LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
REAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 GATHERED BY 
 
 KATHARINE PAINE SUTTON. 
 
 To him that overcometh will I give to eat of the Tree of Life 
 which is in the Paradise of God. 
 
 And the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations. 
 
 BOSTON 
 
 AMERICAN UNITARIAN ASSOCIATION 
 1903 
 
Copyright, 1892, 
 BY AMERICAN UNITARIAN ASSOCIATION. 
 
 JOHN WILSON AND SON, CAMBRIDGE. 
 
TO 
 
 2Tfje Helpers ana 3ealra 
 
 FROM WHOM THESE LEAVES HAVE BEEN GATHERED, 
 
 THIS LITTLE BOOK IS GRATEFULLY INSCRIBED } 
 
 AND TO 
 
 Scrrofotttfl, to tfje 333earg anto 
 
 WITH THE EARNEST HOPE THAT THEY MAY FIND HEREIN 
 NEW INSPIRATION, STRENGTH, AND PEACE. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 I. LIFE'S VICTORIES n 
 
 II. DEATH'S MINISTRY 61 
 
 III. IMMORTALITY 81 
 
 IV. THE FAMILY ON EARTH AND IN HEAVEN 123 
 V. ETERNAL GOODNESS 143 
 
 VI. THE FATHER'S WILL 155 
 
 VII. ASPIRATION 167 
 
 VIII. THE PERFECT TRUST 183 
 
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS. 
 
 THE compiler remembers in her work, with pleas- 
 ure, the interest and sympathy of many, authors, 
 publishes, those engaged in post-office mission ser- 
 vice, and of some who have gathered the ripe fruits 
 of suffering : she acknowledges, with others, courtesies 
 extended by Houghton, Mifflin, & Co. for selections 
 from Emerson, Lowell, Longfellow, Whittier, Sill, 
 Mrs. Whitney, Alice Gary, Lucy Larcom, Nora Perry, 
 and others ; by Roberts Brothers, from Drs. Hedge 
 and Allen, and Messrs. Hosmer, Gannett, Chadwick, 
 Mrs. Jackson, Susan Coolidge, and others ; by George 
 H. Ellis, from Messrs. Savage, Merriam, and others ; 
 by Charles H. Kerr & Co., from Messrs. Blake, Gan- 
 nett, Jones, and Mrs. Marean ; by the Universalist 
 Publishing House, from Dr. Chapin, and from " Voices 
 of the Faith ; " by Dr. J. Straub, from Dr. H. W. 
 Thomas ; by Fords, Howard, & Hulbert, from Dr. 
 H. W. Beecher in " Comforting Thoughts ; " by 
 Charles Scribner's Sons, from Dr. J. G. Holland ; 
 by James Pott & Co., from Ugo Bassi ; by Lee and 
 Shepard, from Dr. Collyer; by Macmillan & Co., from 
 Mr. Winter ; by D. Appleton & Co., from Mr. Bryant : 
 and not least she acknowledges in the undertaking 
 the sympathy and ever ready help of her husband, to 
 whose judgment in selecting and especially in arrang- 
 ing these Leaves she is greatly indebted. 
 
 BROOKLYN, CONN., March, 1892. 
 
LIFE'S VICTORIES. 
 
LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 LIFE'S VICTORIES. 
 
 THANKS be to God who giveth us the victory! 
 i COR. xv. 57. 
 
 HE hath torn, and he will heal us ; he hath smitten, 
 and he will bind us up. After two days will he revive 
 us ; on the third day he will raise us up, and we shall 
 live before him. HOSEA vi. I, 2. 
 
 "11 7 HAT shall we call the real things, by and by, 
 * when the vision shall have had divine anoint- 
 ing, when we shall name things right? our 
 little victories, our successes, our joys which 
 were hardly large enough to be consecrated ; 
 the lessons from which at first we shrank and 
 called them sorrows, or even calamities, but 
 which carried us along toward larger fellowship 
 and quicker contact with the things that abide? 
 I know not; but this I know, that deepening 
 
12 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 experience greatly reverses some of the decisions 
 which we made earlier on the way. And so I love 
 to think we shall one day be able to spell out 
 some grand words with the letters we are learn- 
 ing with such painful labor now ! 
 
 STEPHEN H. CAMP. 
 
 teachers in God's great school are many. 
 Joy and sorrow, love and loss, daily work, 
 household tenderness, health, sickness, strength, 
 helplessness, one by one they come, solemn 
 figures, some with radiant faces, some veiled and 
 shrouded. Each speaks its word of command : 
 " Be glad," " Be patient," " Be faithful," " Strive," 
 " Lie still and wait." Often we break in upon 
 the lesson with an importunate demand, " Show 
 me the end ! " But each teacher, grave and tender, 
 says only, "Do this that I bid thee." The full 
 answer may be a long time in coming. And yet, 
 all the time, God is so near ! For the present 
 want we may always find Him sufficient. . . . Go 
 forth to work, to serve, to love ! This little life 
 passes quickly away. Its shadows and sorrows 
 are for a moment; its virtues, its victory, its 
 
 peace, are of the eternal. 
 
 GEORGE S. MERRIAM. 
 
LIFE'S VICTORIES. 13 
 
 / T" r HE human soul is purified and exalted by 
 A trial and grief. Life itself has a new charm 
 for him who has trodden its depths as well as 
 its heights. The keenness of our suffering in- 
 creases the intensity of our joy. Yes, there is a 
 meaning in tears, a discipline in darkness, and 
 our griefs are our glory. Therefore, when your 
 dearest hopes are disappointed, when your faith 
 in man is tried by bitterest ingratitude, or you 
 are cast upon the bed of sickness, oh, do not 
 despair ! for these are the divine processes by 
 which your nobler self is developed, by which 
 the crude bullion of your nature, purified in the 
 flames of tribulation, is freshly minted with the 
 image and superscription of a perfect manhood. 
 
 CHARLES W. WENDTE. 
 
 A S I recall the personal history of those I know, 
 *"* I see how universal is disappointment. But 
 it has not made you more melancholy and less 
 manly men ; life is not thereby the less a bless- 
 ing and the more a load. With no sorrows you 
 would be more sorrowful. For all the sorrows 
 that man has faithfully contended with he shall 
 sail into port deeper fraught with manliness. The 
 wife and mother at thirty years of age imprisoned 
 
14 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 in her chair, her hands all impotent to wipe a tear 
 away, does not suffer for nothing. She has there- 
 by been taught to taste the fruits of sweeter com- 
 munion with God. These disappointments are 
 rounds in the ladder whereby we climb to heaven. 
 Sorrow takes you on her wings and bears you up 
 higher than before, to a new communion with 
 your Father, that you may receive great inspira- 
 tion from him. THEODORE PARKER. 
 
 GOD'S angels come to us disguised; 
 Sorrow and sickness, poverty and death, 
 One after other lift their frowning masks, 
 And we behold the seraph's face beneath, 
 All radiant with the glory and the calm 
 Of having looked upon the front of God. 
 With every anguish of our earthly part 
 The spirit's sight grows clearer : this was meant 
 When Jesus touched the blind man's lids with clay. 
 JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. 
 
 IS sorrow builds the shining ladder up, 
 
 Whose golden rounds are our calamities, 
 Whereon our firm feet planting, nearer God 
 The spirit climbs, and hath its eyes unsealed. 
 
 JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. 
 
LIFE'S VICTORIES. 15 
 
 THE DARK ANGEL. 
 
 each affliction, whether light or grave, 
 ^ God's messenger sent down to thee. Do thou 
 With courtesy receive him : rise and bow ; 
 And ere his shadow pass thy threshold, crave 
 Permission first his heavenly feet to lave ; 
 Then lay before him all thou hast ; allow 
 No cloud of passion to usurp thy brow 
 Or mar thy hospitality ; no wave 
 Of mortal tumult to obliterate 
 Thy soul's marmoreal calmness. Grief should be 
 Like joy, majestic, equable, sedate, 
 Confirming, cleansing, raising, making free ; 
 Strong to consume small troubles ; to commend 
 Great thoughts, grave thoughts, thoughts lasting to 
 the end. 
 
 AUBREY DE VERB. 
 
 "\T 7 HAT difference did it make to Christ, whether 
 in the wilderness he did fierce battle with 
 temptation ; or sat on the green slope to teach 
 the people and send them home as if God had 
 dropped upon their hearts amid the shades of 
 evening ; whether he stood over the corpse, and 
 looking on the dark eyes, said, " Let there be 
 light," and the curtain of the. shadow of death 
 drew up ; or saw the angel of duty approach him- 
 
1 6 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 self in the dress of the grave, and on the mourn- 
 ful "Come away," tendered his hand and was 
 meekly led ; whether his walk was over strewn 
 flowers, or beneath the cross too heavy to be 
 borne, amid the cries of " Hosanna," or the mur 
 derous shout? The difference was all of pain; 
 none was there of conscience, of trust, of power, 
 of love. Let there be a conscious affiliation with 
 God ; and as he pervadeth all things, a unity is 
 imparted to life, and a stability to the mind, which 
 put character and will above the reach of circum- 
 stance ; a current of pure and strong affections, 
 fed by the fount of bliss, pours from hidden and 
 sunlit heights, and winds through the open plains 
 and dark ravines of life, till its murmurs fall into 
 the everlasting deep. JAMES MARTINEAU. 
 
 SPIKENARD. 
 
 WHAT was the box of spikenard, Lord, 
 Which Mary brought, and at thy feet 
 Broke, and the ointment on thee poured, 
 The while thou sat'st with them at meat ? 
 
 The house with the sweet smell was filled, 
 And all the chambers of the years 
 Are fragrant with those odors spilled, 
 And tender with that dew of tears. 
 
LIFE'S VICTORIES, 17 
 
 O Lord, do I not likewise bring 
 Before thee, as I lowly kneel, 
 My costly grief, that hidden thing, 
 And for thee only break the seal ? 
 
 Thou seest, human as thou art, 
 Yet glorified in God again, 
 The broken box, a human heart ; 
 The precious oil, its chrism of pain ! 
 
