311. CARE, God's.

There are who sigh that no fond heart is theirs,

[sigh; None love them best. O vain and selfish Out of the bosom of His love He spares—

The Father spares the Son, for thee to die: For thee He died-for thee He lives again; O'er thee He watches in His boundless reign. Thou art as much His care as if beside

Nor man nor angel lived in heaven or earth:

Thus sunbeams pour alike their glorious tide To light up worlds, or wake an insect's mirth; [store; They shine, and shine with unexhausted Thou art thy Saviour's darling-seek no J. Keble.

more.

312. CARE Personified.

Rude was his garment, and to rags all rent,
No better had he, nor for better cared; [brent,
With blist'red hands amongst the cinders
And fingers filthy, with long nails unpared,
Right fit to rend the food on which he fared:
His name was Care; a blacksmith by his
trade,
[spared,
That neither day nor night from working
But to small purpose iron wedges made:
Those be unquiet thoughts that careful minds
invade.
E. Spenser.

313. CARE, Refuge from.

Careful without care I am,
Nor feel my happy toil,
Kept in peace by Jesu's Name,
Supported by His smile.
Joyful thus my faith to show,
I find His service my reward:
Every work I do below,

I do it to the Lord.

Thou, O Lord, in tender Love,
Dost all my burdens bear,
Lift my heart to things above,

And fix it ever there.
Calm on tumult's wheel I sit,
'Midst busy multitudes alone,
Sweetly waiting at Thy feet,
Till all Thy will be done.
To the desert or the cell
Let others blindly fly:
In this evil world I dwell,

Unhurt, unspotted I.
Here I find a house of prayer
To which I inwardly retire,
Walking unconcerned in care,
And unconsumed in fire.
Charles Wesley.

314. CARE, Rest from.

I lay me down to sleep,
With little care
Whether my waking find

Me here or there.
A bowing, burdened head
That only asks to rest,
Unquestioning, upon
A loving breast.

My good right hand forgets Its cunning now;

To march the weary march

I know not how.

I am not eager, bold,

Nor strong--all that is past;
I am ready not to do
At last, at last.

My half-day's work is done,
And this is all my part-
I give a patient God

My patient heart;

And grasp His banner still, Though all the blue be dim; These stripes as well as stars Lead after Him.

Found under the head of a dead soldier in Port Royal Hospital.

315. CARE, Sermon on.

All nature a sermon may preach thee;
The birds sing thy murmurs away,-
The birds which, nor sowing nor reaping,
God fails not to feed day by day;
And He, who the creature doth cherish,
Will He fail thee, and leave thee to perish?
Or art thou not better than they?

The lilies, nor toiling nor spinning

Their clothing, how gorgeous and fair! What tints in their tiny robes woven,

What wondrous devices are there! All Solomon's stores could not render One festival robe of such splendor

As the flowers have for every-day wear. God gives to each flower its rich raiment, And o'er them His treasures flings free, Which to-day finds so fragrant in beauty, And to-morrow all faded shall see. Thus the lilies smile shame on thy care, And the happy birds sing it to air:

Will their God be forgetful of thee?
Spegel, tr. by Mrs. Charles.

316. CARE, Succession of.

When one is past, another care we have; Thus woe succeeds a woe, as wave a wave. Robert Herrick.

317. CAUSE, Finding the. The wall said to the nail, done,

"" What have I

We see but half the causes of our deeds,
Seeking them wholly in the outer life,
And heedless of the encircling spirit-world,
Which, though unseen, is felt, and sows in us
All germs of and world-wide purposes.
pure
From one stage of our being to the next
We pass unconscious o'er a slender bridge,
The momentary work of unseen hands,
Which crumbles down behind us; looking
back,

We see the other, shore, the gulf between, And, marvelling how we won to where we stand,

Content ourselves to call the builder Chance.
We trace the wisdom to the apple's fall,
Not to the birth-throes of a mighty Truth
Which, for long ages in blank Chaos dumb,
Yet yearned to be incarnate, and had found
At last a spirit meet to be the womb

From which it might be born to bless mankind,

Not to the soul of Newton, ripe with all
The hoarded thoughtfulness of earnest years,
And waiting but one ray of sunlight more
To blossom fully.

But whence came that ray?
We call our sorrows Destiny, but ought
Rather to name our high successes so.
Only the instincts of great souls are Fate,
And all have predestined sway: all other

things,

Except by leave of us, could never be.
For Destiny is but the breath of God
Still moving us, the last fragment left
Of our unfallen nature, waking oft
Within our thought, to beckon us beyond
The narrow circle of the seen and known,
And always tending to a noble end,
As all things must that overrule the soul,
And for a space unseat the helmsman, Will.
James Russell Lowell.

320. CAUTION, Wise. When clouds are seen wise men put on their cloaks;

When great leaves fall, then winter is at hand;

When the sun sets, who doth not look for night?

Untimely storms make men expect a dearth: All may be well; but if God sort it so, "Tis more than we deserve, or I expect.

