The Portland daily press., 1869-02-16

Miscellany.
? HENRY WARD. BEECHER

IT, is NOT wise to make sport OF men. If it
does moi hurt them, it surely will iniure us.
@ro make game" of anything is very ex-
pressive phrase. To hunt a man. to watch
Tor bis habits, to caricature his expressions.
to ridicule his weaknesses, and, in short. to-
make game OF him, is apt to destroy that JUS
tee and tair dealing which are necessary to
good fellowship. And yet, what shall we do ?
Lhere are men who oblige us either to criti-
else or quarrel, or in some mild way to cover
up their weaknesses and faults with gentle
ridleule. A FAULT which excites in us a good
natured mirtb hardly seems any more fault.
Butter criticism and scorLiul raiery are TO he
reserved Tor serious offences OF high grade
oil guilt. But those inequalities and weak
nesses in our friends which. like little stones
in good road, jolt and jar our progress with
them, are generally best treated with good
natured and even complimentary persifage.
vanity, especially, Is lawful prey. 1t would
seem, too, as ii good-natured banter was
natural penalty appointed for sin OF tnal
kind. Vanity is an indiscreet lust for praise.
1T is well paid off and punished by good-na-
tired ridicule.
Mr., Posoe,thorpe is good friend of mine.
as YOU will see bV The way that shall pick
him to pieces. He has kind heart. and
when his own interests are not concerned he
is generous. Beln9 some few years older
Luan dui, "nH having d reputation, and a
deserved one tor good scholarship. he nat
ronizes me. never 90 to his stud thai he
does not treat me to portions of his last SER
m ln-as though had not enough of that
food at home. He recounts all the bappy
turns OF conversation which he has lately
maze. lie never leaves out those nice little
iepartees, and those keen thrusts in which he
seems to himself always victor. i look up
on lin with envy. How happy he is in him
sell How fortunate must that dispos ton
be that glows and corruscates with such
summer OF self graduation / wonder if he
ever thinks meanly of himself, or of his
achievements? Does he ever turn away In
disgust from all his performances, as poor and
worthless? Does he ever marvel what he
was born for, and what use there is in contin-
uing to live? Does he respect men who de-
CRY him, and enter ain contempt for those
Who praise him? Does he feel, about once a
week, that he has mistaken his calIing-tbat
ne never has done anything and never shall
do anything?
Never! such experiences are reserved for
men not so nicely endowed with self-compla-
eency. Mr.. Poggel' hoppe lives in a blaze of
Satisfaction. lie is his own burnine-bush.
and his own little god in it. He glows and
sparkles, he rejeices and laughs, he bubbles
and runs over with his own excellences.-
Lucky man that he is
DuG SO really good OF heart is he, that all
this wealth OF seltappreciation makes him
kind to Others. And one really cannot find
it in his heart to get angry at this innocent
and chlldlike gladness which he has in his
oAn doings and endowments.
In lower sphere | have seen something
analogous to this. refer to the much mis-
understood hen. Nothing that | see all sum-
mer long seems to me so perfectly contented
with Itself as hen. Hens put on no airs.
Ter they need none. They seem immensely
busy all day about trides There is a bust
ing industry III scratching, there is such
look OF sharp discernment when a speck
turns up, and they are SO content with their
own grooming and singing, that one cannot
watch them without smile.
But oil all their doings, nothing fills them
with such wonder as the laying of an egg
The hen steals into her nest with the mos.
perfect silence. Patiently she awaits the
event. Olce sure OF the TACT, she feels all
the JOY OF dIscoVerer. the enthusiasm of an
inventor, and the vanity of an author! She
has lai world! 1t is more en- era than an
egg! She listens. Shall nothing celebrate
tue event? 1t shall not die unknown. OFF
She flies with exuberance of noise. with an
intensity OF cscke, and excitement of delight
that Sc ms to say. "a new tbing!' "a won
der'ul thing" AN admirable thing" "And
did itw
Sne pumps down from the hay-mow. She
goes proclaiming aloud her marvellous luck.
till all the neehborhood echoes her cackle,'
The hens in the barn-yard, expecting the
same favor in their turn, all join and cackle.
The cock, with imperious satisfaction, moves
about cackline-qW facit per alum .tacit per
&C." r.
Tomorrow it will be just SO again The
egg OF to-day. hides the egg of yesterday
Tue wonder is never stale. The 10y breaks
out airesh On each occasion, as if there had
never been another such experience!
These are the Poggelthorpes of the barn.
Or is it-that Poeselthorpe is the hen of the
pulpit? Every day he lays an egg, and Sun
days he laws two!