 MRS. A. D. T. WHITNEY. 
 
 TF you say, " I am hedged about, I can do noth- 
 ing; I fain would help but I cannot," your 
 very longing is a help. "They also serve who 
 only stand and wait." It is never true that we 
 are not helpers ; where the fervent heart is, there 
 is the servant of God, and unto him comes ever 
 with the work the reward. He is still and strong 
 in God, because he is a co-worker with God, and 
 his life holds for itself a secret which is not known 
 to another, he has come in his very work to the 
 rest that remaineth. ROBERT COLLYER. 
 
 OD has placed no being in a barren soil ; no 
 one where he may not find the elements of 
 immortal life ; none where through perfect fidelity 
 to its condition, its roots may not reach out to 
 
1 8 LEAVES OF HE AUNG. 
 
 embrace the earth, and spread out branches and 
 leaves to heal and overshadow it. Thus Charlotte 
 Bronte's life was like an acorn dropped in the cleft 
 of a rock a condition as hard as infelicity could 
 make it. For a time its lateral growth was choked 
 by its grim surroundings; but at last its roots 
 struck down so deep that they underran the rock, 
 and then reached outward to enrich themselves 
 from the treasures of the whole earth. And thus 
 it may be with every life, if it is perfectly faithful 
 and true to the condition in which it is placed. 
 It may grow outward into the possession of all 
 that remains for the children of God. 
 
 NAHOR AUGUSTUS STAPLES. 
 
 Y\ 7"E seek to be delivered from pain and sorrow, 
 * ' and God designs to deliver us. Vainly we 
 seek, but he accomplishes. Our end is not mis- 
 taken, but we mistake the means. We seek deliv- 
 erance by taking away; he gives deliverance by 
 adding : 
 
 " 'T is life of which our nerves are scant, 
 More life, and fuller, that we want." 
 
 JAMES HINTON. 
 
 TT is a wonderful story. Job and his friends spec- 
 * ulate all about the mystery, and their conclu- 
 sions from their premises are entirely correct ; but 
 
LIFE'S VICTORIES. 19 
 
 they have forgotten to take in the separate sov- 
 ereign will of God, as working with a great purpose 
 in the man's life, by which he is to be lifted into 
 a grander reach of insight and experience than 
 ever he had before. Job said, " I suffer ; I am in 
 darkness and disappointment and pain, because it 
 is fate." Job's friends said, "No, you suffer be- 
 cause you have sinned." They were both wrong 
 and all wrong. He suffered because that was the 
 divine way of bringing him out of his self-satisfied 
 content ; and when, through suffering, that was 
 done, he said, " I have heard of thee with mine 
 ears, but now mine eye seeth thee." There is a 
 bird, it is said, that will never learn the song his 
 master will have him sing, while his cage is full of 
 light. He listens and learns a snatch of this, a 
 trill of that, a polyglot of all the songs in the 
 grove, but never a separate and entire melody of 
 his own. But the master covers his cage, makes 
 the way all dark about him ; then he will listen to 
 the one song he has to sing ; and try and try and 
 try again, until at last his heart is full of it. Then, 
 when he has caught the melody, the cage is un- 
 covered. When there is light on the song there is 
 no need for darkness on the way. 
 
 Friends, if I had never gone into darkened 
 rooms, where the soul stands at the parting of the 
 
20 LEA VES OF HEALING. 
 
 worlds ; or sat down beside widows and little 
 children, when the desire of their eyes was taken 
 away with a stroke ; or grasped the hands of strong 
 men when all they had toiled for was gone, 
 nothing left but honor; or ministered to men 
 mangled on the battle-field beyond all telling; 
 and heard in all these places where darkness was 
 on the way, melodies, melodies that I never heard 
 among the commonplaces of prosperity, I could 
 not be so sure as I am that God often darkens the 
 way that the melody may grow clear and entire in 
 the soul. 
 
 Then, if this man could have known, as he 
 sat there in the ashes, bruising his heart on this 
 problem of Providence, that in the trouble that 
 had come upon him he was doing what one man 
 may do to work out the problem for the world, he 
 might again have taken courage. No man lives 
 to himself. Job's life is but your life and mine 
 written in larger text. What we all are doing as 
 we stand in our lot, steady to our manliness or our 
 womanliness in our black days, is to tell in its 
 measure on the life and faith of every good man 
 coming after us, though our name may be forgot- 
 ten. ... So then, though we may not know what 
 trials wait on any of us, we can believe that, as the 
 days in which Job wrestled with his dark maladies 
 
LIFE'S VICTORIES. 21 
 
 are the only days that make him worth remem- 
 brance, and but for which his name had never 
 been written in the book of life, so the days 
 through which we struggle, finding no way, but 
 never losing the light, will be the most significant 
 we are called to live. ROBERT COLLYER. 
 
 compensations of calamity are made ap- 
 parent to the understanding also, after long 
 intervals of time. A fever, a mutilation, a cruel 
 disappointment, a loss of wealth, a loss of friends, 
 seems at the moment unpaid loss and unpayable. 
 But the sure years reveal the deep remedial force 
 that underlies all facts. The death of a dear 
 friend, wife, brother, lover, which seemed nothing 
 but privation, somewhat later assumes the aspect 
 of a guide or genius ; and the man or woman who 
 would have remained a sunny garden-flower, with 
 no room for its roots and too much sunshine for 
 its head, by the falling of the walls and the neglect 
 of the gardener is made the banian of the forest, 
 yielding shade and iruit to wide neighborhoods of 
 men. RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 
 
 ~P\ID not Jesus know, and might he not speak of 
 
 the way to the Father? Surely if we still 
 
 take offence at God for his yoke or for his refusals, 
 
22 LEA VES OF HEALING. 
 
 for burdens or for disappointments, it is only be- 
 cause we separate ourselves from the life of the 
 Son of Man, who knew them all and found no 
 offence in them. Might, think we, a Son of God 
 have taken offence at the Father for treatment so 
 little to be expected, a lowly and suffering place, 
 personal humiliations and contempt, wounded 
 hopes, fruitless labors, agonies of lonely apprehen- 
 sion, the desertion of followers, public rejection 
 and mock homage, jeers, insults, and a death of 
 shame ? If he took none, who can be justified in 
 taking any ? We do not mean that in his life were 
 all circumstantial experiences in which each may 
 find his own, but that his life was the perfect way 
 of life, that he knew every class of spiritual diffi- 
 culty, every kind of natural cloud floating between 
 God and man ; by meeting and dissolving which 
 he earned a Deliverer's right to say to all Human- 
 ity, in the name of a representative Child of the 
 Heavenly Father : " Gome unto me, all ye that 
 labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. 
 Take my yoke upon you and learn of me, and ye 
 shall find rest unto your souls ; for my yoke is easy 
 and my burden is light." 
 
 JOHN HAMILTON THOM. 
 
LIFE'S VICTORIES. 23 
 
 OEEING that many glory after the flesh, I will 
 ^ glory also. And if I needs must glory, I will 
 glory of the things which concern mine infirmities. 
 Not that I speak in respect of want : for I have 
 learned in whatsoever state I am, therein to be 
 content. I know how to be abased and I know 
 also how to abound : in everything and in all 
 things have I learned the secret both to be filled 
 and to be hungry, both to abound and to be in 
 want. I can do all things in him that strength- 
 eneth me. For he hath said unto me, My grace is 
 sufficient for thee : for my power is made perfect 
 in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather 
 glory in my weaknesses that the strength of Christ 
 may rest upon me. Wherefore I take pleasure in 
 weaknesses, in injuries, in necessities, in persecu- 
 tions, in distresses, for Christ's sake ; for when I 
 am weak, then am I strong. And not only so, but 
 let us also rejoice in our tribulations : knowing 
 that tribulation worketh patience ; and patience 
 probation ; and probation hope ; and hope putteth 
 not to shame ; because the love of God hath been 
 shed abroad in our hearts through the Holy Spirit 
 which was given unto us. 
 
 PAUL. 
 
24 LEA VES OF HEALING. 
 
 TNSTEAD of regarding afflictions as judgments 
 * and tokens of God's displeasure, Paul, in the 
 light of Christianity, deems them as means of 
 greater attainments in the true life of the soul. 
 He proceeds to point out the sequence of Christian 
 experiences, and to rejoice in trials instead of 
 being cast down by them. The order is, trial, 
 patience, proof, hope. Trials properly borne cul- 
 tivate patience ; patience affords us proof of what 
 we really are, Robinson translates the word ren- 
 dered probation by proof, approval, tried integrity, 
 and this proof becomes the basis of our reason- 
 able hopes for the time to come, such as will not 
 fail or disappoint us ; for the exercise of these 
 affections and virtues is re- enforced by a higher 
 power, by communications from the love and holy 
 spirit of God himself. Such are the glorious golden 
 links of the chain which draw up the soul heaven- 
 ward, trial, patience, proof, hope, possession ; 
 but they are all melted and welded in the love of 
 God to us, and are made pure by his spirit. 
 
 ABIEL ABBOT LIVERMORE. 
 
 BEHIND AND BEFORE. 
 E thing I do; the things behind forgetting, 
 And reaching forward to the things before, 
 Unto the goal, the prize of God's high calling, 
 Onward I press," said that great soul of yore. 
 
LIFE'S VICTORIES. 2$ 
 
 And in the heart like strains of martial music, 
 Echo the words of courage, trust, and cheer, 
 The while we stand, half hoping, half regretting, 
 Between the coming and the parting year. 
 
 Behind are joys, fair hopes that found fulfilment, 
 Sweet human fellowships, and many a gain; 
 Unanswered prayers, burdens of loss and sorrow, 
 Faces that look no more in ours again. 
 
 Before are opportunity and promise, 
 Fairer fulfilments than the past could know ; 
 New growths of soul, new leadings of the Spirit, 
 And all the glad surprises God will show. 
 
 All we have done, or nobly failed in doing, 
 All we have been, or bravely striven to be, 
 Counts for our gain, within us still surviving, 
 As power and larger possibility. 
 
