The Thousandth Man

One man in a thousand, Solomon says,
Will stick more close than a brother.
And it’s worth while seeking him half your days
If you find him before the other.
Nine hundred and ninety-nine depend
On what the world sees in you,
But the Thousandth man will stand your friend
With the whole round world agin you.

‘Tis neither promise nor prayer nor show
Will settle the finding for ‘ee.
Nine hundred and ninety-nine of ‘em go
By your looks, or your acts, or your glory,
But if he finds you and you find him,
The rest of the world don’t matter;
For the Thousandth Man will sink or swim
With you in any water.

You can use his purse with no more talk
Than he uses yours for his spending,
And laugh and meet in your daily walk
As though there had been no lendings.
Nine hundred and ninety-nine of ‘em call
For silver and gold in their dealings;
But the Thousandth Man he’s worth ‘em all,
Because you can show him your feelings.

His wrong’s your wrong, and his right’s your right,
In season or out of season.
Stand up and back it in all men’s sight --
With that for your only reason!
Nine hundred and ninety-nine can’t bide
The shame or mocking or laughter,
But the Thousandth Man will stand by your side
To the gallows-foot---and after!

by Rudyard Kipling

The Fellowship of Books

I care not who the man may be,
Nor how his tasks may fret him,
Nor where he fares, nor how his cares
And troubles may beset him,
If books have won the love of him,
Whatever fortune hands him,
He'll always own, when he's alone,
A friend who understands him.

Though other friends may come and go,
And some may stoop to treason,
His books remain, through loss or gain,
And season after season
The faithful friends for every mood,
His joy and sorrow sharing,
For old time's sake, they'll lighter make
The burdens he is bearing.

Oh, he has counsel at his side,
And wisdom for his duty,
And laughter gay for hours of play,
And tenderness and beauty,
And fellowship divinely rare,
True friends who never doubt him,
Unchanging love, and God above,
Who keeps good books about him.

by Edgar Guest


This poem is along the same thoughts of the poem My Books and I. The summer months have not left me with as much time for the counsel or laughter of my books friends. It would be too difficult to pick a best friend from amongst books or authors. The past couple of winters have found me several good friends in T. S. Arthur’s books. Numerous ones can be read online at Project Gutenberg and Internet Archive.


I do not agree with everything T. S. Arthur writes and would not recommend all his books or stories. Even in some of his books which I like, there may be questionable portions in some of them. Overall though, there is a wealth of treasure in his books if the principles were applied. T. S. Arthur has a deep and rare insight into the human heart and nature. To write as he did, he must have seen and experience much in life. In his stories of love, treachery, bitterness, and forgiveness, he endeavors to teach from others mistakes between parents and children, husbands and wives, and friends and neighbors that we not suffer the same misery others have found in error.


It has been so long since I’ve visited these friends. I had some extra time of peace and quite this afternoon (so welcomed!), so while gathering the links for this post, I couldn’t resist a short visit to another friend - The Wedding Guest. I had time for only one story in it so I can’t really say if it is a good book, but there was some excellent advice to young ladies (or old ones, if it is not too late) in the one story. A few of his books that I have enjoyed are:

Words of Cheer for the Tempted, the Toiling, and the Sorrowing
PREFACE. AS we pass on our way through the world, we find our paths now smooth and flowery, and now rugged and difficult to travel. The sky, bathed in golden sunshine to-day, is black with storms to-morrow! This is the history of every one. And it is also the life-experience of all, that when the way is rough and the sky dark, the poor heart sinks and trembles, and the eye of faith cannot see the bright sun smiling in the heavens beyond the veil of clouds. But, for all this fear and doubt, the rugged path winds steadily upwards, and the broad sky is glittering in light. Let the toiling, the tempted, and the sorrowing ever keep this in mind. Let them have faith in Him who feedeth the young lions, and clothes the fields with verdure--who bindeth up the broken heart, and giveth joy to the mourners. There are Words of Cheer in the air! Listen! and their melody will bring peace to the spirit, and their truths strength to the heart.


All's for the Best
(no preface)


Orange Blossoms Fresh and Faded
PREFACE: Ah, if they would never fade these sweet and fragrant blossoms ! If the little foxes would never spoil the vines ! They do not always fade, nor are the tender grapes always spoiled. There are many brows on which the orange blossoms are as fresh to-day as when placed there by loving hands in years long past. They will always be fresh and fragrant. Time has no power over them. But they fade alas ! how quickly ! on so many brows. To keep them fresh to bring back their sweetness when faded is the loving mission of our book. It is a book of life- pictures. It takes you into other homes, makes you familiar with other experiences than your own. It shows you where others have erred, what pain and loss have followed, and how love, self-denial and reason have turned sorrow into joy and threatened disaster into permanent safety.