Shakespeare.

321. CENSURE, Lenient.

Ah, look thou largely, with lenient eyes,
On whatso beside thee may creep and cling,
For the possible beauty that underlies

The passing phase of the meanest thing!

What if God's great angels, whose waiting Beholdeth our pitiful life below, [love From the holy height of their heaven above, Couldn't bear with the worm till the wings should grow?

322. CENSURE, Mitigation of.

O ye wha are sae guid yoursel',
Sae pious and sae holy,

Ye've nought to do but mark and tell
Your neebor's fauts and folly:
Whase life is like a weel-gaun mill,
Supplied wi' store o' water,

The heaped happer's ebbing still,
And still the clap plays clatter.
Think, when your castigated pulse
Gies now and then a wallop,
What ragings must his veins convulse
That still eternal gallop:
Wi' wind and tide fair i' your tail,
Right on ye scud your sea-way;
But in the teeth o' baith to sail,
It makes an unco leeway.

Then gently scan your

brother man,
Still gentler sister woman;
Though they may gang a kennin' wrang,
To step aside is human.

One point must still be greatly dark,
The moving why they do it;
And just as lamely can ye mark

How far perhaps they rue it.

Who made the heart, 'tis He alone
Decidedly can try us;

He knows each chord,-its various tone,
Each spring,-its various bias:
Then at the balance let's be mute,

We never can adjust it;

What's done we partly may compute,
But know not what's resisted.

323. CEREMONY, Mockery of

Robert Burns.

And what art thou, thou idol, ceremony? What kind of good art thou? that sufferest

more

Of mortal grief than do thy worshippers.
What are thy rents? What are thy comings
O ceremony, show me but thy worth: [in ?
What is thy toll, O adoration?
Art thou aught else but place, degree, and
Creating awe and fear in other men? [form,
Wherein thou art less happy, being fear'd,
Than they in fearing.

What think'st thou oft, instead of homage
sweet,
[ness,
But poison'd flattery? O be sick, great great-
And bid thy ceremony give thee cure.
Shakespeare.

324. CEREMONY, Religious.

Then ceremony leads her bigots forth,
Prepared to fight for shadows of no worth;
While truths, on which eternal things de-
pend,

Find not, or hardly find, a single friend;
As soldiers watch the signal of command,
They learn to bow, to kneel, to sit, to stand,
Happy to fill religion's vacant place
With hollow form, and gesture and grimace.
W. Cowper.

325. CHANGE, Benefit of

The world goes up and the world goes down,
And sunshine follows the rain;
And yesterday's sneer and yesterday's frown
Can never come over again,

No never come over again.

Sweet wife,

Times go by turns, and chances change by From foul to fair, from better hap to worse.

The sea of Fortune doth not ever flow,

She draws her favors to the lowest ebb; Her tides have equal time to come and go; Her loom doth weave the fine and coarsest No joy so great but runneth to an end, [web; No hap so hard but may in fine amend.

Not always fall of leaf, nor ever spring;
No endless night, yet no eternal day;
The saddest birds a season find to sing;

The roughest storm a calm may soon allay; Thus with succeeding turns God tempereth all,

That man may hope to rise, yet fear to fall.
A chance may win that by mischance was lost;
That net that holds no great, takes little
fish,
[crossed;
In some things all, in all things none are
Few all they need, but none have all they
Unmeddled joys here to no man befall, [wish ;
Who least hath some, who most hath never
all.
Robert Southwell.

327. CHANGE, Lesson of.
Be not proud, but now incline
Your soft ear to discipline.
You have changes in your life,
Sometimes peace and sometimes strife;
You have cbbs of face and flowers,
As your health or comes, or goes:

330. CHARACTER, Accomplished. His real habitude gave life and grace To appertainings and to ornament, Accomplished in himself, not in his case: All aids themselves made fairer by their place;

Came for additions, yet their purpos'd trim
Pierc'd not his grace, but were all grac'd by
So on the tip of his subduing tongue [him.
All kinds of arguments and questions deep,
All replication prompt, and reason strong,
For his advantage still did wake and sleep:
He had the dialect and different skill,
To make the weeper laugh, the laugher weep,
Catching all passions in his craft of will;
That he did in the general bosom reign
Of young, of old; and sexes both enchanted.
Shakespeare.

331. CHARACTER, Building up.
So build we up the being that we are,
Thus drinking in the soul of things,
We shall be wise perforce; and while inspired
By choice, and conscious that the will is free,
Unswerving shall we move, as if impelled
By strict necessity along the path
Of order and of good. Whate'er we see,
Whatc'er we feel by agency direct

Or indirect, shall tend to feed and nurse

Our faculties, shall fix in calmer seats
Of moral strength, and raise to loftier heights
Of love divine, our intellectual soul.

Wm. Wordsworth.