 All, all shall count ; the mingled joy and sorrow 
 To force of finer being rise at last ; 
 From the crude ores in trial's furnace smelted 
 The image of the perfect life is cast. 
 
 " Onward I press, the things behind forgetting 
 And reaching forward to the things before : " 
 Ring the brave words like strains of martial music, 
 As we pass through the New Year's open door. 
 
 FBEDERICK L. HOSMER. 
 
26 LEA VES OF HEALING. 
 
 BUT count the gains 
 Which far the seeming loss outweigh ; 
 Friendships built firm 'gainst flood and wind 
 On rock-foundations of the mind ; 
 Knowledge, instead of scheming hope ; 
 For wild adventure, settled scope ; 
 Talents from surface-ore profuse, 
 Tempered and edged to tools for use ; 
 Judgment, for passion's headlong whirls ; 
 Old sorrows crystalled into pearls ; 
 Losses by patience turned to gains, 
 Possessions now, that once were pains ; 
 Joy's blossom gone, as go it must, 
 To ripen seeds of faith and trust. 
 I have not spilt one drop of joy 
 Poured in the senses of the boy, 
 Nor Nature fails my walks to bless 
 With all her golden inwardness ; 
 And as blind nestlings, unafraid, 
 Stretch up wide-mouthed to every shade 
 By which their downy dream is stirred, 
 Taking it for the mother-bird, 
 So when God's shadow, which is light, 
 Unheralded, by day or night, 
 My wakening instincts falls across, 
 Silent as sunbeams over moss, 
 In my heart's nest unconscious things 
 Stir with a helpless sense of wings, 
 Lift themselves up, and tremble long 
 With premonitions sweet of song. 
 
 JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. 
 
LIFE'S VICTORIES. 2/ 
 
 TF you ask me for an assurance that those vast 
 " powers, those sublime realities, which we name 
 God, make personal account of you, so that your 
 own safety is somehow cared for and not lost as 
 a disregarded atom among mightier things, again 
 I say, no man can prove it for you, but you may 
 slowly and surely come to it for yourself. As you 
 set yourself in earnest to the business of* right living, 
 you will more and more feel what a sublime thing 
 life is, how divine is the universe in which you are 
 a part ; and with that sense of the blessedness of 
 life there comes to every true soul a most humble, 
 grateful sense of something given. " Not of my- 
 self, it is the gift of God ! " is its instinctive, deep- 
 est word about whatever highest achievement or 
 sweetest enjoyment comes to it. 
 
 Train yourself to find the good in what seems 
 evil, to make of disaster an opportunity for your 
 courage, to master suffering by patience, to learn 
 from sorrow, sympathy. So will there grow upon 
 you an assurance that through all forms of what 
 seems evil there is working a higher good. . . . 
 Here too the word of Jesus stands always true, 
 " He that loseth his life shall find it." 
 
 And finally, be patient. Upon the loyal soul 
 there dawn from time to time more glorious morn- 
 
28 LEA VES OF HEALING. 
 
 ings than it ever saw before. You may come to 
 learn that life contains no more wonderful and 
 blessed thing than God's surprises. A man strug- 
 gles bravely and unsuccessfully with an evil habit 
 and suddenly a change of circumstances lifts him 
 out of its reach. A life of faithful service is lonely 
 and hungry for human love, and some day a great 
 and sacred friendship comes to it. A soul walks 
 for years the patient path of duty, vainly long- 
 ing for a sense of the living God, and in some 
 unexpectant hour the Divine Presence shines full 
 upon it. 
 
 Nor is it alone by sudden surprises that we 
 come to know how " God's gifts put man's best 
 dreams to shame." To steady fidelity come 
 steady growth and enlarging vision, as surely as 
 the harvest follows the sowing. There are better 
 things in store for you than you know. In the 
 calendar of your future there are days marked for 
 angelic visits. The angels may come disguised, 
 but come they surely will. Yours be it to have 
 for them an open door, and a house where amid 
 firmly knit habits and pure affections they shall 
 
 find a home. 
 
 GEORGE S. MERRIAM. 
 
LIFE'S VICTORIES. 29 
 
 SOME times there be, when thoughts of unseen 
 things 
 
 Press in upon me, and all earthly thoughts 
 Do hide themselves, and I am lifted up 
 Above the cares and labors of this world, 
 Into that realm where all things are attuned 
 And set to one grand harmony divine. 
 And there, while listening to its flow, I gain 
 New strength, and feel new courage for the work 
 That lies before me, and begin anew 
 Life's common duties, no longer common, 
 But part of that grand anthem, which when heard 
 Aright and heard complete, such music gives 
 As ne'er before to mortal ear was given. 
 
 EVERETT O. WOOD. 
 
 I COUNT this thing to be grandly true 
 That a noble deed is a step toward God, 
 Lifting the soul from the common clod 
 To a purer air and a broader view. 
 
 We rise by the things that are under our feet ; 
 By what we have mastered of good and gain ; 
 By the pride deposed and the passion slain, 
 And the vanquished ills that we hourly meet. 
 
 Heaven is not reached at a single bound ; 
 But we build the ladder by which we rise 
 From the lowly earth to the vaulted skies, 
 And we mount to its summit, round by round. 
 
 J. G. HOLLAND. 
 
30 LEA VES OF HEALING. 
 
 I HELD it truth with him who sings 
 To one clear harp of divers tones, 
 That men may rise on stepping-stones 
 Of their dead selves to higher things. 
 
 ALFRED TENNYSON. 
 
 THE BATTLE OF GOD. 
 
 SO strive, so rule, Almighty Lord of all ! 
 So greatly win the planet-victory ! 
 So gloriously what baffles bring in thrall ! 
 So strongly work, Earth's final jubilee 
 With gladness and with singing to install ! 
 
 And man may work with the great God : yea, ours 
 This privilege, all others how beyond ! 
 To tend the great Man-root until it flowers ; 
 To scorn with godly laughter when Despond 
 Tamely before a hoary hindrance cowers ; 
 
 Effectually the planet to subdue, 
 And break old savagehood in claw and tusk ; 
 That noble end to trust in and pursue 
 Which under Nature's half-expressive husk 
 Lies ever from the base conceal'd from view ; 
 
 To draw our fellows up, as with a cord 
 Of love, unto their high-appointed place, 
 Till, from our state barbaric and abhorr'd, 
 We do arise unto a royal race ; 
 To be the blest companions of the Lord. 
 
 HENRY SEPTIMUS BUTTON. 
 
LIFE'S VICTORIES. 3! 
 
 CHRIST. 
 
 IN Christ I feel the heart of God 
 Throbbing from heaven through earth ; 
 Life stirs again within the clod, 
 Renewed in beauteous birth. 
 The soul springs up, a flower of prayer, 
 Breathing his breath out on the air. 
 
 In Christ I touch the hand of God; 
 From his pure height reached down, 
 By blessed ways before untrod, 
 To lift us to our crown ; 
 Victory that only perfect is 
 Through loving sacrifice, like his. 
 
 Holding his hand, my steadied feet 
 
 May walk the air, the seas ; 
 
 On life and death his smile falls sweet 
 
 Lights up all mysteries; 
 
 Strange* nor exile can I be 
 
 In new worlds where he leadeth me. 
 
 LUCY" LARCOM. 
 
 TESUS laid his hands upon a multitude of 
 J things, upon the sick, the afflicted, the 
 hungry, the dying ; upon little children, upon the 
 bread he broke in the wilderness; upon sorrow 
 and upon pain ; and lastly, he laid them upon 
 
32 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 the cross ; and wherever he laid his hands he left 
 a sweetness and a fragrance which wisdom can 
 perceive, and wisdom alone can know. 
 
 HENRY EDWARD MANNING. 
 
 \\ 7"E can hardly learn tenderness and humility 
 * enough except by suffering. 
 
 GEORGE ELIOT. 
 
 TTUMAN character is never found "to enter 
 into its glory," except through the ordeal of 
 affliction. JAMES MARTINEAU. 
 
 is in man a higher than happiness ; he 
 * can do without happiness, and find in stead 
 thereof Blessedness ! Was it not to preach 
 forth this same Higher that sages and martyrs, the 
 poet and the priest, in all times have spoken and 
 suffered, bearing testimony, tnrough life and 
 death, of the Godlike that is in man, and how in 
 the Godlike only has he strength and freedom ? 
 
 THOMAS CARLYLE. 
 
 TTE who planted the germs of Pity in the hu- 
 * man heart must have meant to leave the root 
 
 of Sorrow in human life. 
 
 JAMES MARTINEAU. 
 
LIFE'S VICTORIES. 33 
 
 TT is our Maker's care that plants alike thorns 
 and flowers in our path. To reject his flowers 
 would be none the less unfilial than to repine at 
 his thorns. FRANCES POWER COBBE. 
 
 T HAVE been a great deal happier since I have 
 given up thinking about what is easy and pleas- 
 ant, and being discontented because I could not 
 have my own will. Our life is determined for us ; 
 and it makes the mind very free when we give up 
 wishing, and only think of bearing what is laid upon 
 us, and doing what is given us to do. 
 
 GEORGE ELIOT. 
 
 "\7"OU are wrong in thinking of peace as some- 
 A thing which is to come only in a future life. 
 There is no reason for expecting it hereafter but 
 its having begun now. Every true surrender of 
 selfish principles to God and the inward monitor 
 is the beginning of heaven and heaven's peace. 
 The best proof of a heaven to come is its dawning 
 in us now. We are blinded by common errors to 
 the degree of celestial good which is to be found 
 on earth. I do not tell you to labor for it ; for a 
 selfish impatience may remove it from us. I 
 would say, accept your inward and outward trials 
 3 
 
34 LEA VES OF HEALING. 
 
 as appointed by the Friend of your soul for its 
 progress and perfection, and use them for this 
 end, not doubtingly or impetuously, but confid- 
 ingly ; and just as fast as the power of Christian 
 virtue grows within you, peace and heaven will 
 come, unless, for some greater good, present hap- 
 piness be obstructed by physical causes. Be of 
 good cheer. Be not weary in well doing. Be not 
 anxious. WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING. 
 
 is the peace of surrendered as well as 
 of fulfilled hopes ; the peace not of satisfied 
 but of extinguished longings ; the peace not of the 
 happy love and the secure fireside, but of unmur- 
 muring and accepted loneliness ; the peace not of 
 the heart which lives in joyful serenity afar from 
 trouble and from strife, but of the heart where 
 conflicts are over and where hopes are buried; 
 not the peace which brooded over Eden, but that 
 
 which crowned Gethsemane. 
 
