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The mind may constitute a fire that will consume the body in this life, and become its own endless torment in the future.

God rests in His own completeness; the Christian only when he stands complete in Him.

"There remaiueth also a rest for the people of God." To him that overcometh is the promise of the crown.

It is by doing the Master's will that we gain nearest access to His gracious presence.

"In his cell at close of day,

Worn with fasting, old and grey,
Knelt a hermit down to pray,
This his prayer: 'Oh! Jesus, Lord!
Beautiful and most adored,

It is written in thy Word,

That in thy majesty

With thy servants thou wilt be;

Manifest thyself to me.

Let me look upon thy face,
Only once and let this place.
Be illumined by thy grace,
Only once.'-The very air
Listened, as he waited there.
prayer,
But the place was dark and chill
As before, and all was still;

For the answer to his

Said the hermit: "Tis His will.'

Then the wind, with mournful breath,
Brought the sounds of pain and death
From the stricken town beneath;
And he rose and went his way,
Downward where the sufferers lay,
Or to work, or watch and pray.
So he toiled throughout the night,
Till the dying, at the sight

Of his old, grey reverend head,
Roused and blest him from the bed,
In the last faint words he said.

But the hermit suddenly,
With a look of ecstacy,
Fell upon his bended knee,
For a vision clear and fair
Floated on the silent air;

Christ, the Lord, was standing there,
Full of love and full of grace,
Bringing heaven to the place.

In the glory of His face.

And He said: 'Beloved, see,
Never prayer can answered be
If it only call on Me;
Selfish prayer availeth nought.
Better offering thou hast brought,
With a nobler spirit fraught.
Where the paths of duty lie,
With devotions pure and high
Servest thou-and here am I.'”

We gaze upward, and watch the seeming wanton movement of the fleecy clouds, which appear to our outward vision as if there were no order or design in their apparent useless motion, as the ethereal substance floats hither and thither, assuming myriad forms, which our fancy converts into similitudes as various and chimerical as heathen mythologist. We wonder and admire, but fail to discern their use or relation to the material universe. The gorgeous brilliancy of their twilight matiné, when rejoicing in the effulgence of the descending sun, captivates our senses, and we feel their mystic spell, and linger and dream, entranced by the dissolving view. But we fail of a full appreciation of their beneficent office until, disrobed of their magic hues, they appear in their sombre working garb, and collect their humorous forces for action, brooding with piteous moan over the parched and thirsty mother Earth, with her myriads of drooping plants and flowers, like little weary feverish children, gazing upward for help. It is when they pour their soothing contents in a refreshing bath upon the needy, expectant earth that we comprehend their beneficent office, and no longer question their Divine mission or inquire if God directs the clouds.

"Living things have his care;

All the beasts of the field,

And the fowls of the air,

All the flowers, too, he clothes

In habiliments proud;

How can we doubt that He directs the cloud?

God has not revealed to any one person all His will or wisdom; therefore no human production is beyond criticism, but the humblest individual who will do His will shall know of this doctrine.

The solitude of genius is sweet.

It is the blending of the golden and sombre threads of life that produces the most desirable texture.

"Life is one, and in its warp and woof

There runs a thread of gold that glitters fair,
And sometimes, in the pattern, shows most sweet
Where there are sombre colors."

We have abundant testimony that happiness is not dependent upon health, or wealth, or any mere external good. Many afflicted ones have declared by their patient and cheerful lives that, like Paul, "they could glory in infirmities, that the power of Christ might be made manifest."

Adverse winds develop the temperature of the soul, producing a vigorous and healthful life.

A direct answer to our importunities may be our greatest misfortune.

Patchwork is a kind of sewing journal of a maiden's life, light and shade alternating. Each little square hath its history.

"Who would be God's, must trust and see,
Not murmur, fear, demand;

Must wholly by Him guided be.

Last in that loving band,

Must turn where'er He leads, nor say
Whither, oh whither, points the way.

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"Thus when by earth's cross lights perplexed, We crave the thing that should not be, God, reading right our erring text,

Gives what we would ask, could we but see."

"Life is strong and still bears onward

To new tasks, and sorrows new,
Whether we will or no."

Trench.

Life is a journey about which we were not consulted, but one in which we are fearfully concerned.

Praise God for mysteries. Finite creatures are not capable of an adequate appreciation of His holy nature, were He to make a full revelation of Himself; therefore, let us bow with reverence and awe before His august infinitude.

"A God understood would cease to be God."

Our Heavenly Father has so constituted us that we can find real and abiding enjoyment only in the moderate use of His gifts, mental or physical. Excessive indulgence in either is sure to cause satiety and dis

ease.

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