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28. ACTION. Life in

30. ACTION.

Quality of

Festus. The value of a thought cannot be told; REDEEM we time-its loss we dearly buy.

But it is clearly worth a thousand lives,

Like many men's. And yet men love to live,
As if mere life were worth their living for.
What but perdition will it be to most?

No blank, no trifle, nature made or meant.
Virtue, or purposed virtue, still be thine:
This cancels thy complaint at once; this leaves
In act no trifle, and no blank in time.

Life's more than breath and the quick round of blood. This greatens, fills, immortalizes all;
It is a great spirit and a busy heart.

The coward and the small in soul scarce do live.
One generous feeling-one great thought-one deed
Of good, ere night, would make life longer seem
Than if each year might number a thousand days-
Spent as is this by nations of mankind.

This, the bless'd art of turning all to gold;
This, the good heart's prerogative, to raise
A royal tribute from the poorest hours:
Immense revenue! every moment pays.
If nothing more than purpose is thy power,
Thy purpose firm is equal to the deed;

We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths; Who does the best his circumstance allows
In feelings, not in figures on a dial.

We should count time by heart-throbs. He most
lives

Who thinks most,-feels the noblest,-acts the best.

Does well, acts nobly; angels could no more.

Young.

31. ACTION. Record of

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HEART gazing mournfully
Back through past years—

Bringing sad memories,

Laden with tears

Life's hours wasted,

Talents abused,

Bright opportunities
Blindly refused-
Close up the record
Fraught with such pain;
Years that have vanish'd

Return not again.
Grasp thou the Present,
Be earnest and bold-

Fleeting its moments,

More precious than gold.

Watch and fight bravely
Against sloth and sin;
Pray for the Spirit,

The victory to win.
Cometh the future

Veiled and slow?
Go forth to greet her,

For weal or for woe.
Bringeth she gladness?

Praise thou the Lord.
Bringeth she sadness?

Bow to His word.
O'er Past and o'er Future
Dim shadows recline.
Heart, be thou manful;
The Present is thine!

THOUGH history, on her faded scrolls,
Fragments of facts and wrecks of names enrolls,
Time's indefatigable finger writes
Men's meanest actions on their souls,

In lines which not himself can blot :
These the last day shall bring to light,
Though through long centuries forgot,
When hearts and sepulchres are bared to sight.
Ah! then shall each of Adam's race,

In that concentred instant, trace,

Upon the tablet of his mind,

His whole existence in a thought combined,
Thenceforth to part no more, but be
Impictured on his memory;
-As in the image-chamber of the eye,
Seen at a glance, in clear perspective, lie
Myriads of forms of ocean, earth, and sky.
James Montgomery.

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There's room here for the weakest man alive
To live and die,—there's room too, I repeat,
For all the strongest to live well and strive,
Their own way, by their individual heat,
Like a new bee-swarm leaving the old hive,
Despite the wax which tempts so violet-sweet.
Then let the living live, the dead retain
Their grave-cold flowers! through honour's best sup-
plied,

By bringing actions to prove theirs not vain.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning.
34. ACTIONS. Good
GOOD actions crown themselves with lasting bays,
Who deserves well needs not another's praise.

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Balm wouldst thou gather for corroding grief?
Pour blessings round thee like a shower of gold.
'Tis when the rose is wrapt in many a fold,
Close to its heart, the worm is wasting there
Its life and beauty; not when, all unroll'd,
Leaf after leaf, its bosom, rich and fair,
Breathes freely its perfumes throughout the ambient
air.

Wake, thou that sleepest in enchanted bowers,
Lest these lost years should haunt thee on the night
When death is waiting for thy number'd hours
To take their swift and everlasting flight;
Wake ere the earth-born charm unnerve thee quite,
And be thy thoughts to work divine address'd :
Do something-do it soon-with all thy might;
An angel's wing would droop if long at rest,
And God himself, inactive, were no longer blest.
Some high or humble enterprise of good
Contemplate till it shall possess thy mind,
Become thy study, pastime, rest, and food,
And kindle in thy heart a flame refined.
Pray Heaven for firmness thy whole soul to bind
To this thy purpose-to begin, pursue,
With thoughts all fix'd and feelings purely kind;
Strength to complete, and with delight review,
And grace to give the praise where all is ever due.
Rouse to some work of high and holy love,
And thou an angel's happiness shalt know,
Shalt bless the earth while in the world above:
The good begun by thee shall onward flow
In many a branching stream, and wider grow;
The seed that, in these few and fleeting hours,
Thy hands unsparing and unwearied sow,
Shall deck thy grave with amaranthine flowers,
And yield thee fruits divine in heaven's immortal
bowers.-Carlos Wilcox.

