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168. ATHEISM, Contradiction of.

But, if the warring winds of Nature's strife "No God! no God!" the simplest flower If Chance awaked, inexorable power í

Be all the faithless charter of my life,
That on the wild is found,
Shrinks as it drinks its cup of dew,

This frail and feverish being of an hour, And trembles at the sound.

Doomed o'er the world's precarious scene to

sweep, No God astonished Echo cries

Swift as the tempest travels on the deep, From out her cavern hoar:

To know Delight but by her parting smile, And every wandering bird that flies And toil, and wish, and weep, a little while; Reproves the Atheist lore.

Then melt, ye elements, that formed in vain

This troubled pulse, and visionary brain ! The solemn forest lifts bis head,

Fade, ye wild flowers, memorials of my The Almighty to proclaim;

doom! The brooklet on its crystal urn,

And sink, ye stars, that light me to the tomb ! Doth leap to grave his name.

Truth, ever lovely, since the world began, High swells the deep and vengeful sea

The foe of tyrants, and the friend of man,

How can thy words from balmy slumber Along its billowy track,

start And red Vesuvius opes his mouth

Reposing Virtue, pillowed on the heart ! To hurl the falsehood back.

Yet, if thy voice the note of thunder rolled, Lydia H. Sigourney.

And that were true which Nature never told, 169. ATHEISM, Desolation of.

Let Wisdom smile not on her conquered field: 0! lives there, heaven! beneath thy dread Oh! let her read, nor loudly, nor elate,

No rapture dawns, no treasure is revealed ! expanse,

The doom that bars us from a better fate! One hopeless, dark idolater of Chance, Content to feed, with pleasures unrefined,

But, sad as angels for the good man's sin,

Weep to record, and blush to give it in! The lukewarm passions of a lowly mind;

Thomas Campbell. Who, mouldering earthward, 'reft of every In joyless union wedded to the dust, (trust,

170, ATHEISM, Wilful. Could all his parting energy dismiss,

The owlet Atheism, And call this barren world sufficient bliss – Sailing on obscene wings across the moon, There live, alas ! of heaven-directed mien, Drops his blue-fringed lids and shuts them Of cultured soul, and sapient eye serene,

close, Who hail thce, man! the pilgrim of a day, And, hooting at the glorious sun in Heaven, Spouse of the worm, and brother of the Cries out, “ Where is it?" clay!

8. T. Coleridge. Frail as the leaf in Autumn's yellow bower, 171. ATHEIST, Caution to the. Dust in the wind, or dew upon the flower!

Atheist, forbear; no more blaspheme: A friendless slave, a child without a sire,

God has a thousand terrors in his name, Whose mortal life, and momentary fire,

A thousand armies at command, Lights to the grave his chance-created form, Waiting the signal of his hand, [flame. As ocean-wrecks illuminate the storm ; And, when the gun's tremendous flash is o'er, Dress thee in steel to meet his wrath;

And magazines of frost, and magazines of To night and silence sink for ever more !

His sharp artillery from the north Are these the pompous tidings ye proclaim,

Shall pierce thee to the soul, and shake thy mortal frame.

Isaac Watts. Lights of the world, and demi-gods of fame Is this your triumph—this your proud ap

172. ATHEIST, Labor of the. plause,

(cause ?

The unbeliever Children of Truth, and champions of her Despising reason, revelation, God, [rushed For this hath Science search'd, on weary wing, And kicking 'gainst the pricks of conscience, By shore and sea—each mute and living Deliriously upon the bossy shield thing?

[there, Of the Omnipotent; and in his heart Oh! star-eyed Science, hast thou wandered Purposed to deify the idol Chance. [nought ! To waft us home the message of despair — And labored hard-oh, labor worse than Then bind the palm, thy sage's brow to suit, And toiled with dark and crooked reasoning, Of blasted leaf, and death-distilling fruit ! To make the fair and lovely Earth, which Ah me! the laurelled wreath that murder dwelt rears,

(tears, In sight of Heaven, a cold and fatherless, Blood-nursed, and watered by the widow's Forsaken thing, that wandered on, forlorn, Seems not so foul, so tainted, and so dread, Undestined, uncompassioned, unupheld; As waves the night-shade round the sceptic's A vapor eddying in the whirl of chance, head.

