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All other passions have their hour of thinking,
And hear the voice of reason. This alone
Breaks at the first suspicion into phrenzy,
And sweeps the soul in tempests. - Francis.

With hateful thoughts to languish and to pine
And feed itself with self-consuming smart :
Of all the passions in the mind thou vilest art.

Wrath is a fire, and jealousy a weed;
The sparks soon quench, the springing weed out-
weed. -Spenser.

Trifles, light as air,
Are to the jealous confirmations strong

As proofs of Holy Writ. --Shakespeare.
When this disease of jealousy can find
A way to seize upon a crazy mind,
Most things, instead of help, or giving ease,
The humour feed, and turn to the disease.


All jealousy
Must still be strangled in its birth ; or time
Will soon conspire to make it strong enough
To overcome the truth.-Davenant.

Jealousy ! thou merciless destroyer,
More cruel than the grave! what ravages
Does thy wild war make in the noblest bosoms!

Mallet. Among the sons of men how few are known Who dare be just to merit not their own! Superior virtue and superior sense To knaves and fools will always give offence. Nay, men of real worth can scarcely bear, So nice is jealousy, a rival there. – Churchill.

It is Jealousy's peculiar nature To swell small things to great ; nay, out of nought To conjure much ; and then to lose its reason Amid the hideous phantoms it has form’d.- Young.

2061. JERUSALEM. Desolate Is this thy place, sad city, this thy throne ? Where the lone desert rears the craggy stone, Where suns unblest their angry lustre fling, And wayworn pilgrims seek the scanty spring ? Where now thy pomp, which kings with envy

view'd ? Where now thy power, which all those kings sub

dued ? No martial myriads muster in thy gates No suppliant nation at thy temple waits, No prophet bard, thy glittering courts among, Wakes the full lyre, and swells the tide of song; But lawless force and meagre want is there, And the quick-darting eye of restless fear; While cold Oblivion, ʼmid the ruins laid, Hides his dark wing beneath the ivy shade.- Heber.

2062. JERUSALEM. Modern

The strength, Jerusalem, is o'er,

And broken are thy walls ;
The harp of Israel sounds no more

In thy deserted halls :
But where thy Kings and Prophets trod,

Triumphant over death
Behold the living Soul of God -

The Christ of Nazareth !

Jealousy, saidst thou? I disdain it :--no-
Distrust is poor, and a misplaced suspicion
Invites, and justifies the falsehood fear'd.-Hill.

But through the heart Should jealousy its venom once diffuse, 'Tis then delightful misery no more, But agony unmix'd, incessant gall, Corroding every thought, and blasting all Love's paradise. Ye fairy prospects, then, Ye beds of roses, and ye bowers of joy, Farewell ! ye gleamings of departed peace, Shine out your last! the yellow-tinging plague Internal vision taints, and in a night

Of livid gloom imagination wraps. - Thomson. In gentle love the sweetest joys we find – Yet even those joys, dire jealousy molests, And blackens each fair image in our breasts.


The halo of His presence fills

Thy courts, thy ways of men ;
His footsteps on the holy hills

Are beautiful as then ;
The prayer, whose bloody sweat betray'd

His human agony,
Still haunts the awful olive shade

Of old Gethsemane.
Woe unto thee, Jerusalem !

Slayer of Prophets, thou
That in thy fury stonest them

God sent and sends thee now : Where Thou, O Christ! with anguish spent,

Forgave Thy foes, and died,
Thy garments yet are daily rent,

Thy soul is crucified !
They darken with the Christian name

The light that from Thee beam'd,
And by the hatred they proclaim

Thy Spirit is blasphemed ;

Unto Thine ear the prayers they send

Were fit for Belial's reign, And Moslem cimeters defend

The temple they profane.

To save thee from the hovering eagle's power,
And shield the unequall'd misery of this hour !
But no! thou would'st not ! thence this signal fate!
Thence art thou fall’n! deserted ! desolate!

