Of mere imagination, differ partly
From melancholy; which is briefly this:
A mere commotion of the mind, o'ercharged
With fear and sorrow; first begat i' th' brain,
The seat of reason, and from thence, derived
As suddenly into the heart, the seat
Of our affection.-Ford.

1145. EXTRAVAGANCE.

THE man who builds and wants wherewith to pay,
Provides a home from which to run away.-Young.
Mansions once

Knew their own masters, and laborious hinds,
That had survived the father, served the son.
Now the legitimate and rightful lord
Is but a transient guest, newly arrived,
And soon to be supplanted. He that saw
His patrimonial timber cast its leaf,

Sells the last scantling, and transfers the price
To some shrewd sharper ere it buds again.
Estates are landscapes, gazed upon awhile,
Then advertised and auctioneer'd away.-Cowper.

IT is so little, and so poorly done,

This work of mine, yet now the evening sun
Is low out in the west,

And I must give a truthful record in,
Of all I strove to gain, and fail'd to win,
Ere I may ask for rest.

I had so many dreams when first the light
Broke in the waiting east, and now 'tis night,
Still they are dreams unwrought;

I would have made them deeds, all strong and true,
But I grew tired, and the hours were few,

So they remain but thought.

THE child leans on its parent's breast,
Leaves there its cares and is at rest;
The bird sits singing by his nest,
And tells aloud

His trust in God, and so is blest

'Neath every cloud.

He has no store, he sows no seed;
Yet sings aloud, and doth not heed;
By flowing stream or grassy mead,
He sings to shame
Men, who forget, in fear of need,
A Father's name.
The heart that trusts for ever sings,
And feels as light as it had wings;
A well of peace within it springs;
Come good or ill,
Whate'er to-day, to-morrow brings,
It is His will.

1158. FAITH. Clew of

HALLELUJAH! I believe!

Isaac Williams.

Now the giddy world stands fast, Now my soul has found an anchor Till the night of storm is past. All the gloomy mists are rising,

And the clew is in my hand, Through earth's labyrinth to guide me To a bright and heavenly land.

Hallelujah! I believe !

Sorrow's bitterness is o'er,
And affliction's heavy burden
Weighs my spirit down no more.
On the cross the mystic writing
Now reveal'd before me lies,
And I read the words of comfort,
'As a father, I chastise.'

Hallelujah! I believe !

Now no longer on my soul All the debt of sin is lying:

One great Friend has paid the whole ! Ice-bound fields of legal labour

I have left with all their toil, While the fruits of love are growing From a new and genial soil.

Hallelujah! I believe!

Now life's mystery is gone: Gladly through its fleeting shadows To the end I journey on.

Through the tempest or the sunshine,
Over flowers or ruins led,
Still the path is homeward hasting,
Where all sorrow shall have fled.

Hallelujah! I believe !

Now, O Love! I know Thy power
Thine no false or fragile fetters,
Not the rose-wreaths of an hour!
Christian bonds of holy union

Death itself does not destroy;
Yes, to live and love for ever,
Is our heritage of joy !—Mowes.

HEAR, then, what faith, True, Christian faith, which brought salvation, was Belief in all that God reveal'd to men : Observe-in all that God reveal'd to men ; In all He promised, threaten'd, commanded, said, Without exception, and without a doubt. Who thus believed, being by the Spirit touch'd, As naturally the fruits of faith produced— Truth, temperance, meekness, holiness, and loveAs human eye from darkness sought the light. How could he else? If he who had firm faith The morrow's sun should rise, order'd affairs Accordingly; if he who had firm faith That spring, and summer, and autumnal days Should pass away, and winter really come, Prepared accordingly; if he who saw A bolt of death approaching, turn'd aside And let it pass; as surely did the man Who verily believed the word of God, Though erring whiles, its general laws obey, Turn back from hell, and take the way to heaven. Pollok.

1160. FAITH. Consolation of

BELOVED, it is well :

God's ways are always right; And love is o'er them all, Though far above our sight.

Beloved, it is well :

Though deep and sore the smart, He wounds, who knows and cares To heal the broken heart.

Beloved, it is well :

Though grief benight our way, 'Twill make the joy more dear

That comes with dawning day.

Beloved, it is well :

The path that Jesus trod, Though rough and dark it be,

Leads home to heaven and God.

1161. FAITH. Co-operating with

Lo! when the boatman stems the flowing tide,
And aims direct his little boat to guide;
With both oars working he can headway make,
And leave the waters foaming in his wake;
But if one oar within the boat he lays,
In useless circles round and round he plays.
So faith and works, when both together brought,
With mighty power and heavenly life are fraught,
To help the Christian on his arduous road,
And urge him forward on his way to God :
If faith or works, no matter which, he drops,
Short of his journey's end he surely stops.-Holmes.