 WILLIAM R. GREG. 
 
 ON HIS BLINDNESS. 
 
 WHEN I consider how my light is spent 
 Ere half my days, in this dark world and 
 
 wide, 
 And that one talent which is death to hide, 
 
LIFE'S VICTORIES. 35 
 
 Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent 
 
 To serve therewith my Maker, and present 
 
 My true account, lest he returning chide ; 
 
 " Doth God exact day-labor, light denied ? " 
 
 I fondly ask : but Patience to prevent 
 
 That murmur, soon replies, " God doth not need 
 
 Either man's work or his own gifts ; who best 
 
 Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best ; his .state 
 
 Is kingly ; thousands at his bidding speed, 
 
 And post o'er land and ocean without rest ; 
 
 They also serve who only stand and wait." 
 
 JOHN MILTON. 
 
 T IFE is a short day's climbing ; mists and rain 
 *-' envelop us ; often we toil up expecting small 
 returns, doubting at times the existence of moun- 
 tain ranges. Then suddenly we are overtaken 
 with a glad surprise. A halt, an unexpected turn, 
 and a revelation breaks upon us, and then our 
 years stand around draped in white, capped with 
 Alpine splendors, and the whiteness of their peaks 
 is not miracle or dogma, not creed, sect, or text, 
 not the hope of heaven or the fear of hell, but the 
 celestial commonplaces of earthly duties and hu- 
 man privileges, a mother's love, a father's manly 
 care, the love of home and children, the heart ties, 
 soft as silk but strong as iron, that either bind us 
 to God, or mangle and cripple us, as we heed or 
 
36 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 defy them. These bring us the " peace of God 
 which passeth all understanding," and garrison our 
 hearts and our thoughts in the ideal, the Christ 
 
 Jesus of the soul. 
 
 JENKIN LLOYD JONES. 
 
 r F v HE actual relief of misery is an inferior boon 
 A to that revelation of " the law of the spirit of 
 life " which it begins to make discernible. " It 
 would almost seem as if the withdrawal of all hope 
 tended, in the beneficent ways of Providence, to 
 quiet afflicted nature, and to bring about a com- 
 posure and calm of the soul, which is proof against 
 many keen temptations." In many of those who 
 receive it so it is, no doubt, the reflex of a very 
 positive belief in an everlasting life of conscious 
 and increasing joy, to which they may enter only 
 through the gateway of pain ; but in many others 
 it seems to be the simple natural effect of that 
 discipline of " strength and purification " which 
 is the profounder meaning of pain, so that they 
 are already, without knowing it, entered into 
 the eternal life, nay, as in some cases known 
 to us, have felt a certain exaltation of spirit in 
 the conscious sense that they have been thus 
 singled out by the Lord of Life, as those worthy, 
 
LIFE'S VICTORIES. 37 
 
 like their Master, to be made "perfect through 
 suffering." 
 
 JOSEPH HENRY ALLEN. 
 
 went down together to the door, 
 *- Which when the curate opened, lo! without 
 The beggar sat ; and he saluted him: 
 When lo ! the dazzled curate staggered back, 
 For dread effulgence from the beggar's eyes 
 - '-^Smote him, and from the crippled limbs shot forth 
 Terrible lights, as pure long blades of fire. 
 
 And, when the beggar looked on him, 
 He said, " If I offend not, pray you tell 
 Who and what are you : I behold a face 
 Marred with old age, sickness and poverty, 
 A cripple with a staff, who long hath sat 
 Begging, and ofttimes moaning, in the porch, 
 For pain and for the wind's inclemency : 
 What are you ? " Then the beggar made reply, 
 
 ..." My dwelling place 
 Was far remote in heaven ; 
 There I did wait ; and oft, at work, I sang, 
 ' To minister ! oh, joy, to minister ! ' 
 And, it being known, a message came to me : 
 'Whether is best, . . . 
 To minister to others, or that they 
 Should minister to thee ? ' Then on my face, 
 Low lying, I made answer : ' It is best, 
 Most High, to minister;' and thus came back 
 The answer : ' Choose not for thyself the best ; 
 
38 LEA VES OF HEALING. 
 
 Go down, and, lo ! my poor shall minister, 
 Out of their poverty, to thee ; shall learn 
 Compassion by thy frailty ; and shall oft 
 Turn back, when speeding home from work, to help 
 Thee, weak and crippled, home. My little ones, 
 Thou shalt importune for their slender mite, 
 And pray, and move them that they give it up 
 For love of me.' " 
 
 The curate answered him, 
 " Art thou content, O great one from afar ? " 
 " I am. Behold ! I stand not all alone, 
 That I should think to do a perfect work. 
 I may not wish to give ; for I have heard 
 'T is best for me that I receive. For me, 
 God is the only giver, and his gift 
 Is one." 
 
 Then did the beggar lift 
 His face to heaven, and utter forth a cry 
 As of the pangs of death, and every tree 
 Moved as if shaken by a sudden wind. 
 He cried again, and there came forth a hand 
 From some invisible form, which, being laid 
 A little moment on the curate's eyes, 
 It dazzled him with light that brake from it, 
 So that he saw no more. 
 
 JEAN INGELOW. 
 
 the background of pain and sorrow often 
 break out the noblest and most winning mani- 
 festations of humanity. The depth of human sym- 
 
LIFE'S VICTORIES. 39 
 
 pathy, the wealth of its love, is displayed in scenes 
 of tribulation and need. The robes of charity 
 show their whiteness amid the gloom of poverty 
 and distress. Christlike patience is born of suf- 
 fering, the soul shines out in its essential splendor 
 through the medium of bodily anguish, and faith 
 trims her lamp in the shadow of the grave. Shall 
 we call this existence a trivial thing, whose very 
 miseries are the occasions of the noblest triumphs, 
 whose trials may be converted into divine strength, 
 whose tears may change into celestial dew, and 
 nourish flowers of immortal hope? 
 
 EDWIN H. CHAPIN. 
 
 I 
 
 T is easy to suffer and to wait if we take the in- 
 stant as something to be beautified. 
 
 RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 
 
 TDAITH and patience are sure of ultimate 
 -* triumph, closed doors fly open, mountains 
 of difficulty remove before the resolute will of man 
 so inspired. The evils, failures, moral disasters, 
 spiritual tragedies of life, can only be met worthily 
 by hearts " at leisure from themselves." 
 
 HENRY WOODS FERRIS. 
 
4O LEA VES OF HEALING, 
 
 HPHEY were living to themselves. Self, with its 
 hopes and promises and dreams, still had 
 hold of them : but the Lord began to fulfil their 
 prayers. They had asked for contrition, and he 
 sent them sorrow; they had asked for purity, 
 and he sent them thrilling anguish ; they had 
 asked to be meek, and he had broken their 
 hearts ; they had asked to be dead to the world, 
 and he slew all their living hopes ; they had 
 asked to be made like unto him, and he placed 
 them in the furnace, sitting by "as a refiner of 
 silver," till they should reflect his image ; they 
 had asked to lay hold of his cross, and when he 
 had reached it to them, it lacerated their hands. 
 They had asked they knew not what, nor how ; but 
 he had taken them at their word, and granted 
 them all their petitions. They were hardly will- 
 ing to follow on so far, or to draw so nigh to 
 him. They had upon them an awe and fear, as 
 Jacob at Bethel, or Eliphaz in the night visions, 
 or as the Apostles when they thought they had 
 seen a spirit, and knew not that it was Jesus. 
 They could almost pray him to depart from them 
 or to hide his awfulness. They found it easier to 
 obey than to suffer, to do than to give up, to 
 bear the cross than to hang upon it ; but they 
 
LIFE'S VICTORIES. 41 
 
 cannot go back, for they have come too near the 
 unseen cross, and its virtues have pierced too 
 deeply within them. He is fulfilling to them his 
 promise, " And I, if I be lifted up, will draw all 
 men unto me." 
 
 But now, at last, their turn is come. Before, 
 they had only heard of the mystery, but now they 
 feel it. He has fastened on them his look of love, 
 as he did on Mary and Peter, and they cannot but 
 choose to follow. Little by little, from time to 
 time, by flitting gleams, the mystery of his cross 
 shines upon them. They behold him lifted up; 
 they gaze upon the glory which rays forth from 
 the wounds of his holy passion ; and as they gaze, 
 they advance, and are changed into his likeness, 
 and his name shines out through them, for he 
 dwells in them. They live alone with God above, 
 in unspeakable fellowship ; willing to lack what 
 others own, and to be unlike all so that they are 
 only like him. 
 
 Such are they in all ages who follow the Lamb 
 whithersoever he goeth. Had they chosen for 
 themselves, or had their friends chosen for them, 
 they would have chosen otherwise. They would 
 have been brighter here, but less glorious in his 
 kingdom. They would have Lot's portion, not 
 Abraham's. If they had halted anywhere if he 
 
42 LEA VES OF HEALING. 
 
 had taken off his hand, and let them stray back 
 what would they not have lost ! But he stayed 
 them up, even against themselves. Many a time 
 their foot had well-nigh slipped, but He in his 
 mercy, held them up; now, even in this life, they 
 know all He did was done well. It was good for 
 them to suffer, they "shall reign ; to bear the 
 cross, they shall wear the crown ; and not that 
 their will but His was done in them. 
 
 JOHN HENRY NEWMAN. 
 