Gibson. 2064. JESTING.

Who shall rebuild Jerusalem ?

Her scatter'd children bring From earth's far ends, and gather them

Beneath her sheltering wing? For Judah's sceptre broken lies,

And from his kingly stem No new Messiah shall arise

For lost Jerusalem!

LAUGH not too much ; the witty man laughs least :

For wit is news only to ignorance :
Less at thine own things laugh; lest in the jest

Thy person share, and the conceit advance.
Make not thy sport abuses : for the fly
That feeds on dung, is coloured thereby.
Pick from thy mirth, like stones out of the ground,

Profaneness, filthiness, abusiveness : These are the scum with which coarse wits abound:

The fine may spare this well, yet not go less. All things are big with jest : nothing that's plain, But may be witty, if thou hast the vein.- Herbert.

But let the wild ass on her hills

Its foal unfrighted lead,
And by the source of Kedron's rills

The desert adder breed :
For where the love of Christ has made

Its mansion in the heart,
He builds in pomp that will not fade

Her heavenly counterpart.-Bayard Taylor.

A jest's prosperity lies in the ear
Of him that hears it, never in the tongue
Of him that makes it. --Shakespeare.

2063. JERUSALEM : rebellious and ruined.

The signs are full, and never shall the sun
Shine on the cedar roofs of Salem more;

Her tale of splendour now is done ;
Her wine-cup of festivity is spilt,
And all is o'er-her grandeur and her guilt.

Oh, fair and favour'd city, where of old,
The balmy airs were rich with melody,
That led her pomp beneath the cloudless sky

In vestments flaming with the orient gold;
Her gold is dim, and mute her music's voice,
The heathen o'er her perish'd pomp rejoice !

How stately then was every palm-deck'd street

Down which the maidens danced with tinkling feet! How proud the elders in the lofty gate!

How crowded all her nation's solemn feasts

With white-robed Levites, and high-mitred priests ! How gorgeous her temple's sacred state ! Her streets are razed, her maidens sold for slaves, Her gates thrown down, her elders in their graves; Her feasts are holden 'mid the Gentiles' scorn, By stealth her priesthood's holy garments worn.


Who, for the poor renown of being smart, Would leave a sting within a brother's heart?

Young. As in smooth oil the razor best is whet, So wit is by politeness sharpest set; Their want of edge from their offence is seen, Both pain us least when exquisitely keen ; The fame men give is for the joy they find; Dull is the jester when the joke's unkind.

Young Of all the griefs that harass the distrest, Sure the most bitter is a scornful jest.-Johnson

2065. JESUS. Charity of

Jerusalem! alas! alas ! of old,
Deaf to whate'er prophetic seers foretold,
Assailing all whom Heaven in mercy sent,
And murdering those that warn'd thee to repent !
Thou, the world's Saviour who suspendedst high,
His works reviled, and mock'd His agony,
How oft hath God, still gracious, striven to bring
Thy devious brood beneath His sheltering wing,

The Master came one evening to the gate
Of a far city ; it was growing late,
And, sending His disciples to buy food,
He wander'd forth, intent on doing good,
As was His wont. And in the market-place
He saw a crowd, close gather'd in one space,
Gazing with eager eyes upon the ground.
Jesus drew nearer, and thereon He found
A noisome creature, a bedraggled wreck,
A dead dog with a halter round his neck.
And those who stood by mock'd the object there,
And one said, scoffing, 'It pollutes the air!'
Another, jeering, ask'd, 'How long to-night
Shall such a miscreant cur offend our sight?'
* Look at his torn hide,' sneer'd a Jewish wit;
You could not cut even a shoe from it,'

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And turn'd away. Behold his ears that bleed,' A fourth chimed in. 'An unclean wretch indeed!' 'He hath been hang'd for thieving,' they all cried, And spurn'd the loathsome beast from side to side. Then Jesus, standing by them in the street, Look'd on the poor spent creature at His feet, And, bending o'er him, spake unto the men, * Pearls are not whiter than his teeth.' And then The people at each other gazed, asking, 'Who is this stranger pitying the vile thing?' Then one exclaim'd, with awe-abated breath, * This surely is the Man of Nazareth ; This must be Jesus, for none else but He Something to praise in a dead dog could see !' And, being ashamed, each scoffer bow'd his head, And from the sight of Jesus turn'd and fled.

