4. ABIDING IN CHRIST. Prayer for Christ's presence.

THAT mystic word of Thine, O sovereign Lord,

Is all too pure, too high, too deep for me;
Weary of striving, and with longing faint,
I breathe it back again in prayer to Thee.

Abide in me, I pray, and I in Thee!

From this good hour, O, leave me nevermore ! Then shall the discord cease, the wound be heal'd, The life-long bleeding of the soul be o'er.

Abide in me; o'ershadow by Thy love

One half hath not been told me Of all Thy power and grace; Thy beauty, Lord, and glory, The wonders of Thy love, Shall be the endless story

Of all Thy saints above.

6. ABILITIES. Development of

CALL now to mind what high capacious powers
Lie folded up in man; how far beyond

The praise of mortals may the eternal growth
Of Nature, to perfection half Divine,

Quench, e'er it rise, each selfish, low desire,

And keep my soul as Thine, calm and divine.

As some rare perfume in a vase of clay

Pervades it with a fragrance not its own,

So, when Thou dwellest in a mortal soul,

All heaven's own sweetness seems around it thrown.

The soul alone, like a neglected harp,

Grows out of tune, and needs that Hand Divine : Dwell Thou within it, tune and touch the chords, Till every note and string shall answer Thine.

Abide in me: there have been moments blest,
When I have heard Thy voice and felt Thy power ;
Then evil lost its grasp; and passion, hush'd,
Own'd the divine enchantment of the hour.
These were but seasons, beautiful and rare;
Abide in me, and they shall ever be ;
Fulfil at once Thy precept and my prayer,
Come, and abide in me, and I in Thee.

Harriet Beecher Stowe.

5. ABIDING IN CHRIST: our only safety. O LAMB of God! still keep me Near to Thy wounded side;

'Tis only then in safety

And peace I can abide.

What foes and snares surround me!
What doubts and fears within!
The grace that sought and found me,
Alone can keep me clean.

'Tis only in Thee hiding,

I feel my life secure,

Only in Thee abiding,

The conflict can endure:
Thine arm the vict❜ry gaineth
O'er every hateful foe;
Thy love my heart sustaineth
In all its cares and woe.

Soon shall my eyes behold Thee
With rapture, face to face:

Should sloth's unkindly fogs depress to earth
Her tender blossom, choke the streams of life,
And blast her spring! Far otherwise design'd
Almighty wisdom; Nature's happy cares
The obedient heart far otherwise incline.
Witness the sprightly joy when aught unknown
Strikes the quick sense, and wakes each active power
To brisker measures: witness the neglect

Of all familiar prospects, though beheld
With transport once; the fond attentive gaze
Of young astonishment; the sober zeal
Of age, commenting on prodigious things;
For such the bounteous providence of Heaven,
In every breast implanting this desire

Of objects new and strange, to urge us on
With unremitting labour to pursue

Those sacred stores that wait the ripening soul,
In Truth's exhaustless bosom.-Mark Akenside.

7. ABILITIES. Difference of

ALAS! what differs more than man from man? And whence this difference?-whence but from himself?

For, see the universal race endow'd

With the same upright form! The sun is fix'd,
And the infinite magnificence of heaven,
Within the reach of every human eye :
The sleepless ocean murmurs in all ears;
The vernal field infuses fresh delight

Into all hearts. Throughout the world of sense,
Even as an object is sublime or fair,
That object is laid open to the view
Without reserve or veil; and as a power

Is salutary, or its influence sweet,

Are each and all enabled to perceive

That power, that influence, by impartial law.

Gifts nobler are vouchsafed alike to all ;Reason, and, with that reason, smiles and tears; Imagination, freedom of the will,

Conscience to guide and check; and death

To be foretasted-immortality presumed.

Strange then, nor less than monstrous, might be deem'd

The failure, if the Almighty, to this point
Liberal and undistinguishing, should hide
The excellence of moral qualities

From common understanding; leaving truth
And virtue, difficult, abstruse, and dark;
Hard to be won, and only by a few :

Strange, should He deal herein with nice respects,
And frustrate all the rest! Believe it not :
The primal duties shine aloft like stars;

The charities, that soothe, and heal, and bless,
Are scatter'd at the feet of man, like flowers.
The generous inclination, the just rule,

Kind wishes, and good actions, and pure thoughts-
No mystery is here; no special boon

For high and not for low-for proudly graced
And not for meek in heart.-Wordsworth.

8. ABRAHAM. A Legend of

AT night, upon the silent plain,
Knelt Abraham and watch'd the sky;
When the bright evening star arose
He lifted up a joyful cry :

'This is the Lord! This light shall shine
To mark the path for me and mine.'
But suddenly the star's fair face

Sank down and left its darken'd place.
Then Abraham cried, in sore dismay,
'The Lord is not discover'd yet;
I cannot worship gods which set.'