 T)ALM Sunday is the anniversary- day of a 
 grand victory over life, as Easter Sunday is 
 of a like victory over death. . . . And so it is that 
 this day is sacred to us as the day on which the 
 Saviour turned of his own accord to death, entered 
 on the last and heaviest pain, bowed his head to 
 the thorns and his neck to the cross, gave his 
 cheek to the smiter, his soul to the agony, and his 
 life to the world. 
 
 . . . Over there is the great city and temple, 
 its roofs flashing like burnished gold in the sum- 
 mer sunlight, but full of men that hate him and 
 are determined to kill him whenever again he shall 
 enter its gates. There behind him is the house of 
 the sisters where he is so welcomed and honored 
 and loved. Away over to the North is dear 
 
LIFE'S VICTORIES, 43 
 
 old Galilee, where he wandered as a boy and 
 worked as a man. And why should he not turn 
 the head of his yearling round, go back to Beth- 
 any, rest and repair his wasted strength, and then 
 go to his old home and be quiet forevermore? 
 
 Ah, friends, when we know why, we know one 
 of the most inestimable secrets that ever found its 
 way into human souls; for then we know how 
 one little word of four letters, repeated in the quiet 
 of the soul, can outweigh all the pleading of the 
 nature for exemption from pain, all the longings 
 of the heart for the world's best blessings, all the 
 shrinking of the soul itself from the horrors of 
 great darkness, and can carry us through Geth- 
 semane and up Calvary and roll the great stone 
 away from the sepulchre and lift us through the 
 parting cloud ; and that small whispered word is 
 Duty, and its twin sister is Love. 
 
 And I know of nothing more fruitful of instruc- 
 tion than to imagine for a moment that he should 
 have yielded to the feeling that so straggled with 
 Duty as, soon after, to compel him to cry, " Father, 
 if it be possible, let this cup pass from me," and 
 so turn back to Bethany and Galilee and the old 
 quiet life again. What, then, must have been the 
 result? Let me remember it whenever nature 
 grapples with duty and tries to force her back to 
 
44 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 ease and quiet on my Palm Sunday. . . . Had it 
 been possible that the whisper of that one little 
 word should not be more than all beside to the 
 Messiah, there would have been no Messiah and 
 no Saviour. The most glorious things in this 
 world's history and life would have been a dead 
 blank. The infinite, the divine patience, the 
 words that have sunk into the world's heart, the 
 things that have renewed the world's life, had all 
 gone back with that retreating figure, and no such 
 light as rests there now, had rested on our graves, 
 and no shining ones sat there to tell us they are 
 empty of all but the graveclothes. The tenant 
 has risen and gone to the old home again (to our 
 Galilee) . Thank God, it could not be so ! The 
 sun shining overhead that Palm Sunday had sooner 
 turned back to his rising than Jesus had gone back 
 to Bethany. 
 
 But the lesson touches the heart as directly, 
 stands before us as imperiously, is as inevitable, as 
 if it could have been ; and it is this : suppose I 
 turn back when Duty whispers, Go right on ; sup- 
 pose sorrow and trial and pain, or the prospect of 
 it, masters me, what then? Then there is no 
 Palm Sunday in my calendar ; no shout for me of 
 " Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the 
 Lord!" In turning back, in shrinking back, in 
 
LIFE'S VICTORIES. 45 
 
 failing to face all I fear when that little word is 
 whispered in my soul, I leave that part of my life 
 which may be the very condition of immortality a 
 dead blank. ROBERT COLLYER. 
 
 r PHE world's supreme act of self-sacrifice was 
 serene and calm in the moment of its per- 
 formance ; anguished and awful in the moments 
 of its preparation. It was always in the intensity 
 of prayer that our Lord saw what the Father 
 willed him to do : and the natural weakness which 
 trembled and shrank was poured into the bosom 
 of the communing Comforter and replaced by his 
 strength, so that the real trial was over before the 
 outward occasion came ; and then no defeat was 
 possible, for every element of infirmity had been 
 brought to the Light in which is no darkness, and 
 before him had passed away. And thus forever 
 prayer remains the great duty of our nature, 
 whether in the times in which sadly and humbly 
 we resort to it as our refuge from the stupor or the 
 wilfulness of selfishness and sin, or in the times in 
 which we feel invited to communion, with the 
 rapture and delight of clear vision offered to us if 
 we will obey the call, and not shrink from the 
 glorifying effort to meet our God. 
 
 JOHN HAMILTON THOM. 
 
46 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 "V 7 OU may teach your child his prayers, and he 
 * shall say them with bended knee and reverent 
 lips, and you shall explain to him how God hears 
 and answers prayers, and he shall heed your coun- 
 sels, and go to church and join decorously in the 
 service, and be shocked and pained at irrever- 
 ence in others, and all the while have hardly yet 
 known what prayer is, until in some profound trial, 
 under some bitter bereavement, in some humilia- 
 ting or threatening exposure, in some awakening 
 throe of conscience, some shock of the intellect or 
 the will, the theorizer and second-hand saint finds 
 himself overboard and called to swim for his life, 
 no bladders under him, no fenced-in swimming- 
 bath around him, no life-boat near, nothing left 
 but the distant shore and his muscles, courage and 
 effort to reach it ! Then it is, when the soul cries 
 out for the living God, longs and faints for his 
 presence, and in its fierce struggle for life strikes 
 out with its spiritual limbs to reach its shore, that 
 faith is born ; that God's spirit comes under the 
 soul, like the bounding, elastic sea beneath the 
 trusting swimmer; that prayer becomes its own 
 interpreter, God his own witness, and the soul its 
 own teacher and way. 
 
 Experience is the inward light, and it will satisfy 
 
LIFE'S VICTORIES. 47 
 
 each soul in its own way. All eyes are not helped 
 in the same way; too much light blinds as cer- 
 tainly as too little ; but God puts a taper, a candle, 
 a star, a sun, a heaven of suns into the souls of his 
 children, just as they need or can bear more or 
 less. The glow-worm's light guides its mate as 
 well as the morning star guides the dawn. Not 
 what your soul, but what my soul needs, not 
 what would satisfy you, but what satisfies me, is 
 the heart's rightful demand ; and this is just what 
 religious experience, when it comes, gives to every 
 soul. 
 
 If people would only believe in just that little 
 original religious experience which each of them 
 possesses, if they would only trust the light that 
 lighteth every man that cometh into the world, 
 how soon they would find it increasing and shed- 
 ding ever more satisfying illumination on their 
 way. HENRY W. BELLOWS. 
 
 TN an old book of emblems of the fifteenth cen- 
 A tury, there is a device of the God of Love, not 
 blind but winged, and with a pair of dividers in 
 his hands, planting one point firmly on the centre, 
 and with the other free, preparing to sweep the 
 universe with his circle. Beneath is the legend, 
 " From one fixed point I include all." Is not this 
 
48 LEA VES OF HEALING. 
 
 a motto for the human soul? We have the start- 
 ing-place, the centre, the fixed point, in our per- 
 sonal experience, a mere spark of divine life it 
 may seem ; but the smallest soul has room for 
 that, and from that shining spark the possibilities 
 of infinite knowledge, infinite wisdom, infinite gain 
 in piety and truth, submit themselves to our 
 conquest. 
 
 Stand, then, on that central spot, your own relig- 
 ious experience ; give it not up to any summons ; 
 barter it not for any other possession ; suspect it 
 not for any challenge of others. But with your 
 soul opening and questful, one foot fixed and one 
 loose and free, step forward, widen the circle of 
 light, conquer the darkness, and finally hope to see 
 as you are seen, to know as you are known, and 
 to have all mysteries lost in fulness of light and 
 love. HENRY W. BELLOWS. 
 
 'IT 7 HAT then is our help ? How then shall we 
 reconcile ourselves to life ? Only by throw- 
 ing ourselves, as Christ did, when sorrows of this 
 kind came upon him, out of ourselves into love of 
 God, and into love of man. Again and again 
 when Jesus was half broken-hearted with the evil 
 which attacked him, he went into the wilderness 
 
LIFE'S VICTORIES. 49 
 
 or to the mountain top to pray alone, to realize 
 his union with the Father. In the very last and 
 bitterest sorrow, when even his best beloved could 
 not watch with him for one hour, he sought in the 
 olive garden communion with his Father. And 
 there, in utter loss of self, he found the peace 
 which carried him through a death inflicted by 
 those who hated him who died for them in love. 
 
 This is one secret of victory over suffering, 
 loss of self in love of God. 
 
 But that alone would not have been enough for 
 Jesus. For such solitary communion tends to 
 isolate us with ourselves. Jesus, and we with him, 
 must lose himself in communion with God through 
 work of love done to mankind. He passed from 
 his own trouble into active help, and forgot all 
 pain in the larger thoughts of what he might do to 
 heal and succor pain. I think some of us might 
 try that way. Trouble, anxiety, discontent, double 
 themselves by brooding on them ; they lessen to a 
 shred when we seek the anxious, the troubled and 
 the discontented, and lift them up, using our pain 
 to help their pain. It is by work of this kind that 
 the vast conception of mankind growing through 
 sorrow and sacrifice into union with God slowly 
 arises in us, and dwarfs in the end all our personal 
 distress. We live then in so glorious an idea that 
 4 
 
5O LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 we feel our life glorious. We prize the breath we 
 share with human kind, however painfully we draw 
 it; and at last, driven by pain to feel with the 
 pain of the world, learn the ineffable joy of that 
 forgetfulness of self in sympathy with others which 
 was the support, nay, even the rapture of Christ 
 upon the Cross ; which, touched for one moment 
 with the depth of agony, passed into that majestic 
 cry of peace and joy, " It is finished ; Father, into 
 thy hands I commend my spirit." 
 
 We may, with him, feel the very worst agony of 
 life, and know we can live no more. But if, in the 
 midst of it, we live in love, if still, for all the pain, 
 we lose ourselves, we shall win the last and crown- 
 ing joy of death for love. For God does not ask 
 us to live longer than we can. The hour comes 
 when death, our friend, releases us ; and then all 
 our long repression, all the forces of sorrowful 
 effort, all the noble pain, are transformed into the 
 expansion of the soul, into powers of joy, into the 
 inconceivable rapidity with which we live and 
 work in the life and labor of God. 
 
