THE GARLAND.

Otago Witness, Issue 3672, 29 July 1924, Page 63

THE GARLAND.

FOR THE QUIET HOUR. No. b7O. By Duncan Wrigiit, Dunedin. A HIGHLANDERS PRAYER. “O God, oor souls are jist as dry as the heather on a hillside ; oor hurts are as hard as the granite stane: but Thou that gi’est the draps o’ dew to the heather, gie us tho drappins o’ Thy grace this day. and let Thy ain love liclit upon oor hard hurts like the birdie siltin’ singin’ on tho rock yonner; an’ fill tlie souls o’ Thy fowk this day wi’ peace and joy, till they're rinnin’ o’er like the water-spout on the brae. Lord, it’ll be nae loss to You, an’ it’ll be a grand bargain for us, an’ we’ll mind Ye on’t tae tl' eternity. Amen.”—From “The Life of Duncan Matliieson.” FRAGMENTS. There are some who have found the King's palace, though they only walk before it, and do not see Ilis royal presence. Some there are who sit in the garden, and have glimpses as He passes to and fro within. Some there arc who stand upon the threshold and behold His comely presence, and yet do not go in. Some there are who stand within, and yet as servants. Some there are who are admitted to His presence, and hear Him say: Henceforth I call you not servants, but friends. And some there arc w'lio abide with Him, and He knoweth them. Thrice blessed are they. Oh. that we were of their number 1 Oh that we were within, and always within, and always always hearing Tb.ee, and seeing Thee, and loving Thee, and rejoicing in Thee, and rejoiced over! for what can hurt those who arc surrounded by thine arms? What can pierce them, or reach to disturb their settled peace? All the earth might weep, but they are lifted in Thy Divine strength above sorrow. Yea, in sorrow is sweetness to them. They learn to suffer with rejoicings. How precious are the revelations of thyself to those who have the secret of < Jod 1 It is a good and safe rule to sojourn in every place as if you meant to spend your life there, never omitting an opportunity of doing a kindness, or speaking a true word, or making a friend. Seeds thus sown by the wayside often bring forth an abundant harvest. You might so spend your summer among the people, that they and their descendants should be better and happier, through time and eternity, for your works and your example. From the atmosphere, healthy and bright, which surrounds parents and families settle upon children and upon other families the graces of a polite and Christian exterior. Courtesies and good manners are of delicate essence, and they go much in the air. Civility is catching. The boy, I)s' seeing it done, learns to uncover liis bead, to say Please and Thank you. “The LORD HIMSELF.” (1 Thess. 4: 16.) The verses given below come from the pen of a confirmed invalid. They express the heart-longings of one who has learned what it is to rest in the Lord. “The Lord Himself shall descend”— On whom earth and heaven depend, YVlio hath noi beginning nor end— The Lord Himself. “The Lord Himself shall descend”— My Jesus, the strong to defend, Whose love from my heart- none can rend— The Lord Himself. “The Lord Himself shall descend” — No angel on earth for me hend, But He in whom God-and-man blend— The Lord Himself. “The Lord Himself shall descend”— Once more we shall meet each dear friend, To Him our glad way we shall wend— The Lord Himself. —Lilian Edwards. TRIBUTE TO A MOTHER. THE OLD HYMNS. An American writer, Rev. Theron Lee, in a tender tribute to liis mother, says:— Heart and mind and pen almost fail me in essaying the task of giving a fitting tribute to my dear Christian mother, whom to meet again in glory is one of the most precious promises the heavenly life holds out to me. How sacredly I cherish tlie memory of Sabbath evenings, long ago, in the sittingroom of the old parsonage, when father had gone to Church, and wo were left alone with mother, my baby brother and I. She would take me on her lap, and rock me in her arms, my heart reposing on hers in perfect comfort and safety, while she sang songs that will always be precious to me. One sweetly solemn thought Comes to me o’er and o’er; I’m nearer home to-day, to-day, Than e’er I’ve been before. We would see Jesus —for the shadow's lengthen Across this little landscape of our life! Jesus, Lover of my soul, Let me to Thy bosom fly. Rescue the perishing, care for the dying, Snatch them in pity from sin and the grave. Jesus, Saviour, pilot me Over life’s tempestuous sea. As a mother stills her child. Thou canst hush the ocean wild. Rock of Ages, cleft for me, Let. me hide myself in Thee. In the eweet by-and-by. What a friend we have in Jesus! As the shadows grew darker and darker, and the Church bells began tolling