Friends and Neighbors | Page 2

PROGRESS MY WASHERWOMAN
FORGIVE AND FORGET OWE NO MAN ANYTHING
RETURNING GOOD FOR EVIL PUTTING YOUR HAND IN YOUR
NEIGHBOUR'S POCKET KIND WORDS NEIGHBOURS'
QUARRELS GOOD WE MIGHT DO THE TOWN LOT THE
SUNBEAM AND THE RAINDROP A PLEA FOR SOFT WORDS
MR. QUERY'S INVESTIGATIONS ROOM IN THE WORLD
WORDS THE THANKLESS OFFICE. LOVE "EVERY LITTLE
HELPS" LITTLE THINGS CARELESS WORDS HOW TO BE
HAPPY CHARITY--ITS OBJECTS THE VISION OF BOATS
REGULATION OF THE TEMPER MANLY GENTLENESS SILENT
INFLUENCE ANTIDOTE FOR MELANCHOLY THE SORROWS
OF A WEALTHY CITIZEN "WE'VE ALL OUR ANGEL SIDE"
BLIND JAMES DEPENDENCE TWO RIDES WITH THE DOCTOR
KEEP IN STEP JOHNNY COLE THE THIEF AND HIS
BENEFACTOR JOHN AND MARGARET GREYLSTON THE
WORLD WOULD BE THE BETTER FOR IT TWO SIDES TO A
STORY LITTLE KINDNESSES LEAVING OFF CONTENTION
BEFORE IT BE MEDDLED WITH "ALL THE DAY IDLE" THE
BUSHEL OF CORN THE ACCOUNT CONTENTMENT BETTER
THAN WEALTH RAINBOWS EVERYWHERE

FRIENDS AND NEIGHBOURS.
GOOD IN ALL.

THERE IS GOOD IN ALL. Yes! we all believe it: not a man in the
depth of his vanity but will yield assent. But do you not all, in practice,
daily, hourly deny it? A beggar passes you in the street: dirty, ragged,
importunate. "Ah! he has a bad look," and your pocket is safe. He
starves--and he steals. "I thought he was bad." You educate him in the
State Prison. He does not improve even in this excellent school. "He
is," says the gaoler, "thoroughly bad." He continues his course of crime.
All that is bad in him having by this time been made apparent to
himself, his friends, and the world, he has only to confirm the decision,
and at length we hear when he has reached his last step. "Ah! no

wonder--there was never any Good in him. Hang him!"
Now much, if not all this, may be checked by a word.
If you believe in Good, _always appeal to it._ Be sure whatever there is
of Good--is of God. There is never an utter want of resemblance to the
common Father. "God made man in His own image." "What! yon
reeling, blaspheming creature; yon heartless cynic; yon crafty trader;
yon false statesman?" Yes! All. In every nature there is a germ of
eternal happiness, of undying Good. In the drunkard's heart there is a
memory of something better--slight, dim: but flickering still; why
should you not by the warmth of your charity, give growth to the Good
that is in him? The cynic, the miser, is not all self. There is a note in
that sullen instrument to make all harmony yet; but it wants a patient
and gentle master to touch the strings.
You point to the words "There is none good." The truths do not oppose
each other. "There is none good--_save one._" And He breathes in all.
In our earthliness, our fleshly will, our moral grasp, we are helpless,
mean, vile. But there is a lamp ever burning in the heart: a guide to the
source of Light, or an instrument of torture. We can make it either. If it
burn in an atmosphere of purity, it will warm, guide, cheer us. If in the
midst of selfishness, or under the pressure of pride, its flame will be
unsteady, and we shall soon have good reason to trim our light, and
find new oil for it.
There is Good in All--the impress of the Deity. He who believes not in
the image of God in man, is an infidel to himself and his race. There is
no difficulty about discovering it. You have only to appeal to it. Seek in
every one the best features: mark, encourage, educate _them._ There is
no man to whom some circumstance will not be an argument.
And how glorious in practice, this faith! How easy, henceforth, all the
labours of our law-makers, and how delightful, how practical the
theories of our philanthropists! To educate the _Good_--the good in
_All_: to raise every man in his own opinion, and yet to stifle all
arrogance, by showing that all possess this Good. In themselves, but
not of themselves. Had we but faith in this truth, how soon should we
all be digging through the darkness, for this Gold of Love--this
universal Good. A Howard, and a Fry, cleansed and humanized our
prisons, to find this Good; and in the chambers of all our hearts it is to
be found, by labouring eyes and loving hands.

Why all our harsh enactments? Is it from experience of the strength of
vice in ourselves that we cage, chain, torture, and hang men? Are none
of us indebted to friendly hands, careful advisers; to the generous,
trusting guidance, solace, of some gentler being, who has loved us,
despite the evil that is in