Then rose the moon, full orb'd and clear,
And flooded all the plain with light,
And Abraham's heart again with joy
O'erflow'd at the transcendent sight.
'This surely is the Lord,' he cried;
'That other light was pale beside
This glorious one.' But, like the star,
The moon in the horizon far
Sank low and vanish'd. Then again
Said Abraham: This cannot be
My Lord. I am but lost, astray,
Unless one changeless guideth me.'

Then came, unheralded, the dawn,
Rosy and swift from east to west;
High rode the great triumphant sun,
And Abraham cried, "O last and best
And sovereign light! Now I believe
This Lord will change not, nor deceive.'
Each moment robb'd the day's fair grace;
The reddening sun went down apace;
And Abraham, left in rayless night,
Cried, 'O my people, let us turn

And worship now the God who rules
These lesser lights, and bids them burn!'
Helen Hunt, from the Koran.

9. ABRAHAM. The Sacrifice of

IT was noon

And Abraham on Moriah bow'd himself
And buried up his face and pray'd for strength.
He could not look upon his son, and pray;
But with his hand upon the clustering curls
Of the fair, kneeling boy he pray'd that God
Would nerve him for that hour. .

. . He rose up and laid
The wood upon the altar. All was done.
He stood a moment-and a deep, quick flash
Pass'd o'er his countenance; and then he nerved
His spirit with a bitter strength and spoke :
'Isaac ! my only son!'-The boy look'd up:
'Where is the lamb, my father?' Oh the tones,
The sweet, familiar voice of a loved child!—
What would its music seem at such an hour!
It was the last deep struggle. Abraham held
His loved, his beautiful, his only son,
And lifted up his arms and call'd on God-
And lo! God's angel stay'd him--and he fell
Upon his face and wept.

Nathaniel Parker Willis.

10. ABSENCE. Effects of

ALL flowers will droop in absence of the sun
That waked their sweets.-Dryden.

Love reckons hours for months, and days for years;
And every little absence is an age.-Dryden.

11. ABSENCE. Improvement of

WHAT shall I do with all the days and hours
That must be counted ere I see thy face?
How shall I charm the interval that lowers

Between this time and that sweet time of grace? Shall I in slumber steep each weary sense,—

Weary with longing? Shall I flee away Into past days, and with some fond pretence

Cheat myself to forget the present day?

Shall love for thee lay on my soul the sin

Of casting from me God's great gift of time? Shall I, these mists of memory lock'd within, Leave and forget life's purposes sublime?

Oh, how or by what means may I contrive

To bring the hour that brings thee back more near? How may I teach my drooping hope to live Until that blessed time, and thou art here?

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.

Art is long and Time is fleeting,

And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like muffled drums, are beating

Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,

Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!

Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act-act in the living Present!

Heart within, and God o'erhead!

Lives of great men all remind us

We can make our lives sublime, And, departing, leave behind us

Footprints on the sands of time ;Footprints, that perhaps another,

Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwreck'd brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,

Learn to labour and to wait.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

[REPLY TO LONGFELLOW'S 'PSALM OF LIFE.']

'Tis no theme for joyful numbers:
Life must be a fatal dream,
If the soul in darkness slumbers,
Christ omitted from our scheme.

Though thy work-day life be earnest, If some phantom be the goal, When thou to the dust returnest,

Second death awaits thy soul.

Though thou act that each to-morrow
Finds thee farther than to-day,
Yet it may be, man, that sorrow
Is thy destined end and way.
Tedious art and moments fleeting
Sadden not the truly brave;
Christians, at their glorious meeting,
Live and learn beyond the grave.

Rather be dumb driven cattle

Than ignore our higher life,

Rushing godless into battle, Single-handed in the strife.

Lives of good men all remind us
God can make our lives sublime :
Otherwise we leave behind us

Wrecks upon the sands of time.

Wrecks!-not trophies-mark, my brother-
Waifs too often seen in vain-
Burning beacons, which to smother
Is to earn the curse of Cain.

Men may work and wait for ever,
Toiling early, toiling late;
May be earnest, patient, clever,

And, like stoics, dare their fate.
But if here we have our portion,
If our glory we pursue,
Every scheme is an abortion,

Dry rot lurks in all we do.-7. Mackay, B.D.

25. ACTION. End of

Go, silly worm, drudge, trudge, and travel,
Despising pain, so thou may'st gain
Some honour or some golden gravel;
But death the while, to fill his number,
With sudden call takes thee from all,
To prove thy days but dream and slumber.
Joshua Sylvester.

26. ACTION. God's Favour of WHEN Thou dost favour any action, It runs, it flies;

All things concur to give it a perfection.
That which had but two legs before,

When Thou dost bless, hath twelve: one wheel doth rise

To twenty then, or more.

But when Thou dost on business blow,

It hangs, it clogs:

Not all the teams of Albion in a row
Can hale or draw it out of door.
Legs are but stumps, and Pharo's wheels but logs,
And struggling hinders more.-George Herbert.

27. ACTION. Haste to

LIFE is too short to waste
In critic peep or cynic bark,
Quarrel or reprimand:
"Twill soon be dark;

Ay mind thine own aim, and

God speed the mark !-R. W. Emerson.