Sermons & Devotionals by Timothy Shay Arthur

Hints for Husbands Timothy Shay Arthur There is an article afloat in the papers entitled "Golden Rules for Wives," which enjoins upon the ladies a rather abject submission to their husbands' will and whims. Iron rules, not golden ones, we should call them. But the art of living together in harmony i... Read More

Three Ways of Managing a Wife Timothy Shay Arthur "I have said, Mrs. Wilson, that it is my will to have it so, and I thought you knew me well enough to know that my will is unalterable. Therefore, if you please, let me hear no more about it!" "But, my dear husband, the boy — " "But, madam, I assure ... Read More

Giving That Does Not Impoverish Timothy Shay Arthur, 1869 Of all the fallacies accepted by men as truths, there is none more widely prevalent, nor more fatal to happiness, than that which assumes the measure of possessions, to be the measure of enjoyment . All over the world, the strife for accumula... Read More

The Genii of the Gold Mines Timothy Shay Arthur, 1856 "Can gold calm passion, or make reason shine? Can we dig peace or wisdom from the mine? Wisdom to gold prefer; for 'tis much less To make our fortune than our happiness." — Young. David Winters sat by the fireside one cold blustering night. His a... Read More

My Father Timothy Shay Arthur, 1856 I have a very early recollection of my father as a cheerful man, and of our home as a place full of the heart's warmest sunshine. But the father of my childhood and the father of my more advanced years, wore a very different exterior. He had grown silent, thoughtf... Read More

The School Girl by Timothy Shay Arthur "Where are you off to now?" said Frederick Williams to his friend Charles Lawson, on entering his own office and finding the latter, carpet-bag in hand, awaiting his arrival. "Off for a day or two on a little business affair," replied Lawson. "Business! What ha... Read More

Riches and Poverty Timothy Shay Arthur "I wouldn't give much for his chance of Heaven!" was the remark of a man, whose coarse, well-worn garments contrasted strongly with the dark, rich broadcloth of the person to whom he referred. In the tones of the individual who uttered this sentence was a clear... Read More

The First Marriage in the Family Timothy Shay Arthur "HOME!" How that little word strikes upon the heart strings, awakening all the sweet memories that had slept in memory's chamber! Our home was a "pearl of price" among homes; not for its architectural elegance — for it was only a four gabled, brow... Read More

Not at Home! by Timothy Shay Arthur Jonathan Bebee has one merit, if he possesses no other, and that is, the merit of being able to make himself completely at home with all his friends, male or female, high or low, rich or poor, under any and all circumstances. His good opinion of himself leaves no ... Read More

The Darlington's Timothy Shay Arthur, 1851 A lady, past the prime of life, sat thoughtful, as twilight fell duskily around her, in a room furnished with great elegance. That her thoughts were far from being pleasant, the sober, even sad expression of her countenance too clearly testified. She was dr... Read More

The Home of Taste By Timothy Shay Arthur, 1853 There are three words, in the utterance of which more power over the feelings is gained, than in the utterance of any other words in the language. These are "Mother," "Home," and "Heaven." Each appeals to a different emotion — each bears influence over ... Read More

The Brilliant — and the Commonplace by Timothy Shay Arthur [Editor's note: Perhaps this article is Timothy Shay Arthur's response to the criticisms of Edgar Allen Poe. Poe was a contemporary of Arthur, and wrote that Arthur was "uneducated and too fond of mere vulgarities to please a refined taste. ... Read More

Aunt Mary Timothy Shay Arthur, 1856 A lady sat alone in her own room one clear evening, when the silver stars were out, and the moon shone as pure as the spirit of peace upon the rebellious earth. How lovely was every outward thing! How beautiful is God's creation! The window curtains were drawn clo... Read More

The Cradle in the Garret Timothy Shay Arthur, 1851 It was an old-fashioned little cradle. The proud daughter-in-law would scorn to have it in the nursery. Her children sleep in dainty cribs; and the relic of olden times is pushed into a darkened corner, away up in the garret. It is a quiet autumnal ... Read More

The Benefits of Music Timothy Shay Arthur, 1856 The old notion, that music could be learned only by those who had a peculiar gift or ear for it, seems to be pretty nearly exploded. It seems to be everywhere conceded, by those who have paid much attention to the subject, that music may be as generall... Read More

Do You Know What Your Children Read? Timothy Shay Arthur, 1856 Not many days ago, we saw a couple of young ladies returning from the city library with several volumes apiece, which they had selected to read. In looking over the titles, we inquired of one of the ladies, "Does your father allow you to... Read More

Digging up Seeds Timothy Shay Arthur, 1861 "They'll never come up!" said the voice of a child. He was fretful and impatient. "They've been planted three days. I knew they wouldn't grow!" The little boy who thus complained, was standing over a bed in the garden, where he had some flower-seeds. He had... Read More

Golden Days! Timothy Shay Arthur, 1861 "Brass, copper, iron — but never gold. Life, like the ages, returns not to golden innocence. It would have been better, I think, sometimes, that we had never been born!" "I have never thought so." She who answered thus was a pale, thin woman, who sat by a table... Read More

The Power of Kindness (We do not know the origin of the following excellent article.) A certain individual, whom we shall call Bullard, was one of the most cross and peevish of men. It was misery to be near him. He grumbled and snarled incessantly, and found fault with everyone and everything around... Read More

Poor Cousin Eunice By Timothy Shay Arthur, 1861 "I have a letter from Windham," said Mr. Gregory. It was nearly five minutes after he had come in, one cold Saturday evening in November. A fire had been made up in the dining-room, and his wife and two oldest daughters, Harriet and Lizzy, were sitting... Read More