idler gaze in mercy given!
Then, when he had grown better and wiser than any one on earth, his tongue would become loosened, and he would go forth to preach the Gospel, and Juliet would listen to him for his wisdom's sake. Oh, if she would only love him best best of all! This evening the road through the wood did not frighten him, though the sun was down.
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