And soon to vanish everlastingly. What is the bigot's torch, the tyrant's chain ? He travailed sorely, and made many a tack, I smile on death, if heavenward hope re- His sails oft shifting, to arrive—dread main!



Arrive at utter nothingness; and have With blood—but not his own—the Jew drew Being no more—no feeling, memory,

[prayer. No lingering consciousness that ere he was. The mercy-seat, and heaven received his Guilt's midnight wish! last, most abhorred Yet still his hope was dimmed with doubt thought.

and fear:

[might dare Most desperate effort of extremest sin. “If thou shouldst mark transgression who Others, preoccupied, ne'er saw true hope; To stand before thee ?." Mercy loves to spare He, seeing, aimed to stab her to the heart, And pardon: but stern Justice has a voice, And with infernal chemistry to wring And cries–Our God is holy, nor can bear The last sweet drop from sorrow's cup of gall; Uncleanness in the people of his choice. To quench the only ray that cheered the earth, But now One Offering ne'er to be renewed, And leave mankind in night which had no star. Hath made our peace forever. This now Others the streams of pleasure troubled; he gives Toiled much to dry her very fountain head. Free access to the Throne of Heavenly Grace, Unpardonable man! sold under sin!

No more base fear and dark disquietude. He was the Devil's pioneer, who cut

He who was slain—the Accepted Victim !The fences down of virtue, sapped her walls, lives, And opened a smooth and easy way to death. And intercedes before the Father's face. Traitor to all existence! to all life!

Josiah Conder. Soul-suicide! determined foe of being! 176, ATONEMENT, Marvel of tho. Intended murderer of God, Most High!

What laws, my blessed Saviour, hast thou Strange road, most strange! to seek for hap

broken, piness! Hell's mad-houses are full of such; too fierce, How hast Thou 'gainst Thy Father's will

That so severe a sentence should be spoken ? Too furiously insane, and desperate,

In what offended ? [contended, To rage unbound 'mong evil spirits damned !

Robert Pollok.

With scourges, blows, and spitting, they

reviled Thee: 173. ATONEMENT, Confidence in the. They crowned Thy brow with thorns, while My dear Redeemer and my God,

King they styled Thee; Í stake my soul on Thy Free Grace : When, faint with pains, Thy tortured body Take back my interest in Thy Blood,

Then gall they offered. (suffered Unless it streamed for all the race. I stake my soul on this alone,

Say! wherefore thus by woes wast Thou THY BLOOD DID ONCE FOR ALL STONE. Ah! Lord, for my transgressions Thou wast

surrounded ?

(wounded: Charles Wesley.

God took the guilt from me, who should have

On Thee He laid it. 174. ATONEMENT, Completeness of the.

(paid it; Lord, I believe Thy precious blood, How strange and marvellous was this corWhich at the mercy-seat of God


(tection ; Forever doth for sinners plead,

Falls the good Shepherd in His sheep's proFor meme'en for my soul-was shed. The servants' debt behold the Master paying,

For them obeying. Lord, I believe were sinners more

The righteous dies, who walked with God Than sands upon the ocean shore,

true-hearted: Thou hast for all a ransom paid, The sinner lives, who has from God departed; For all a full atonement made.

By man came death, yet man its fetters John Wesley.

God it o'ertaketh. [breaketh; 175. ATONEMENT, Demand for.

Shame and iniquity had whelmed me over: With blood—but not his own—the awful sign From head to foot no good couldst Thou disAt once of sin's desert and guilt's

remission, For this in hell should I, with deep lamenting, The Jew besought the clemency divine, The hope of mercy blending with contrition.

Be aye repenting. Sin must have death! Its holy requisition But oh! the depth of love beyond comparing,

The law may not relax. The opening tomb That brought Thee down from heaven, our Expects its prey; mere respite, life's condi

burden bearing!

I taste all peace and joy that life can offer, Nor can the body shun its penal doom.