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Make haste, O man, to do

Whatever must be done;
Thou hast no time to lose in sloth,
Thy day will soon be gone.

Up then with speed, and work;
Fling ease and self away;
This is no time for thee to sleep,

Up, watch, and work, and pray!

The useful, not the great,

The thing that never dies; The silent toil that is not lost,Set these before thine eyes.

The seed, whose leaf and flower,

Though poor in human sight, Brings forth at last the eternal fruit,

Sow thou by day and night.

Make haste, O man, to live,
Thy time is almost o'er :

O sleep not, dream not, but arise,

The Judge is at the door.

Make haste, O man, to live!
Horatius Bonar.

43. ACTIVITY: its necessity.

LET'S take the instant by the forward top;
For we are old, and on our quick'st decrees,
The inaudible and noiseless foot of time
Steals, ere we can effect them.-Shakespeare.

Take the instant way;
For honour travels in a strait so narrow,
Where one but goes abreast: keep then the path:
For emulation hath a thousand sons,
That one by one pursue: if you give way,
Or edge aside from the direct forthright,
Like to an enter'd tide, they all rush by,
And leave you hindmost.-Shakespeare.

44 ACTIVITY. Mental

THERE is a fire-fly in the southern clime
Which shineth only when upon the wing;
So it is with the mind: when once we rest,
We darken. On! said God unto the soul
As to the earth, for ever.
On it goes,
A rejoicing native of the infinite—
As a bird of air-an orb of heaven.

Philip James Bailey.

45. ACTIVITY: must not be excessive.
RUN if you like, but try to keep your breath ;
Work like a man, but don't be work'd to death.
O. W. Holmes.

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Two of far nobler shape, erect and tall,
Godlike erect, with native honour clad
In naked majesty, seem'd lords of all,
And worthy seem'd: for in their looks divine,
The image of their glorious Maker, shone
Truth, wisdom, sanctitude severe and pure
(Severe, but in true filial freedom placed),
Whence true authority in men; though both
Not equal, as their sex not equal seem'd :
For contemplation he, and valour form'd ;
For softness she, and sweet attractive grace;
He for God only, she for God in him :
His fair large front and eye sublime declared
Absolute rule.

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49. ADAM AND EVE. Transgression of
WITH fatal and disastrous ease
Lifting her hand into the clustering boughs,
She touch'd, she took, she tasted. One small taste
Sufficed. Her eyes were open'd; and she seem'd,
The moorings cut which bound her to the shore,
Launch'd on an ocean of delights. Alas,
Perfidious sea, on which the fairest bark
E'er floated suffer'd foulest wrong and wreck !
Awhile as in a dream she stood, but soon
Her scatter'd thoughts recall'd, and from the boughs
Selecting one loaden with luscious fruit,

She pluck'd it bower'd in leaves, and took her way
To seek her absent lord. Him soon she met
Returning with no laggard steps; for when
The serpent slid with such strange haste away
The loitering minutes hours appear'd, and then
A strange solicitude unknown before
Began to creep around his boding heart,
And he retraced his path. But when he saw

Eve with flush'd cheek and agitated mien
Advancing, in her hand that fatal branch,
His heart sank, and his lip quiver'd. And when
She told her tale, the serpent's honey'd words,
Her brief refusal, his repeated suit,

Her answer, his reply, her touch, her taste,
Then first upon the virgin soil of earth

Fell human tears, presage of myriad showers.
But when again with pleading eye and hand,
Silent but most persuasive eloquence,

She pray'd him share with her the fruit she bore
Then Adam wail'd aloud:

'O Eve, my wife,

Heaven's last, Heaven's dearest gift, what hast thou done?