An Oriental Legend. 2066. JESUS. Cling to

Soft dropp'd His eye on wayside flowers,

He heard the whispers of the palms

Creep o'er the noontide's golden calms, He took the burden of the Hours.

With shadow'd brow and aching ear

He heard the wail, the hunger-cry, Smite up against the deaf, cold sky, The sob above the dead and dear.

Like man's His lips could smile or groan,

Like man He ate, like man He slept,

Rejoiced, was weary, thirsted, wept, And evermore He walk'd alone.

Cling to the Crucified !

His death is life to thee,
Life for eternity.
His pains thy pardon seal ;
His stripes thy bruises heal ;
His cross proclaims thy peace,
Bids every sorrow cease.
His blood is all to thee,

It purges thee from sin;
It sets thy spirit free,

'It keeps thy conscience clean. Cling to the Crucified !

Both God and man, to man He came,

He made a sunrise round the grave,

Smitten, the smiter He forgave, He fed the hungry, cured the lame. They pierced His hands, His feet, His side,

All Nature own'd the Holy One,

A shadow trail'd across the sun,
The mountains trembled when He died.

Cling to the Crucified !

His is a heart of love,
Full as the hearts above;
Its depths of sympathy
Are all awake for thee :
His countenance is light,
Even to the darkest night.
That love shall never change-

That light shall ne'er grow dim ;
Charge thou thy faithless heart

To find its all in Him. Cling to the Crucified !-Boncr.

He rules the World Invisible

The countless, the undying hosts

That line those unseen, mystic coasts, All give Him praise, in Him they dwell. He gently leads the friends that we

Behold no more, by waters still,

Beyond the flesh, the evil will; To Him they lift their eyes and see

That smile more bland than when on earth

It cheer'd the hearts on which it shone,

And dried the tear and still’d the moan, And beam'd upon the nuptial mirth.

2067. JESUS: God and Man.

SPRING-TIDE and leaf-fall, eve and morn,

Earth saw the slow-paced centuries go;

She wore her verdure, wore her snow, The long night went, the day was born.

But He is more; I may rejoice

To know this world above, around,

Cloud, mountain, river, storm, and sound, The stars, the seasons, hear His voice.

Then glow'd the heavens with angel eyes ;

On Night's dark brow the starry Sign

Red flared the Dawn ; from tongues divine Down slid the golden symphonies

In Him the breeze of Summer blows

O’er grass and many-murmuring corn ;

In Him the dews and leaves are born, He paints the lily and the rose.

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I'll carve our passion on the bark,

And every wounded tree
Shall drop and bear some mystic mark

That Jesus died for me.
The swains shall wonder when they read,

Inscribed on all the grove, That Heaven itself came down, and bled,

To win a mortal's love.- Watts.

The Love that neither depth nor height
Could hold, nor angel's tongue express,

The Man Divine, than God no less,
Immortal Life, Eternal Light.
He in our souls His kingdom lays

In power to fight, endure, withstand,

In seeing eye and willing hand,
God-likeness, patience, love, and praise.
Even in the flesh, conjoin'd to Him,

Earthly united with Divine,

On heavenly thrones we sit and shine ;
We walk and talk with Seraphim.
Death smites our brain, the walls grow dim ;

The Resurrection and the Life

He stands within the dying strife ; Death is the door that leads to Him.--Hempstead.

2070. JESUS. Name of

JESUS, Immanuel, Saviour !