Whilst Thou must suffer! Yet, there is mercy; wherefore else delay

To punish? Why the victim and the rite ? Eternal King! in power and love excelling, But can the type and symbol take away Fain would my heart and mouth Thy praise The guilt, and for a broken law requite ?

be telling;

(nigh Thee, The cross unfolds the mystery,- Jesus died : But how can man's weak powers at all come The sinner lives: the Law is satisfied.

How magnify Thee ?


Such wondrous love would baffle my endeavor , Must canker in its coffer—if the links
To find its equal, should I strive forever: Falsehood hath broken will unite no more-
How should my works, could I in all obey If the deep-yearning , love, that hath not
Ever repay Thee!

[Thee, found

Its like in the cold world, must waste in tearsYet this shall please Thee, if devoutly trying If truth, and fervor, must return To keep Thy laws, mine own wrong will And die of their own fulness—if beyond denying,

The grave there is no heaven in whose wide I watch my heart, lest sin again ensnare it

air And from Thee tear it.

The spirit may find room, and in the love Johann Heermann, tr. by F. E. Cox.

Of whose bright habitants the lavish heart 177. ATONEMENT, Substitution of the. May spend itselfwhat thrice-mocked fools are

we! Look humbly upward, see His will disclose

N. P. Willis. The forfeit first, and then the fine impose; 180. ATTRAOTIONS, Earthly. A mulct thy poverty could never pay, Farewell, ye gilded follies, pleasing troubles ; Had not eternal wisdom found the way Farewell, ye honored rags, ye glorious bubAnd with celestial wealth supplied thy store;

bles; His justice makes the fine, His mercy quits Fame's but a hollow echo; gold, pure clay ; the score.

Honor, the darling but of one short day ; See God descending in the human frame, Beauty, the idol, but a damasked skin; The offended suffering in the offender's name: State, but a golden prison to live in, All thy misdeeds to Him imputed see, And torture free-born ,minds; embroidered And all His righteousness devolved on thee. trains,

John Dryden. Merely but pageants for proud-swelling veins; 178. ATTAINMENT, Failure of.

And blood applied to greatness, is alone

If this mute earth Inherited, not purchased, nor our own: Of what it holds could speak, and every Fame, honor, beauty, state, train, blood, and

birth grave Were as a volume, shut, yet capable

Are but the fading blossoms of the earth. Of yielding its contents to eye and ear,

Francis Quarles. We should recoil, stricken with sorrow and 181. ATTRACTION, Roversed. shame,

Chains of my heart, avaunt, I say; To see disclosed, by such dread proof, how ill

I will arise, and in the strength of love That which is done accords with what is Pursue the bright track, ere it fade away, known

My Saviour's pathway to His home above. To reason, and by conscience is enjoined; How idly, how perversely, life's whole Sure, when I reach the point where earth course,

Melts into nothing from th' uncumbered To this conclusion, deviates from the line,


[birth, Or of the end stops short, proposed to all Heaven will o'ercome th' attraction of my At her aspiring outset.

And I shall sink in yonder sea of light. William Wordsworth.

John Keble. 179. ATTAINMENT, Mockery of.

182. AUTHOR, Fame of the. There are hopes

He hath built up, glorious architect, a monuPromising well; and love-touch'd dreams

ment more durable than brass; for some;


His children's children shall talk, of him in

love, and teach their sons his honor; And passions, many a wild one; and fair

His dignity hath set him among princes; the For gold and pleasure—yet will only this

universe is debtor to his worth ; Balk not the soul-Ambition only gives, Even of bitterness, a beaker full!

His privilege is blessing forever, his happi

ness shineth now, Friendship is but a slow-awaking dream, Troubled at best-Love is a lamp unseen,

For he standeth of that grand Election, each Burning to waste, or, if its light is found,

man one among a thousand, Nursed for an idle hour, then idly broken- Whose sound is gone out unto all the lands,

and their words to the end of the world. Gain is a grovelling care, and Folly tires,

M. F. Tupper. And Quiet is a hunger never fedAnd from Love's very bosom, and from Gain, 183. AUTHORSHIP, Benefit of. Or folly, or a Friend, or from Repose,- It addeth immortality to dying facts, that From all but keen Ambition-will the soul

are ready to vanish away, Snatch the first moment of forgetfulness Embalming as in amber the poor insects of To wander like a restless child away.

an hour ; Oh, if there were not better hopes than these— Shedding upon stocks and stones the tender Were there no palm beyond a feverish fame- light of interest, If the proud wealth flung back upon the And illuming dark places of the earth with heart

radiance of classic lustre.