Of ether, where the day is never veil'd
With intervening vapours; and looks down
Serene upon the troublous sea that hides

The earth's fair breast, that sea whose nether face
To grovelling mortals frowns and darkens all;
But on whose billowy back, from man conceal'd,
The glaring sunbeam plays.-Henry Kirke White.

1165. FAITH: essential to happiness.

IF forced from faith, for ever miserable:
For what is misery but want of God?
And God is lost if faith be overthrown.
Soliman and Perseda.

1166. FAITH. Gift of

O FAITH, thou workest miracles
Upon the hearts of men,
Choosing thy home in those same hearts
We know not how or when.

O gift of gifts! O grace of faith!
My God! how can it be
That Thou, who hast discerning love,
Shouldst give that gift to me?

There was a place, there was a time,

Whither by night or day,

Thy Spirit came and left that gift,
And went upon His way.

How many hearts Thou mightst have had
More innocent than mine!

How many souls more worthy far

Of that sweet touch of Thine!

Ah, grace! unto unlikeliest hearts

It is Thy boast to come, The glory of Thy light to find

In darkest spots a home.

How will they die, how will they die,
How bear the cross of grief,
Who have not got the light of faith,

The courage of belief?

The crowd of cares, the weightiest cross,
Seem trifles less than light,
Earth looks so little and so low,

When faith shines full and bright.

O happy, happy that I am!

If thou canst be, O faith!
The treasure that thou art in life,
What wilt thou be in death?

F. W. Faber.

1167. FAITH. Growth of

FROM purer manners to sublimer faith Is nature's unavoidable ascent;

1171. FAITH. Lesson of

TAULER, the preacher, walk'd, one autumn day, Without the walls of Strasburg, by the Rhine, Pondering the solemn miracle of life;

As one who, wandering in a starless night,
Feels, momently, the jar of unseen waves,
And hears the thunder of an unknown sea,
Breaking along an unimagined shore.

And as he walk'd he pray'd. Even the same Old prayer with which, for half a score of years, Morning, and noon, and evening, lip and heart Had groan'd: Have pity upon me, Lord! Thou seest, while teaching others, I am blindSend me a man who can direct my steps!'

Then, as he mused, he heard along his path
A sound as of an old man's staff among
The dry, dead linden leaves; and looking up,
He saw a stranger, weak, and poor, and old.

'Peace be unto thee, father!' Tauler said; 'God give thee a good day!' The old man raised

rhymes

Gladly engrave Thy love on steel,

If what my soul doth feel sometimes,

My soul might ever feel!

Although there were some fourtie heavens, or more,
Sometimes I peere above them all ;
Sometimes I hardly reach a score,

Sometimes to hell I fall.

O rack me not to such a vast extent !
Those distances belong to Thee :
The world's too little for Thy tent,
A grave too big for me.

Wilt Thou meet arms with man, that Thou dost stretch

A crumme of dust from heaven to hell?
Will great God measure such a wretch?
Shall he Thy stature spell?

O let me, when Thy roof my soul hath hid,
O let me roost and nestle there!

Then of a sinner Thou art rid,

And I of hope and fear.

Yet take Thy way; for sure Thy way is best:
Stretch or contract me, Thy poore debtor;
This is but tuning of my breast,

To make the musick better.

Whether I flie with angels, fall with dust,
Thy hands made both, and I am there;

Thy power and love, my love and trust,

Make one place everywhere.-George Herbert.

But all my days are good, and none are ill.'

Wondering thereat, the preacher spake again, 'God give thee happy life!' The old man smiled, 'I never am unhappy.'

Tauler laid

His hand upon the stranger's coarse, grey sleeve:
'Tell me, O father, what thy strange words mean.
Surely man's days are evil, and His life
Sad as the grave it leads to.' 'Nay, my son,
Our times are in God's hands, and all our days
Are as our needs: for shadow as for sun,
For cold as heat, for want as wealth, alike
Our thanks are due, since that is best which is :
And that which is not, sharing not His life,
Is evil only as devoid of good.

And for the happiness of which I spake,

I find it in submission to His will,

And calm trust in the holy Trinity

Of Knowledge, Goodness, and Almighty power.'

Silently wondering for a little space,

Stood the great preacher; then he spake as one Who, suddenly grappling with a haunting thought Which long has follow'd whispering through the dark,

Strange terrors, drags it shrieking, into light:
'What if God's will consign thee hence to Hell?'

'Then,' said the stranger, cheerily, be it so.
What Hell may be, I know not; this I know:
I cannot lose the presence of the Lord;
One arm, Humility, takes hold upon