Words holy and sublime;
How shall their wondrous cadence

Re-echo through all time!
Jesus, the sweetest music

That mortals e'er can know,
It soothes the child of sorrow,

And lightens every woe.
As breezes in the desert,

As dew on sterile ground,
So to the sad and weary

Comes the reviving sound.
As flowers without the sunbeam

Must lose their bloom and die;
So hearts can only flourish,

Dear Lord, beneath Thine eye.
Jesus, Thy love unbounded,

Our dearest theme shall be;
Forbid that we should wander,

In heart or life, from Thee :
Keep, keep us then enfolded

Within Thine arm of might-
Be Thou our guiding pillar,

We ask no better light.-Mrs Parker.

2068. JESUS : last and first.

JESUS! when my soul is parting

From this body frail and weak,
And the deathly dew is starting
Down this pale and wasted cheek,-

Thine, my Saviour,
Be the Name I last shall speak.

Jesus ! when my memory wanders

Far from loved ones at my side,

2071. JESUS. Need of

I rest my soul on Jesus,

This weary soul of mine ; His right hand me embraces,

I on His breast recline. I love the name of Jesus,

Immanuel, Christ, the Lord ; Like fragrance on the breezes

His name abroad is pour'd.

I need Thee, precious Jesus !

For I am full of sin ;
My soul is dark and guilty,

My heart is dead within ;
I need the cleansing fountain,

Where I can always flee-
The blood of Christ most precious;

The sinner's perfect plea.
I need Thee, precious Jesus !

For I am very poor ;
A stranger and a pilgrim,

With little earthly store :
I need the love of Jesus

To cheer me on my way,
To guide my doubting footsteps,

To be my strength and stay.

I long to be like Jesus,

Meek, loving, lowly, mild ; I long to be like Jesus,

The Father's holy child.
I long to be with Jesus

Amid the heavenly throng,
To sing with saints His praises,

To learn the angels' song.-Bonar.

2073. JESUS. Prayer to

I need Thee, precious Jesus !

I need a Friend like Thee; A Friend to soothe and sympathize

A Friend to care for me ; I need the heart of Jesus,

To feel each anxious care, To tell my every want to,

And all my sorrows share.

JESUS! when I fainting lie,
And the world is fitting by,

Hold Thou up my head :
When the cry is, “Thou must die,'
And the awful hour draws nigh,

Stand by my bed.

I need Thee, precious Jesus !

For I am very blind !
A weak and foolish wanderer,

With dark and evil mind;
I need the light of Jesus,

To tread the thorny road, To guide me safe to glory,

Where I shall see my God. - Whitfield.

Jesus ! when the worst is o'er,
And they bear me from the door,

Meet the sorrowing throng : ‘Weep not !' let the mourner hear : Widow's woe and orphan's tear

Turn into song.

Jesus ! in that last great day
Come Thou down and touch my clay,

Speak the word ' Arise.'
Friend to gladsome friend restore ;
Living, praising, evermore

Above the skies !

2072. JESUS: our sufficiency.

2074. JESUS. Precious Name of

I LAY my sins on Jesus,

The spotless Lamb of God; He bears them all, and frees us

From the accursed load. I bring my guilt to Jesus,

To wash my crimson stains White in His blood most precious,

Till not a spot remains.

Whate'er the anguish of my breast, its fluttering

doth cease Whene'er Thy name of comfort fills my spirit with

Thy peace ! No consolation is so sweet as that Thy name doth

giveThy Jesus name! O David's Son and Lord, by

whom I live!

I lay my wants on Jesus ;

All fulness dwells in Him : He heals all my diseases,

He doth my soul redeem. I lay my griefs on Jesus,

My burdens and my cares ; He from them all releases,

He all my sorrow shares.

Thy name of Jesus is a store of all that heart can

need, Enfolding every precious thing-fruit, blossom, leaf,

and seed !

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