It hath power to make past things present, and 187. AUTUMN, Lesson of.
availeth for the
present in the future,

The Autumn is old;
Delivering thoughts, and words, and deeds,

The sere leaves are flying;
from the outer darkness of oblivion.

He hath gathered up gold,
M. F. Tupper.

And now he is dying: 184. AUTHORITY, A Little Brief.

Old age, begin sighing!
Oh! it is excellent

The vintage is ripe;
To have a giant's strength; but it is tyrannous

The harvest is heaping; To use it like a giant.

But some that have sowed Could great men thunder

Have no riches for reaping :-
As Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be

Poor wretch, fall a-weeping!
For every pelting, petty officer [quiet;
Would use his heaven for thunder -

The year 's in the wane;
Nothing but thunder. Merciful heaven!

There is nothing adorning; Thou rather, with thy sharp and sulphurous

The night has no eve, bolt,

And the day has no morning;
Split'st the unwedgeable and gnarled oak,

Cold winter gives warning.
Than the soft myrtle: but man, proud man!
Drest in a little brief authority,

The rivers run chill;
Most ignorant of what he's most assured,

The red sun is sinking; His glassy essence, - like an angry ape,

And I am growing old, Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven,

And life is fast shrinking; As make the angels weep; who, with our

Here's enough for sad thinking !

Thomas Hood. spleens, Would all themselves laugh mortal.

188. AVARIOE of the Aged.
Of age's avarice I cannot see

[be; 185. AUTHORITY, Intoxication of.

What color, ground, or reason there should Authority intoxicates,

Is it not folly, when the way we ride And makes mere sots of magistrates;

Is short, for a long voyage to provide ? The fumes of it invade the brain,

To avarice some title youth may own, And make men giddy, proud, and vain;

To reap in autumn, what a spring had sown; By this the fool commands the wise,

And with the providence of bees or ants, The noble with the base complies,

Prevent with summer's plenty winter's wants. The sot assumes the rule of wit,

But age scarce sows, till death stands by to And cowards make the base submit.

reap, Samuel Butler.

And to a stranger's hand transfers the heap;

Afraid to be so once, she's always poor, 186, AUTUMN, Beauty of.

And to avoid a mischief, makes it sure, Mild as the glances of angel eyes,

Such madness, as for fear of death to die, Soft as the kisses of first-born love, [skies As to be poor for fear of poverty. Down through the blaze of these Autumn

Sir John Denham. Comes the glad sunshine from realms above.

189. AVARICE, Disappointed. Beautiful pictures it sketcheth now,

“I give and I devise” (Old Euclio said, Touched with the glowing hues of old, And sigh'd) “my lands and tenements to Painting the valley and mountain's brow


(all ? Over with purple and red and gold. Your money sir ?—“My money, sir, what, Whispers of beauty the spirit fills,

Why, if I must” (then wept), “I give it

(cried, Tales of a land that fadeth never, Sunshine that gildeth the beautiful hills,

The manor, sir :—“The manor ! hold,” he Just over the banks of a crystal river.

'Not that–I cannot part with that," and died.

Alexander Pope. Beautiful rest for the weary soul,

190, AVARICE, Insatiable. Earth had no beauty akin to this; Anthems of gladness forever roll

Canst thou tell me what is insatiable ? Over those halcyon days of bliss.

The greedy eye of avarice!

Were all the universe a loaded table, Down the steeps of life's western hill,

It never, never could fill this! Beautiful sunshine of hope and light,

Oriental, Every shadow and hope dispel,

191. AVARICE, Misery of. Lift my spirit from realms of night.

And greedy avarice by him did ride Soft as the beam of Autumn sun,

Upon a camell loaden all with gold; Sweet as the death of the summer flowers, Two iron coffers hang on either side, Gather thy jewels one by one,

With precious metall full as they might Take my soul to those fadeless bowers.