Link-up with A Wise Woman Build Her Home.

How many friends have you?

The old man turned to me and asked
"How many friends have you?"
Why 10 or 20 friends have I,
And named off just a few...

He rose quite slow with effort
And sadly shook his head
"A lucky child you are
With so many friends," he said

But think of what you're saying
There is much you may not know
A friend is just not someone
To whom you say “Hello”

A friends a tender shoulder
On which to softly cry
A well to pour your troubles down
And raise your spirits high

A friend is a hand to pull you up
From darkness and despair...
When all your other “so called” friends
Have helped to put you there

A true friend is an ally
Who can't be moved or bought
A voice to keep your name alive
When others have not thought

But most of all a friends a heart
A strong and sturdy wall
For from the hearts of friends
There comes the greatest love of all!!

So think of what I've spoken
For every word is true
And answer once again my child
How many friends have you??

And then he stood and faced me
Awaiting my reply
Softly I answered
"If lucky.......one have I"

~Author Unknown

LIFE'S TESTS

If never a sorrow came to us, and never a care
we knew;
If every hope were realized, and every dream
came true;
If only joy were found on earth, and no one
ever sighed,
And never a friend proved false to us, and never
a loved one died,
And never a burden bore us down, soul-sick and
weary, too,
We'd yearn for tests to prove our worth and
tasks for us to do.

Edgar A Guest

My Books and I

My books and I are good old pals:
My laughing books are gay,
Just suited for my merry moods
When I am wont to play.
Bill Nye comes down to joke with me
And, Oh, the joy he spreads.
Just like two fools we sit and laugh
And shake our merry heads.

When I am in a thoughtful mood,
With Stevenson I sit,
Who seems to know I've had enough
Of Bill Nye and his wit.
And so, more thoughtful than I am,
He talks of lofty things,
And thus an evening hour we spend
Sedate and grave as kings.

And should my soul be torn with grief
Upon my shelf I find
A little volume, worn and thumbled,
For comfort just designed.
I take my little Bible down
And read its pages o'er,
And when I part from it I find
I'm stronger than before.

- Edgar A Guest
 
Never having read after Billy Nye, I cannot comment on his books and though I have read poems by a Stevenson, it may not be the Stevenson in this poem. Nonetheless, my books and I are good ol’ pals.


My brother used to tease me about my book friends. After reading a book, I often told him all the humorous parts or talked over some of the sober portions. If there was a series of books, he became familiar with the names of the characters. One evening he came bounding up the stairs calling, “What are you doin-” He stopped mid-word when he saw me reading and said, “Oh, you are visiting Millie again. How is Charles doing today?” Well, tease as he will, books and animals can be the best of friends.

Recently, I made some new acquaintances, in The Hidden Hand by E. D. E. N. Southworth. The Hidden Hand is the most captivating book I have read in a long time. So captivating that in front of a crackling fire, I scarcely noticed, much less cared about, the dreary, un-welcoming, cold winter day outside. (That is saying a lot for me!) At times, Capitola had me laughing, at other times, one of the others had me soberly pondering.

One funny part was when Capitola was summoned to court to testify against the villains and she said, “Oh, won’t I tell all I know. Yes, and more too!” As funny as it was for Capitola to say this, it is not so humorous that too many people have the nefarious habit of telling more than they know.

Traverse, when he would doctor the poor without getting paid much, would say that he was lending the Lord because he, “liked the security.” I really liked that phrase. So often in youth, money is saved in banks, funds, trusts, and insurances, only to find in mid-life that money sunk into life (or death) polices are dissipating, insurances are not paying bills, and in other ways the money thought to be secured is not secure. But when we lend to the Lord, it is always safe; it is a trust which will never collapse, a security that is forever secure in our old age. Yes, I had rather give to the Lord because I “like the security.”

There were parts of drama as when Capitola, to save her young friend from a forced marriage, dressed in disguise and took her place. I was afraid she was going to go through with the vows which would have been in-pardonable. Instead, when asked, “Wilt thou have this man to be thy wedded husband,” etc., etc., She yanked off the mourning veil reviling her identity and exclaimed, “No! not if he were the last man and I the last woman on the face of the earth . . .”

In the end when Herbert marries Capitola, the author writes, “For Herbert understood well that tranquility could only come from a soft answer to Cap’s sharp-edged tongue. He was not only wise, but a man who loved his wife for who she was and not who he wanted her to be.” This crowned him the wisest character in the whole book. (Unless his wisdom could be questioned in marrying Capitola!)

