THE GARLAND.

Otago Witness, Issue 3495, 8 March 1921, Page 52

THE GARLAND.

FOR THE QUIET HOUR. No. 393.

By

Duncan Wright, Dunedin.

In spite of sickness-,, sorrow, and sadness if were well to say bravely and to aing quietly : For every leaf the loveliest Sower 'Which be auty ftigiis for from tor bower; For every star a drop of dew; For every 31m r, sky of blue; For every heart a heart aa trae. Fat every tear by pity shed T/pcn a fellow-sufferer's tread, Oil bo a orown of glory given ; Sock crowris as saints to gain have striven, Such crowns as seraphs wear in heaven. For all who toll at honest fame, A. proud, a pure, a deathless name; For ail wbo love, who loving bless, Bo Hie one ion e, kind, close caress; Ba life all iove, all happiness! Obedience is the organ of spiritual knowledge. It is difficult for xnen to learn that fast living is mow dying. Sin ;s such a subtle poison that it deludes while it- destroys. The heart should be praying a good while before the tongue. Flattery is praise insincerely given for an interested purpose. You can give without loving, but you cannot love without giving. Love never asks how much must I do, but how much can I do. It is not what we take up, but what we give up, that makes us rich. No situation is hopeless until you have given time a chance to work. It is better to have a bank in heaven than to have your heaven in a bank. Prayer without study is presumption, and study without prayer is infidelity. Motive has to come from within,' not from without, if it is to be worth anything. Opinions are not necessarily truths anymore than botanical propositions are trees. The love principle of practical Christianity is obedience to Jesus Christ. The effort to express more than we feel eventually destroys what feeling we have.

Endurance is the crowning quality And Patience all the passion of great hearts. If the first note for to-day be struck on a key too high, then flatten it slightly and try another. How would the following suit you? TWO—YET ONE. (By Carrie A. Breese.) Of two things only life is made; Ail else, when in the balance laid, As finest dust is lightly weighed. Love, lowly, sacred, mighty Love, Of which all human good ?s wove, Essential life of life above: And Sorrow, masterful end strong, For ever as it sweeps along Changing to dirge earth’s gayest song. Together, hand in hand they go, From spring’s first blush to winter's snow, From “dust to dust” ends all below. Yet both are God’s; when life is done, And heaven’s eternal beauty won, The two shall be resolved' in one— Sorrow not lost, but hidden quite, In the refined and perfect sight, Of Love triumphant, full delight! If both notes be too high, in spite of trials, fears, and tossing on the troubled sea of life, try yet another soothing sons: by * “ ANNA F. BURNHAM. The night is dark; tire winds are out ; The stars are drowned in waves of doubt; Yet, Lord, upon the heaving sea, My spirit fam would come to Thee. If taint, of Peter’s boastfulness Hast mingled with my soul’s distress, Thine arm, vnshortened!, still can save The sinking soul from whelming wave. Thy name is Pity; Thou wilt hear ; My need will draw Thee quickly near; Thy very pierced hand to me Outstretched, that I may come to Thee. “Save, Lord!” It is the ages’ prayer, Such trust is born of self-despair. From what a gulf of what a sea— It counts not, so I come to Thee. A great deal of modern preaching fails of all spiritual result because it is passionless. Hundreds of men in the pulpits of our land preach, and preach well, but nothing happens; and in view of the seriousness of -the religious and moral situation everywhere evident, we are constrained to ask, Why ? Many reasons might be adduced with more or less justification. The chief of them all is lack

of Evangelical passion. For it is all-in-clusive. The preacher who lacks it is altogether out of place in a Christian pulpit. The congregations who suffer it are to be pitied for the wrong done tc them and to their children. The Church which loves to have it so is in peril oi having its candle-sticks removed from its piace.—London Christian. But in the very darkest night when the winds are whistling round us with hurricane force forget not —no never—the voice of the Master when He says ; “Be of good cheer! It is I, be not afraid.” THE PLACE OF THE BIBLE. The increasing references in the public Press to the value of the Bible for human life are too conspicuous to be attributed to a mere passing fancy. It is evident that some very clever writers are set upon trying to make the British public think about things a little more deeply than they are accustomed to do. We wel come the sign with much pleasure. it mav Sfiem ungenerous to criticise, i’oi example, such a fine article as that which appeared in The Times a few days ago, on the Four Gospels. But the writer woulc have been every bit as convincing had he not conceded quite so much to the modem spirit which finds in the miracles of oui Lord a “distraction” —the writer himsell does not appear to hold tins view. Places in their proper setting, the miracles, sc far from offering a “distraction,” make the harmony complete. It is a fine thing however, to find in a newspaper like The Times so great a testimony rendered tc the Person of our Lord, and in such £ way as to compel attention, and evei assent. It is to be hoped that the day fi past, when it is considered to be necessary in the public Press, to be silent about the vital things of our Holy Faith, or tc write of them apologetically. The Rationalist may write any puerility with out offence. The Christian litterateur with better reason, should not scruple to set forth his faith under a form whicl must command respect, if nothing else. LOOK. UP, LONDON! (From “The Life of Faith.”) Above the throbbing of the city’s heart, Above the busy workers in its mart, Above it, all, yet of it all, a part, Behold—-the Cross.!

; Above the maelstrom of the human throng, j Above the right—and, yes, above the wrong, I Above the weak, the striving, and the strong, I Behold-—the Cross! ! Above us see aloft the wondrous sign! ; The golden symbol o’er a great saint's shrine, I The grea-.e.st fact in history—in time, | The Saviour’s Cross! ! — G. E. G. j “For the Lord is good; His mercy is everlasting; and His truth endureth to all i generations.”—Psalm c: 5. j God’s mercies are fresh with everlasting ; youth. The stars never wear out : they ! are just as good to-day as when Abraham saw them directing the Oriental people by night. The sun is not weauy from ; the number of years : there are no wrinkles ; on its brow. The urns of God are re- ! plenished by outpouring, and they increase their fulness by that which they yield. And God’s promises are of the nature of His laws. The heaven and earth shall pass away, but not one jot or tittle of God’s Word shall change and pass away. ' For thousands of years men have found ’ His promises to be staffs on their journey ; armour for defence; sword and spear for battle. Not one promise has ever been I unfulfilled. Though those promises c|f God are almost without number —prodigal, luxuriant —they have never been broken, and the Word of the Lord standeth sure to this hour. There is not a witness in God’s universe to-day that can testify that he has leaned on a promise of God, and that God forgot to be gracious to him. Of all the martyrs, of all the heroes, of ! all the men that have suffered for moral ; principle in this world, not one shall ever be found that can stand before God, and say, “Thou didst forget.” There is no such faithfulness, there is no such prompt- : ness, there is no such punctuality anywhere else as there is in the bosom of the Almighty. I CAN, AND I WILL. I can, and I will — Though the road) be uphill, And I may have to pause On my way up the hill. Yet if others have made it I can, and I will. I can, and I will— Though at first the long hm Seema to grow, as I go, With each step up the hill. Still, if others have made it, I can, and I will. I can, and I will — Blase my way up the hill, What though thorn-brush and brier Blook my way up the hill. What others have done, sir, I can, and I will. I can, and I will— See the lights on the hill. There are beautiful sunsets, Where clouds meet the hill. If others have seen them, I can, and I will. I can, and I will — G ive a lift up the hill To the chap who seems skidding Right back down the hill, And together we’ll make it— We can, and we will. —ldeLla Campbell Betts.