Me miserable! Thou hast undone thyself,
Thyself and me; for if thou diest I die,
Bone of my bone, flesh of my very flesh,—
Eve, in whose veins my heart's best juices flow.
What can I do, what suffer for thee? Say
I rigorously refuse this fatal fruit,
What, shall I see thy warm and gentle limbs
Stiffen in death, and live myself? How live?
Alone? Or peradventure God will take
Another rib, and form another Eve?
Nay, we are one. My heart, myself am thine.
Our Maker made us one. Shall I unmake
His union? and transfer from heart to heart
My very life? Far higher I deem of love,
No transferable perishable thing,
But flowing from its secret fountain, God,
Like God immortal and immutable.
But oh, what follows? Adam, be thou sure
Of thy inflexible resolve-death, death:
Both cannot live, and therefore both must die.'
So saying, from her hand he took and ate,
Not circumvented by the serpent's fraud,
But blindly overcome by human love,

Love's semblance, which belied its name, denying
The Great Creator for the creature's sake.

Edward Henry Bickersteth.

50. ADAPTATION. Utility of

A SMITH at the loom and a weaver at the forge were but sorry craftsmen :

And a ship that saileth on every wind never shall

reach her port;

Yet there be thousands among men who heed not the leaning of their talents,

But, cutting against the grain, toil on to no good

end;

And the light of a thoughtful spirit is quenched beneath the bushel of commerce,

While meaner plodding minds are driven up the mountain of philosophy;

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O sight of strange surprise

That fills our gazing eyes!

A manger coldly strew'd,

And swaddling-bands so rude,

A leaning mother poor, and child that helpless lies.

Art Thou, O wondrous sight,

Of lights the very Light,

Who holdest in Thy hand

The sky and sea and land,—

55. ADVENT, THE SECOND: importance of preparation for it.

BEHOLD, the Bridegroom cometh in the middle of the night,

And blest is he whose loins are girt, whose lamp is burning bright;

But woe to that dull servant whom the Master shall surprise

Who than the glorious heavens art more exceeding With lamp untrimm'd, unburning, and with slumber

bright?

'Tis so: Faith darts before,

And, through the cloud drawn o'er,
She sees the God of all,

Where angels prostrate fall,

Adoring, tremble still, and trembling still adore.

Within us, babe Divine,

Be born, and make us Thine;

Within our souls reveal

Thy love and power to heal;

in his eyes!

Do thou, my soul, beware, beware, lest thou in sleep sink down,

Lest thou be given o'er to death, and lose the golden

crown ;

But see that thou be sober, with watchful eyes, and

thus

Cry 'Holy, holy, holy God, have mercy upon us!'

That day, the day of fear, shall come: my soul, slack not thy toil,

Be born, and make our hearts Thy cradle and Thy But light thy lamp, and feed it well, and make it

shrine.-Isaac Williams.

54. ADVENT, THE SECOND: its approach.

O'ER the distant mountains breaking
Comes the redd'ning dawn of day,
Rise, my soul, from sleep awaking,
Rise and sing, and watch and pray :
'Tis thy Saviour

On His bright returning way.
O Thou long-expected! weary
Waits mine anxious soul for Thee,
Life is dark and earth is dreary
Where Thy light I do not see;
O my Saviour!

When wilt Thou return to me?
Long, too long, in sin and sadness,

Far away from Thee I pine, When, O when, shall I the gladness Of Thy Spirit feel in mine?

O my Saviour!

When shall I be wholly Thine?
Nearer is my soul's salvation,
Spent the night, the day at hand;
Keep me in my lowly station,
Watching for Thee, till I stand,
O my Saviour!

In Thy bright and promised land.
With my lamp well trimm'd and burning,
Swift to hear, and slow to roam,
Watching for Thy glad returning
To restore me to my home,

Come, my Saviour!

my Saviour, quickly come !

bright with oil;

Who knowest not how soon may sound the cry at eventide,

'Behold, the Bridegroom comes! Arise! Go forth to meet the Bride.'

Beware, my soul; beware, beware, lest thou in slumber lie,

And, like the five, remain without, and knock and vainly cry;

But watch, and bear thy lamp undimm'd, and Christ

shall gird thee on

His own bright wedding-robe of light,-the glory of the Son.-Tr. from the Greek by G. Moultrie.

56. ADVENT, THE SECOND: its nearness.
BRIDE of the Lamb, awake! awake!
Why sleep for sorrow now?
The hope of glory, Christ, is thine,
A child of glory thou.

Thy spirit, through the lonely night,
From earthly joy apart,
Hath sigh'd for one that's far away,

The Bridegroom of thy heart.
But see! the night is waning fast,
The breaking morn is near;
And Jesus comes, with voice of love,
Thy drooping heart to cheer.

He comes-for oh! His yearning heart
No more can bear delay-

To scenes of full, unmingled joy,

To call His bride away.

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