The book is not without its drawbacks. Old Hurricane has some colorful language, not to be emulated (he reminded me of the young man in the story of Abigail who said Nabal was such “a son of Belial”), and Capitola certainly has some un-desirable character traits. However, there are wonderful little nuggets in the book for the careful reader.

The entire working of the book might be claimed as too much coincident in the average fiction. In this book, the author tries to show it is all arranged by the Hidden Hand - God’s providence. After nearly two decades filled with the deepest sadness and loneliness one of the characters tells Traverse, “I was sinking into an apathy when one day I opened the little Bible that lay upon the table. . .I fixed upon the last three chapters in the gospel of John. That narrative of meek patience and divine sacrificial love! It did for me what no power under that of God could have done. It saved me! It saved me from madness! It saved me from despair!. . .From that hour, this book has been my constant companion and comfort. I have learned from its pages how little it matters how or where this fleeting, mortal life is passed, so that it answers its purpose of preparing the soul for another. I have learned patience with sinners, forgiveness of enemies, and confidence in God. In a word, I have learned the way of salvation, and in that have learned everything. . .”

My head acknowledges the truth that how earthly life is passed means little, whether it be full of trials or otherwise, yet the heart is slow in embracing this at times. Christianity in theory is easier than Christianity in practice.

The book closes with James 5:11, “Behold, we count them happy which endure. You have heard of the patience of Job, and have seen the end of the Lord; that the Lord is very pitiful, and of tender mercy.”

The last page has only these words, “To those who have suffered in this life and have borne your pain in silence - there is yet hope.” In the end, it is still fiction; hope, as we think it, may never be realized on this earth, even after eighteen or more years of patient waiting. Yet through it all, God’s un-seen hand directs the course of life. For the Christian, heaven is our home; this world, just a place we are passing through.

FRIENDSHIP QUOTES

*

“Be slow to fall into friendship, but when thou art in, continue firm and constant.”
*

“True friends are like diamonds, precious and rare; false friends are like pebbles, found everywhere.”
*

“True friendship isn’t about being there when it’s convenient; it’s about being there when it’s not.”
*

“One who looks for a friend without faults will have none.”
*

“The best rule of friendship is to keep your heart a little softer than your head.”
*

“He’s my friend that speaks well of me behind my back.” - Thomas Fuller
*

“A false friend and a shadow attend only while the sun shines.” - Benjamin Franklin
*

“Don’t flatter yourself that friendship authorizes you to say disagreeable things to your intimates. The nearer you come into relation with a person, the more necessary do tact and courtesy become.” - Oliver Wendell Holmes

*

Books are the quietest and most constant of friends; they are the most accessible and wisest of counselors, and the most patient of teachers. - Charles W. Eliot
*

“Animals are such agreeable friends - they ask no questions, they pass no criticisms” - George Eliot

Loyalty

He may be six kinds of a liar,
He may be ten kinds of a fool,
He may be a wicked high flyer
Beyond any reason or rule;
There may be a shadow above him
Of ruin and woes to impend,
And I may not respect, but I love him,
Because-well, because he’s my friend.

I know he has faults by the billion,
But his faults are a portion of him;
I know that his record’s vermilion,
And he’s far from the sweet Seraphim;
But he’s always been square with yours truly,
Ready to give or to lend,
And if he is wild and unruly,
I like him-because he’s my friend.

I criticize him but I do it
In just a frank, comradely key,
And back-biting gossips will rue it
If ever they knock him to me!
I never make diagrams of him,
No maps of his soul have I penned;
I don’t analyze-I just love him,
Because -well, because he’s my friend.

- Berton Braley


“Duty,” said Robert E. Lee, “is the sublimest word in the English language.” Second to it, I think, may be “Loyalty.” I like the loyalty toward a friend which is symbolized in this poem. However, in the strictest literal reading of the words, it can be taken too far. Loyalty to my supreme Friend, Jesus Christ my Lord and Saviour, sometimes demands a separation from friends, grievous as it is, if they go the way of the wicked and un-godly. Yet, so long as it is not disloyalty to Christ to stick loyally by a friend, whatever else he may be - well, he’s my friend.

THE OBLIGATION OF FRIENDSHIP

You ought to be fine for the sake of the folks
Who think you are fine.
If others have faith in you doubly you're bound
To stick to the line.
It's not only on you that dishonor descends:
You can't hurt yourself without hurting your friends.

You ought to be true for the sake of the folks
Who believe you are true.
You never should stoop to a deed that your friends
Think you wouldn't do.
If you're false to yourself, be the blemish but small,
You have injured your friends; you've been false to them all.

For friendship, my boy, is a bond between men
That is founded on truth:
It believes in the best of the ones that it loves,
Whether old man or youth;
And the stern rule it lays down for me and for you
Is to be what our friends think we are, through and through.