 STOPFORD A. BROOKE. 
 
 " T AM the True Vine," said our Lord, " and Ye, 
 
 J- My Brethren, are the Branches; " and that Vine 
 Then first uplifted in its place, and hung 
 With its first purple grapes, since then has grown, 
 
LIFE'S VICTORIES. 51 
 
 Until its green leaves gladden half the world, 
 And from its countless clusters rivers flow 
 For healing of the nations, and its boughs 
 Innumerable stretch through all the earth, 
 Ever increasing, ever each entwined 
 With each, all living from the Central Heart. 
 And you and I, my brethren, live and grow, 
 Branches of that immortal human Stem. 
 
 Let us consider now this life of the Vine 
 Whereof we are partakers : we shall see 
 Its way is not of pleasure nor of ease. 
 It groweth not like the wild trailing weeds 
 Whither it willeth, flowering here and there ; 
 Or lifting up proud blossoms to the sun, 
 Kissed by the butterflies, and glad for life, 
 And glorious in their beautiful array ; 
 Or running into lovely labyrinths 
 Of many forms and many fantasies, 
 Rejoicing in its own luxuriant life. 
 
 The flower of the Vine is but a little thing, 
 The least part of its life, you scarce could tell 
 It ever had a flower ; the fruit begins 
 Almost before the flower has had its day. 
 And as it grows, it is not free to heaven, 
 But tied to a stake ; and if its arms stretch out, 
 It is but crosswise, also forced and bound ; 
 And so it draws out of the hard hill-side, 
 Fixed in its own place, its own food of life ; 
 And quickens with it, breaking forth in bud, 
 
52 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 Joyous and green, and exquisite of form, 
 
 Wreathed lightly into tendril, leaf, and bloom. 
 
 Yea, the grace of the green vine makes all the land 
 
 Lovely in spring-time ; and it still grows on 
 
 Faster, in lavishness of its own life ; 
 
 Till the fair shoots begin to wind and wave 
 
 In the blue air, and feel how sweet it is. 
 
 But so they leave it not ; the husbandman 
 
 Comes early, with the pruning-hooks and shears, 
 
 And strips it bare of all its innocent pride, 
 
 And wandering garlands, and cuts deep and sure, 
 
 Unsparing for its tenderness and joy. 
 
 And in its loss and pain it wasteth not ; 
 
 But yields itself with unabated life, 
 
 More perfect under the despoiling hand. 
 
 The bleeding limbs are hardened into wood ; 
 
 The thinned-out bunches ripen into fruit 
 
 More full and precious, to the purple prime. 
 
 And still, the more it grows, the straighter bound 
 Are all its branches ; and as rounds the fruit, 
 And the heart's crimson comes to show in it, 
 And it advances to its hour, its leaves 
 Begin to droop and wither in the sun ; 
 But still the life-blood flows, and does not fail, 
 All into fruitfulness, all into form. 
 
 Then comes the vintage, for the days are ripe. 
 And surely now in its perfected bloom, 
 It may rejoice a little in its crown, 
 Though it bend low beneath the weight of it, 
 
LIFE'S VICTORIES. 53 
 
 Wrought out of the long striving of its heart. 
 
 But ah ! the hands are ready to tear down 
 
 The treasures of the grapes; the feet are there 
 
 To tread them in the wine-press, gathered in ; 
 
 Until the blood-red rivers of the wine 
 
 Run over, and the land is full of joy. 
 
 But the vine standeth stripped and desolate, 
 
 Having given all ; and now its own dark time 
 
 Is come, and no man payeth back to it 
 
 The comfort and the glory of its gift ; 
 
 But rather, now most merciless, all pain 
 
 And loss are piled together, as its days 
 
 Decline, and the spring sap has ceased to flow; 
 
 Now is it cut back to the very stem ; 
 
 Despoiled, disfigured, left a leafless stock, 
 
 Alone through all the dark days that shall come. 
 
 And all the winter time the wine gives joy 
 
 To those who else were dismal in the cold ; 
 
 But the vine standeth out amid the frost ; 
 
 And after all hath only this grace left, 
 
 That it endures in long, lone steadfastness 
 
 The winter through, and next year blooms again; 
 
 Not bitter for the torment undergone, 
 
 Not barren for the fulness yielded up ; 
 
 As fair and fruitful towards the sacrifice 
 
 As if no touch had ever come to it 
 
 But the soft airs of heaven and dews of earth, 
 
 And so fulfils itself in love once more. 
 
 And now what more shall I say ? 
 The Vine from every living limb bleeds wine ; 
 
54 LEA VES OF HEALING. 
 
 Is it the poorer for that spirit shed ? 
 Measure thy life by loss instead of gain ; 
 For love's strength standeth in love's sacrifice ; 
 And whoso suffers most hath most to give. 
 
 The living Vine, Christ chose it for himself : 
 God gave to man for use and sustenance 
 Corn, wine, and oil, and each of these is good : 
 And Christ is Bread of Life and Light of Life. 
 But yet he did not choose the summer corn, 
 That shoots up straight and free in one quick growth, 
 And has its day, and is done, and springs no more : 
 Nor yet the olive, all whose boughs are spread 
 In the soft air, and never lose a leaf, 
 Flowering and fruitful in perpetual peace : 
 But only this for him and his in one, 
 The everlasting, ever-quickening Vine, 
 That gives the heat and passion of the world, 
 Through its own life-blood, still renewed and shed. 
 
 UGO BASSI. 
 Rendered in English verse by HARRIET E. H. KING. 
 
 GOD did anoint thee with his odorous oil, 
 To wrestle, not to reign ; and he assigns 
 All thy tears over, like pure crystallines, 
 For younger fellow-workers of the soil 
 To wear for amulets. So others shall 
 Take patience, labor, to their heart and hand, 
 From thy hand, and thy heart, and thy brave cheer, 
 And God's grace fructify through thee to all. 
 
 ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING 
 
LIFE'S VICTORIES. $5 
 
 OMAY I join the choir invisible 
 Of those immortal dead who live again 
 In minds made better by their presence ; live 
 In pulses stirred to generosity, 
 In deeds of daring rectitude, in scorn 
 Of miserable aims that end with self, 
 In thoughts sublime that pierce the night like stars, 
 And with their mild persistence urge men's minds 
 To vaster issues. 
 
 May I reach 
 
 That purest heaven, be to other souls 
 The cup of strength in some great agony, 
 Enkindle generous ardor, feed pure love, 
 Beget the smiles that have no cruelty, 
 Be the sweet presence of a good diffused, 
 And in diffusion ever more intense ! 
 So shall I join the choir invisible, 
 Whose music is the gladness of the world. 
 
 GEORGE ELIOT. 
 
 T HAVE long looked at it as a most blessed 
 * compensation to our troubles that they teach 
 us how to sympathize with others ; yes, they teach 
 us what sympathy itself is. You may throw all 
 your heart into it, by every imagination, but, if it 
 have not actually pressed its hot and heavy hand 
 
56 LEA VES OF HEALING. 
 
 upon you, you cannot know what affliction is, you 
 cannot know the sympathy that starts quick within 
 one as he feels that another has come within the 
 great guild and mystery of grief; nor can your very 
 truest word give that something of nameless, unut- 
 terable support which comes from one who is 
 known to have been a sufferer. In every circle 
 you will find those who seem singled out, whose 
 society is craved, who get to be the ones sent for 
 and relied upon, not because of any eloquent 
 tongue, or much doing, or any special tact, but 
 because of the grace that is only of experience, 
 that teaches just what to do and when to forbear. 
 There are some faces on which sorrow has written 
 that which is more comforting than all beatitudes ; 
 some tones that have a music in them joy never 
 has ; some manners it would seem only angels 
 could wear; and all learned under the stern and 
 fiery, the purifying, elevating ministry of trouble, 
 the school in which souls are taught life's holiest 
 duties, and led into life's grandest issues. 
 
 But sympathy is no native gift; it is beyond 
 that. The finest feelings, the most exquisite 
 adapting of ourselves to others' standpoint, do not 
 give it. It is a thing of culture, and its crowning 
 culture is from sorrows ourselves have met and 
 have wisely borne. It is a divine gift and privi- 
 
LIFE'S VICTORIES. 57 
 
 lege, this power of sympathy ; and it has a divine 
 mission, divine in that it leads us among the 
 superior things, and shows us how we, too, may 
 handle the things that ally us with God. 
 
 JOHN F. W. WARE. 
 
 I WILL not let thee go until thou bless me. GEN. 
 xxxii. 26. 
 
DEATH'S MINISTRY. 
 
DEATH'S MINISTRY. 
 
 ALL things are yours, . . . whether life or death. 
 I COR. iii. 21, 22. 
 
 r PHERE is an " unseen universe " lying over 
 against and within that which is visible and 
 apparent to the senses. The outer, the visible, is 
 in a state of constant whirl and change ; it may be 
 resolved back into its original elements, or dis- 
 sipated in impalpable gases ; but the universe of 
 life and principles in which man finds his con- 
 sciousness, his freedom, his real self- hood, is not 
 and cannot be affected by any of these outer 
 changes. Man may sum up in himself all there is 
 of nature below him ; but this is not his full meas- 
 ure ; he is more ; he is a spirit ; he has a moral 
 nature ; he has free-will. And thus man, though 
 a part of nature, and with a body conditioned in 
 natural laws, has a something beyond this, and 
 hence he may give back his body to the earth, and 
 yet himself live on in his finer, his real world of 
 spirit. . . . 
 
62 LEA VES OF HEALING. 
 
 Life is a fact, a persistent energy, making pos- 
 sible and holding all there is in thought, in beauty, 
 in love, in joy. Death is a nonentity, a nothing ; 
 or only a passing phase, or an appearance. " God 
 is not the God of the dead but of the living " of 
 life; and hence, in the world of the real there is 
 no death. H. W. THOMAS. 
 