332. CHARACTER, Grades of

low,

The scale

Of being is a graduated thing;
And deeper than the vanities of power,
Or the vain pomp of glory there is writ
Gradation, in its hidden characters.
The pathway to the grave may be the same,
And the proud man shall tread it, and the
[pany.
With his bowed head, shall bear him com-
Decay will make no difference, and death,
With his cold hand, shall make no difference;
And there will be no precedence of power,
In waking at the coming trump of God;
But in the temper of the invisible mind,
The godlike and undying intellect,
There are distinctions that will live in heaven,
When time is a forgotten circumstance!
The elevated brow of kings will lose
The impress of regalia, and the slave
Will wear his immortality as free,
Beside the crystal waters; but the depth
Of glory in the attributes of God
Will measure the capacities of mind;
And as the angels differ, will the ken
Of gifted spirits glorify him more.
It is life's mystery. The soul of man
Createth its own destiny of power;
And, as the trial is intenser here,
His being hath a nobler strength in heaven.
N. P. Willis.

333. CHARACTER, Thought from.
The rascal, thinking from his point of view,
Concludes that all the world are rascals too.
Oriental, tr. by W. R. Alger.

334. CHARACTER, Vacillation of.

It's my honest conviction,. That my breast is a chaos of all contradic

tion; Religious-deistic-now loyal and warm; Then a dagger-drawn democrat hot for reform:

This moment a fop, that sententious as Titus;
Democritus now, and anon Heraclitus;
Now laughing and pleased, like a child with
a rattle;

Then vexed to the soul with impertinent tattle; Now moody and sad, now unthinking and gay,

To all points of the compass I veer in a day. Henry Kirke White.

335. CHARACTER, Varieties of. Nature hath framed strange fellows in her time: [eyes, Some, that will evermore peep through their And laugh, like parrots, at a bag-piper; And other of such vinegar aspect, [smile, That they'll not show their teeth in way of Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable.

Shakespeare.

A shield and a helmet, a buckler and spear, Weighed less than a widow's uncrystallized tear.

A lord and a lady went up at full sail, When a bee chanced to light on the opposite scale; [earl, Ten doctors, ten lawyers, two courtiers, one Ten counsellors' wigs, full of powder and curl, [from thence,

Art thou stricken in life's battle? many wounded round thee moan;

Lavish on their wounds thy balsams, and that balm shall heal thine own.

Is the heart a well left empty? None but God its void can fill;

Nothing but a ceaseless Fountain can its ceaseless longings fill;

Is the heart a living power? Self-entwined, its strength sinks low;

and sense;

A first-water diamond, with brilliants begirt, Than one good potato just washed from the dirt; [suffice Yet not mountains of silver and gold could One pearl to outweigh,-'twas THE PEARL

OF GREAT PRICE.

Last of all, the whole world was bowled in at the grate, [weight, With the soul of a beggar to serve for a When the former sprang up with so strong a rebuff [roof! That it made a vast rent and escaped at the When balanced in air, it ascended on high, And sailed up aloft, a balloon in the sky; While the scale with the soul in't so mightily fell

That it jerked the philosopher out of his cell. Jane Taylor.

337. CHARITY, Application of. What use the preacher's truth and earnest

exhortation?

[tion. The hearer makes thereof inverted applicaA miser listened once to a discourse most

moving,

The habit of unstinted charity approving. He said: "I never was before so much affected:

How beautiful is charity when well directed! So clear and noble is the duty of almsgiving, At once I'll go and beg, as sure as I am living." Oriental.

338. CHARITY, Compensation of

Is thy cruse of comfort failing? rise and share it with another,

And through all the years of famine it shall serve thee and thy brother.

Love Divine will fill the storehouse, or thy handful still renew; [feast for two. Scanty fare for one will often make a royal For the heart grows rich in giving; all its wealth is living gain;

Seeds, which mildew in the garner, scattered, fill with gold the plain.

Is thy burden hard and heavy? do thy steps drag wearily?

Help to bear thy brother's burden; God will bear both it and thee.

Numb and weary on the mountains, wouldst thou sleep amidst the snow? Chafe that frozen form beside thee, and together both shall glow.

will grow.

Mrs. Charles.

At last she started up,

And gazed on the vacant air
With a look of awe, as if she saw
Some dreadful phantom there;
And then in the pillow she buried her face
From visions ill to bear.

The very curtains shook,

Her terror was so extreme,

And the light that fell on the broider'd quilt Kept a tremulous gleam; [cried : And her voice was hollow, and shook as she "Oh me! that awful dream!

That weary, weary walk,

In the church-yard's dismal ground! And those horrible things with shady wings, That came and flitted round; Death, death, and nothing but death, In every sight and sound! And oh! those maidens young,

Who wrought in that dreary room,
With figures drooping and spectres thin,
And cheeks without a bloom; [pride
And the voice that cried, 'For the pomp of
We haste to an early tomb!

For the pomp and pleasure of Pride
We toil like Afric slaves,
And only to earn a home at last,

Where yonder cypress waves;'
And then they pointed-I never saw
A ground so full of graves!