The Chameleon and the Porcupine.
THE chameleon and the porcupine were comparing notes. The chameleon tried to agree with everybody; he promptly reflected the ideas and opinions of all he met, and yet he was not popular. The porcupine bristled all over when anybody came near him. He was full of self-assertion. He always presented sharp points, and yet nobody seemed to appreciate or admire him. "What is the matter with the world," they said, "that it don't like either of us. If the chameleon don't suit it, the porcupine should; and if it is not pleased with the porcupine's bristling, it ought to be with the chameleon's amiability and complaisance." Silly beasts; they did not know that people despise both the changeling and the bully. The man who has no opinions of his own, and the man whose opinions are continually obtruded like the spines of the hedgehog, are equally offensive. The true man has opinions, and is ready to state and defend them on all proper occasions. But he respects the opinions of others, and does not roll himself up in a ball of self-conceit, and say, If you touch me, I'll stick you. Writing about bristles, we are reminded of the man who was always boasting that he had more backbone than his neighbors. He was ready to stand up even alone for what he believed. He was ready at all times to fight with those who differed with him. One day, after he had stuck out his quills as usual, an old man said to him: "John, you remind me of a hedgehog. Because it has a very weak backbone, nature has covered it with bristles. It can roll itself up like a piece of India rubber, and then its sharp spines stick out in all directions. Animals which have strong backbones never have any bristles. The man who is always boasting of his courage is an arrant coward. He wants to conceal his sense of moral weakness by bluster and bravado." And the old man was right.—Interior.