 \\ 7"E are, perhaps, too much in the habit of 
 ^ * thinking of death as the culmination of dis- 
 ease, which regarded only in itself, is an evil, and 
 a terrible evil. But I think rather of death as the 
 first pulse of the new strength, shaking itself free 
 from the old mouldy remnants of earth-garments, 
 that it may begin in freedom the new life that 
 grows out of the old. The caterpillar dies into 
 the butterfly. Who knows but disease may be the 
 coming of the keener life breaking into this, and 
 beginning to destroy, like fire, the inferior modes 
 or garments of the present? And thus disease 
 would be but the sign of the salvation of fire ; of 
 the agony of the greater life to lift us to itself, out 
 of that wherein we are failing and sinning. And 
 so we praise the consuming fire of life. 
 
 GEORGE MAC DONALD. 
 
DEATH'S MINISTRY. 63 
 
 "TVEATH had no bitterness. It was rather an 
 exhalation than a dissolution. Immortality 
 was not a tradition ; it was a personal assurance. 
 He lived in the glory of its promise, as plants live 
 in air. As the sunshine sleeps in the sods, so 
 heaven melted into his earth. 
 
 " To thee death was not 
 So much even as the lifting of a latch ; 
 Only a step into the open air, 
 Out of a tent already luminous 
 
 With light that shines through its transparent walls ! " 
 OCTAVIUS BROOKS FROTHINGHAM, 
 
 of WILLIAM HENRY CHANNING. 
 
 He quickeneth, but " He killeth : " blessed they 
 Who may abide in trust that final day / 
 
 TELALU-'D-'DIN, ER-RUMI, the saint of Balkh, 
 j the son 
 Of him surnamed " Flower of the Faith," this was a 
 
 chosen one, 
 To whom Death softly showed himself, Heaven's 
 
 gentle call to give ; 
 For what word is it bids us die, save that which made 
 
 us live ? 
 
 Sick lay he there in Konya ; 'twas dawn; the golden 
 
 stream 
 Of light, new springing in the east, on his thin lips did 
 
 gleam, 
 
64 LEA VES OF HEALING. 
 
 Those lips which spake the praise of God all through 
 
 his holy years, 
 And murmured now, with faith and hope unchanged, 
 
 the morning prayers. 
 
 Then one who watched beside his bed heard at the 
 
 inner gate 
 A voice cry, " Aftah ! ' Open ! ' from far I come, and 
 
 wait 
 To speak my message to Jelal, a message that will 
 
 bring- 
 Peace and reward to him who lies the Fdtihah 
 
 murmuring." 
 
 Thereat the watcher drew the bar which closed the 
 
 chamber-door, 
 Wondering and 'feared, for ne'er was heard upon this 
 
 earth before 
 Accents so sweet and comforting, nor ever eyes of 
 
 men 
 Saw presence so majestical as his who entered then. 
 
 Entered with gliding footsteps a bright celestial 
 
 youth, 
 Splendid and strange in beauty, past words to speak 
 
 its truth ; 
 Midnight is not so dark and deep as was his solemn 
 
 gaze, 
 By love and pity lighted, as the night with silvery 
 
 rays. 
 
DEATH'S MINISTRY. 65 
 
 'What is thy name?" the watcher asked, "that I 
 
 may tell my lord, 
 Thou fair and dreadful messenger, whose glance is as 
 
 a sword ; 
 Whose face is like the Heaven unveiled ; whose tender, 
 
 searching voice 
 Maketh the heart cease beating, but bids the soul 
 
 rejoice." 
 
 " AZRAEL ANA," spake the shape, " I am the Spirit of 
 Death ; 
 
 And I am sent from Allah's throne to stay thy mas- 
 ter's breath." 
 
 "Come in! come in! thou Bird of God," cried joy- 
 ously Jelal, 
 
 " Fold down thy heavenly plumes and speak ! Islam ! 
 what shall be, shall." 
 
 " Thou blessed one ! " the Angel said, " I bring thy 
 
 time of peace ; 
 When I have touched thee on the eyes, life's latest 
 
 ache will cease ; 
 God bade me come as I am seen amid the heavenly 
 
 host, 
 No enemy of awful mould, but he who loveth most." 
 
 " Dear Angel ! do what thou art bid," quoth Jelal, 
 
 smilingly, 
 " God willing, thou shalt find to-day a patient one in 
 
 me; 
 
 5 
 
66 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 Sweet is the cup of bitterness which cometh in such 
 
 wise ! " 
 With that he bowed his saintly brow, and Azrael 
 
 kissed his eyes. 
 
 Al-Mumit ! " Slayer ! " send him thus, 
 In love, not anger, unto its. 
 
 EDWIN ARNOLD. 
 From the ARABIC. 
 
 DEATH'S ANGEL. 
 
 COME with a smile r when come thou must, 
 Evangel of the world to be, 
 And touch and glorify this dust, 
 
 This shuddering dust that now is me, 
 And from this prison set me free ! 
 
 Long in those awful eyes I quail, 
 That gaze across the grim profound; 
 
 Upon that sea there is no sail, 
 Nor any light nor any sound 
 From the far shore that girds it round : 
 
 Only two still and steady rays 
 That those twin orbs of doom o'ertop ; 
 
 Only a quiet, patient gaze 
 
 That drinks my being, drop by drop, 
 And bids the pulse of nature stop. 
 
 Come with a smile, auspicious friend, 
 To usher in the eternal day ! 
 
DEATITS MINISTRY. 6/ 
 
 Of these weak terrors make an end, 
 And charm the paltry chains away 
 That bind me to this timorous clay ! 
 
 And let me know my soul akin 
 To sunrise and the winds of morn, 
 
 And every grandeur that has been 
 
 Since this all-glorious world was born, 
 Nor longer droop in my own scorn. 
 
 Come, when the way grows dark and chill ! 
 
 Come, when the baffled mind is weak, 
 And in the heart that voice is still, 
 
 Which used in happier days to speak, 
 
 Or only whispers, sadly meek. 
 
 Come with a smile that dims the sun I 
 With pitying heart and gentle hand! 
 
 And waft me, from a work that 's done, 
 To peace, that waits on thy command, 
 In some mysterious better land. 
 
 WILLIAM WINTER. 
 
 I SIT alone and watch the darkening years, 
 And all my heart grows dim with doubt and fear? 
 Till out of deepest gloom a Face appears ; 
 The only one of all that shineth clear. 
 
 Make white thy wedding-garments, O my soul ! 
 
 And sigh no longer for thy scanty dower ; 
 For if He loves thee, He will crown the whole 
 
 With nobler beauty and immortal power. 
 
68 LEA VES OF HEALING. 
 
 mighty Angel of the secret name ! 
 
 Come, for my heart doth answer thy All-hail ; 
 
 1 know thy clasp is like a wind of flame ; 
 I know that I shall perish, yet prevail. 
 
 Come with the new name and the mystic stone, 
 And speak so low that none shall hear the call. 
 
 O beautiful, beloved, and still unknown, 
 I ask Thee naught; Thy look hath promised all ! 
 
 CARL SPENCER. 
 
 MY soul is full of whispered song, 
 My blindness is my sight, 
 The shadows that I feared so long 
 Are all alive with light. 
 
 The while my pulses faintly beat, 
 
 My faith doth so abound, 
 I feel grow firm beneath my feet 
 
 The green, immortal ground. 
 
 The palace walls I almost see 
 
 Where dwells my Lord and King: 
 
 O grave, where is thy victory ! 
 O death, where is thy sting ! 
 
 ALICE GARY. 
 
 SONG OF THE SILENT LAND. 
 
 INTO the Silent Land ! 
 Ah ! who shall lead us thither ? 
 Clouds in the evening sky more darkly gather, 
 
DEATH'S MINISTRY. 69 
 
 And shattered wrecks lie thicker on the strand. 
 Who leads us with a gentle hand 
 Thither, O thither, 
 Into the Silent Land? 
 
 Into the Silent Land ! 
 
 To you, ye boundless regions 
 
 Of all perfection ! Tender morning-visions 
 
 Of beauteous souls ! The Future's pledge and band ! 
 
 Who in Life's battle firm doth stand, 
 
 Shall bear Hope's tender blossoms 
 
 Into the Silent Land ! 
 
 O Land ! O Land ! 
 
 For all the broken-hearted 
 
 The mildest herald by our fate allotted 
 
 Beckons, and with inverted torch doth stand 
 
 To lead us with a gentle hand 
 
 To the land of the great Departed, 
 
 Into the Silent Land ! 
 
 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 From the German of SALTS. 
 
 GOOD-NIGHT! NOT GOOD-BY." 
 
 SAW my Lady die ; 
 
 And he, who ofttimes cruel is, dark Death, 
 Was so deep sorrowful to stay her breath, 
 He came all clemency : 
 
 I 
 
7O LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 He would not let her know ; 
 So well he loved the bright soul he must take, 
 That for our grieving and her own fair sake 
 
 He hid his shaft and bow : 
 
 Upon her lips he laid 
 
 That " kiss of God " which kills but does not harm ; 
 With tender message, breathing no alarm, 
 
 He said, " Be unafraid ! " 
 
 Sorrow grew almost glad, 
 Pain half forgiven, parting well-nigh kind, 
 To mark how placidly my Lady's mind 
 
 Consented. Ready clad 
 
 In robes of unseen light 
 
 Her willing soul spread wing ; and, while she passed, 
 " Darling ! good-by ! " we moaned but she, at last, 
 
 Murmured, " No ! but good-night ! " 
 
 Good-night, then ! Sweetheart ! Wife ! 
 If this world be the dark time, and its morrow 
 Day-dawn of Paradise, dispelling sorrow, 
 
 Lighting our starless Life. 
 
 Good-night ! and not good-by ! 
 Good-night ! and best " Good-morrow ! " when we 
 
 wake; 
 Yet why so quickly tired ? Well, we must make 
 
 Haste to be done, and die ! 
 
DEATH'S MINISTRY. J\ 
 
 For dying has grown dear 
 
 Now you are dead, who turned all things to grace ; 
 We see Death made pale slumber on your face ; 
 
 Good-night ! But is dawn near ? 
 
