Page:Cyclopedia of illustrations for public speakers, containing facts, incidents, stories, experiences, anecdotes, selections, etc., for illustrative purposes, with cross-references; (IA cyclopediaofillu00scotrich).pdf/576

 So the rivers among the valleys, the murmur of wind-swept hill, The seas and the bird-thrilled woodlands utter their voices still; Songs of stars and of waters, echoes of vale and shore— The voice of primeval nature praising Him evermore.

And the instruments men have fashioned since time and the world were young, With gifted fingers giving the metal and wood a tongue, With the human voice translating the soul's wild joy and pain, Have swelled the undying paean, have raised the immortal strain!

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Perhaps in nothing connected with religious practise are opportunities more neglected than with regard to the praise of God. Multitudes who receive the bounties of Providence know nothing of the emotion of gratitude, and many awaken too late to a sense of their own ingratitude.

Billy Bray, the Cornish preacher, was a constant visitor among the sick and dying. On one occasion he was sitting by the bedside of a Christian brother who had always been very reticent and afraid to confess joyously his faith in Christ. Now, however, he was filled with gladness. Turning to Billy, whose beaming face and sunny words had done much to produce this joy, he said, "Oh, Mr. Bray, I am so happy that if I had the power I'd shout 'Glory.'" "Ah, mon," said Billy, "what a pity it was thee didn't shout 'Glory' when thee hadst the power." (Text.)

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See.

PRAISE DEPENDENT ON SUCCESS

Toward the close of his second administration, Grant thus reviewed, in a private conversation with Henry Clay Trumbull, the criticisms of his public career:

I don't wonder that people differ with me, and that they think I am not doing the best that could be done. I can understand how they may blame me for a lack of knowledge or judgment. But what hurts me is to have them talk as if I didn't love my country and wasn't doing the best I knew how. It was just that way in war-time. I didn't do as well as might have been done. A great many times I didn't do as well as I was trying to do. Often I didn't do as well as I expected to do. But I had my plans and was trying to carry them out. They called me "fool" and "butcher." They said I didn't know anything and hadn't any plans. But I kept on and kept on, and by and by Richmond was taken, and I was at Appomattox Court House, and then they couldn't find words enough to praise me. I suppose it will be so now. In spite of mistakes and failures I shall keep at it. By and by we'll have specie payments resumed, reconstruction will be complete, good feeling will be restored between North and South; we shall be at Appomattox again, and then I suppose they'll praise me.

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Praise Helpful—See.

Praise, Judicious—See.

PRAISE, SEEKING

A delicate woman, without children, and married to a superior but occupied and preoccupied man, suffered intensely when her husband neither perceived nor commented upon a new costume, or upon some ornament she had added to the drawing-room. Never a word of praise escaped his lips. One day she told him the sorrow this caused her. "But what do you want?" he replied, distrest. "I don't know how to observe such things. What must I do?"

The wife reflected a moment, and then the two arranged that when there was anything unusual the wife was to make him a certain sign. His attention called, he would then understand, look, and admire. "And now I am satisfied," she said, a little ashamed of her childishness. "What he says will not be spontaneous, I know, and yet I shall be pleased to hear it; it will brighten my life."

This absurd, and yet touching incident reveals a state of mind that certain natures can not understand, but which is, nevertheless, more common than we think.—, "Makers of Sorrow and Makers of Joy."

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