And in his lap an heap of coin he told; 194, AVARICE, Slavery of.
For of his wicked pelf his god he made,

When thou wouldst take a lazy morning's nay And into hell himself for money sold;

Up, up, says Avarice; thou snor'st again, Accursed usury was all his trade,

Stretchest thy limbs, and yawn'st but all in And right and wrong ylike in equall bal.

vain: ance waide, His life was nigh unto death's dore yplaste; At his command the unwilling sluggard

The tyrant Lucre no denial takes ; (wakes : And thread-bare cote and cobbled shoes he What must I do? he cries: What? says his ware,

lord :

[aboard: He scarce good morsell all his life did taste; Why rise, make ready, and go straight But both from backe and belly still did with fish, from Euxine seas, "thy vessel spare,

freight; To fill his bags, and richesse to compare:

Flax, castor, Coan wines, the precious weight Yet child nor kinsman living had he none, Of pepper, and Sabæan incense take [back: To leave them to; but thorough daily care

With thy own hands from the tir'd camel's To get, and nightly feare to lose his own.

And with poste-haste thy running markets He led a wretched life unto himselfe un

make. known,

[suffice, Be sure to turn the penny: lie and swear; Most wretched wight whom nothing might 'Tis wholesome sin: but Jove, thou say'st, Whose greedy lust did lack in greatest will hear; store,

Swear, fool, or starve; for the dilemma's even: Whose need had end, but no end covetise.

A tradesman thou! and hope to go to heaven? Whose wealth was want, whose plenty

Persius, tr. by John Dryden. made him poor, Who had enough, yet wished evermore. 195. AVERSION, Isolation of.

Edmund Spenser.

It needs not guards in front and rear to keep

the crowd away; 192. AVARICE, Offerings of.

Aversion to the vulgar throng will hold them Thou hop'st with sacrifice of oxen slain

all at bay.

Oriental. To compass wealth, and bribe the god of gain, To give thee flocks and herds, with large in

196. BABE, Coming of an

Have you not heard the poets tell
Fool! to expect them from a bullock's grease! How came the dainty Babie Bell
And think'st that when the fattend flames Into this world of ours ?

The gates of heaven were left ajar :
Thou seest the accomplishment of thy desire! With folded hands and dreamy eyes,
Now, now, my bearded harvest gilds the plain! Wandering out of Paradise,
The scanty folds can scarce my sheep contain, She saw this planet, like a star,
And showers of gold come pouring in amain! Hung on the glistening depths of even, -
Thus dreams the wretch, and vainly thus Its bridges, running to and fro,
dreams on,

O'er which the white-winged angels go, Till his lank purse declares his money gone. Bearing the holy Dead to heaven, [feet, O souls in whom no heavenly fire is found, She touched a bridge of flowers, those Fat minds, and ever grovelling on the ground! So light they did not bend the bells We bring our manners to the blest abodes, Of the celestial asphodels ! And think what pleases us must please the They fell like dew upon the flowers, gods. Persius, tr. by John Dryden. Then all the air grew strangely sweet !

And thus came dainty Babie Bell. 193. AVARICE, Peril of.

Thomas Bailey Aldrich. Yet in thy thriving still misdoubt some evil,

197. BABE, Death of a. Lest gaining gain on thee, and make thee dim


She had seen To all things else. Wealth is the conjuror's All of earth's year except the winter's snows, Whom when he thinks he hath, the devil Spring, summer, autumn, like sweet dreams, hath him.

(sticks had smiled Gold thou mayst safely touch; but if it On her. Eva-or livingwas her name; Unto thy hands, it woundeth to the quick. A bud of life folded in leaves and love;

The dewy morning star of summer days; What skills it if a bag of stones or gold The golden lamps of happy fire-side hours; About thy neck do drown thee? raise thy The little ewe-lamb nestling by our side; head;

The dove whose cooing echoed in our hearts; Take stars for money; stars not to be told The sweetest chord upon our harp of praise : By any art, yet to be purchased.

The quiet spring, the rivulet of joy; None is so wasteful as the scraping dame: The pearl among His gifts who gave us all ; She loseth three for one: her soul, rest, On whom not we alone, but all who look'd, fame.

George Herbert.

Gazing would breathe the involuntary words,

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