 EDWIN ARNOLD. 
 
 IN SLEEP. 
 " He giveth his beloved (in) sleep" 
 
 NOT in our waking hours alone 
 His constancy and care are known ; 
 But locked in slumber fast and deep 
 He giveth to us while we sleep. 
 
 What giveth He ? From toil release. 
 Quiet from God, night's starlit peace ; 
 Till with the coming of the morn 
 We greet the day, like it new-born. 
 
 And pondering this mystery, 
 There came a larger truth to me, 
 How in the sleep that we call death 
 He sleepeth not nor slumbereth, 
 
 But still sustains the silent soul 
 Until the shadows backward roll, 
 And with the passing of the night 
 It wakens in immortal light ! 
 
 What giveth He ? No more again 
 To know the touch of mortal pain ; 
 
72 LEA VES OF HEALING. 
 
 All weakness past, each fetter riven, 
 For earth the larger life of Heaven ! 
 
 Dear friend, as o'er thy pallid face 
 The tall white lilies breathed their peace, 
 And stillness like a solitude 
 Enwrapt the tearful multitude, 
 
 How sweetly on that sea of calm 
 Floated the music of the psalm, 
 The Spirit's voice upon the deep, 
 " He giveth his beloved sleep ! " 
 
 Once more the sun with lavish hand 
 Pours lengthening day along the land ; 
 But not with spring-time bloom and bird 
 Thy smile returns, thy voice is heard : 
 
 Yet still we say the old-time words, 
 " In life, in death, we are the Lord's ; " 
 And trust thee to His love to keep 
 Who giveth to His own in sleep. 
 
 FREDERICK L. HOSMER. 
 
 " 'T is better to have loved and lost 
 Than never to have loved at all." 
 
 TDETTER because of our happy memories of 
 ^ past joys; better again, because our loss has 
 given us a deeper understanding of what true love 
 is. For love has three stages of growth : first and 
 most common is the selfish love that takes ; sec- 
 
DEATH'S MINISTRY. 73 
 
 ond, the unselfish love that gives ; and third, and 
 highest of all, the sanctified love that surrenders ; 
 which in pure self-sacrifice is willing for the 
 higher good of the loved one to forego the joy of 
 its presence. This is the holiest form of love, and 
 few are they who can attain it. Be it ours to 
 show that higher love that is willing to surrender 
 its dearest, so that He wills it. 
 
 CHARLES W. WENDTE. 
 
 TCE breaks many a branch, and so I see a great 
 many persons bowed down and crushed by 
 their afflictions. But now and then I meet one 
 that sings in affliction, and then I thank God for 
 my own sake as well as his. There is no such 
 sweet singing as a song in the night. You recol- 
 lect the story of the woman who, when her only 
 child died, in rapture looked up, as with the face of 
 an angel, and said, " I give you joy, my darling." 
 That single sentence has gone with me years and 
 years down through my life, quickening and com- 
 forting me. HENRY WARD BEECHER. 
 
 "P\EATH : have you ever wrestled with that 
 death- sorrow till you know its inner sweet- 
 ness? Sweetness greater than all, I would almost 
 say. The loss is loss. We say, perhaps, " It is 
 
74 LEA VES OF HEALING. 
 
 their gain," and wish to be willing. Our hurt gets 
 no relief. The days go by and the emptiness is 
 as empty, and the silence as silent, and the ache 
 as relentless in its pain. What shall we do? Our 
 friends look on and wish that they could help us. 
 And they know that help will come, because to 
 their own wrestling it once came. They know 
 that the heart of this pain is joy indeed. And if 
 you asked them how it came about in distress so 
 very sore as yours, their differing words will prob- 
 ably amount to this : that such pain can be stilled 
 in one way only, and that is by being more actively 
 unselfed, by doing more for others through one's 
 sadness, and trying hard to do simply right. It 
 takes a wrestle, yes ; but they will assure us as a 
 simple inward fact, whose chemistry they do not 
 pretend to understand, that the inner wards of 
 helpfulness and duty done at such a time deepen 
 and sweeten into something that almost seems a 
 new experience from its exceeding peace. It is 
 not time making us forget, nay, just the oppo- 
 site : we feel that this new peace is somehow vi- 
 tally connected with that pain; and at last we 
 come to think of them and feel them together. 
 And then we begin to call it peace and forget it 
 was pain; and by and by the hour in memory 
 which is our lingering place for quiet, happy 
 
DEATH'S MINISTRY. 75 
 
 thoughts, is the very one which is lighted by a 
 dear, dead face. It is our heaven-spot ; and, like 
 the fair city of the Apocalypse, it hath no need of 
 sun, for the glory of that face doth lighten it. 
 Perhaps, as life goes by, there will be more than 
 one of these green pastures with still waters in our 
 inner life. And this we shall then find out, that 
 each death-sorrow is itself unique, because each 
 life and love has been unique. And thus the very 
 highest and deepest and holiest of our experiences 
 in some way wear the likeness of those friends that 
 we have lost. WILLIAM C. GANNETT. 
 
 'T^HE next best thing to a great joy is a great 
 * grief. My sorrow is now the root of all that 
 any love in me, the source of all aspiration, the 
 stimulus to all good. I think I should not fear 
 for any one what is called " selfishness of grief." 
 If they have loved a noble soul, that influence will 
 surely raise them into sympathy, in time. It will 
 be sooner in some cases than in others, but it will 
 be, for love is life, and bereaved ones have no 
 personal life any more, nothing to wish for them- 
 selves ; they cannot choose but turn to the life of 
 others. It is one of the most benignant laws of 
 this world of ours. 
 
 STORY OF WILLIAM AND LUCY SMITH. 
 
76 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 ABSENCE. 
 
 WHAT shall I do with all the days and hours 
 That must be counted ere I see thy face ? 
 How shall I charm the interval that lo'wers 
 
 Between this time and that sweet time of grace. 
 
 I '11 tell thee : for thy 'sake, I will lay hold 
 Of all good aims, and consecrate to thee, 
 
 In worthy deeds, each moment that is told 
 While thou, beloved one, art far from me. 
 
 For thee, I will arouse my thoughts to try 
 
 All heavenward flights, all high and holy strains ; 
 
 For thy dear sake, I will walk patiently 
 
 Through these long hours, nor call their minutes 
 pains. 
 
 I will this weary blank of absence make 
 
 A noble task-time, and will therein strive 
 
 To follow excellence, and to o'ertake 
 
 More good than I have won since yet I live. 
 
 So may this darksome time build up in me 
 
 A thousand graces which shall thus be thine ; 
 
 So may my love and longing hallowed be, 
 
 And thy dear thought an influence divine. 
 
 FRANCES ANNE KEMBLE, 
 
DEATH'S MINISTRY. 77 
 
 r PHROUGH all the mysteries of our earthly lot, 
 *" we would feel ourselves embosomed in the 
 Infinite Strength and Peace. . . . Whether we walk 
 in the morning light, or in the night shadows, 
 over, around, and beneath us are spread the 
 Everlasting Arms. . . . How strong is the assur- 
 ance that what is bound up with our life, and 
 makes a dear part of our being, cannot be wholly 
 lost ; that it must answer to the love in which it is 
 more deeply than ever enshrined ! How real be- 
 comes the unseen world, no longer unfamiliar, but 
 warm with the treasures and light of home ! How 
 we look through its half-opened gates, into its glory 
 and its peace, where the innocence and beauty of 
 childhood must dwell in the life of which they are 
 the image ; and the ties that here seem broken 
 must be preserved in the love that made them 
 ours ; and the powers we would have trained here, 
 must be unfolded in the same care that inspired 
 our striving, and will not let it be in vain. 
 
 Nor would we forget that by this tranquil mys- 
 tery which we call death, we are brought the closer 
 to a sense of an infinite calm of unchangeable good 
 in which we must confide ; on whose bosom, with 
 our beloved that have fallen asleep therein, we can 
 rest, sure of compensations flowing from the Life 
 
78 LEA VES OF HEALING. 
 
 that can comprehend the depth of these affections 
 it has implanted, and the bitterness of earthly loss. 
 
 SAMUEL JOHNSON. 
 
 loving Care that folds in our little lives, 
 how near it comes when we need it most ! 
 I feel as if it held you now in a tenderness such as 
 none of us can know, and none know how to ask 
 for. "The night shall be light about you," calling 
 you to what trustlike sleep, bringing out holy, eter- 
 nal stars. ... I know that you will, more than 
 ever, know how to help the weak who faint amid 
 the mysteries of those laws of life we call death. 
 For only the uplifted face of one who has tasted 
 these waters and found them divine, can help such 
 to faith. Here in the border of the heavy loss, 
 and the change it is so hard to bring into the 
 daily ways of life, feel as much as you can, how 
 many hearts there are that would come and sit 
 with you, as near as they may, with their best 
 sympathy and faith. SAMUEL JOHNSON. 
 
 HE will swallow up Death in Victory. ISAIAH 
 xxv. 8. 
 
IMMORTALITY. 
 
IMMORTALITY. 
 
 I AM the resurrection, and the life : he that be- 
 lieveth on me, though he die, yet shall he live; and 
 whosoever liveth and believeth on me shall never die. 
 
 Verily, verily I say unto you, he that heareth my 
 word and believeth him that sent me, hath eternal life, 
 and cometh not into condemnation ; but hath passed 
 out of death into life. 
 
 And exercise thyself unto godliness ; for godliness 
 is profitable for all things, having promise of the life 
 which now is, and of that which is to come. 
 
 In the way of righteousness is life ; and in the path- 
 way thereof there is no death. 
 
 I 
 
 WITH uncovered head 
 
 Salute the sacred dead, 
 Who went, and who return not. Say not so ! 
 'T is not the grapes of Canaan that repay, 
 But the high faith that failed not by the way ; 
 Virtue treads paths that end not in the grave ; 
 No bar of endless night exiles the brave ; 
 
 And to the saner mind 
 We rather seem the dead that stay behind. 
 Blow, trumpets, all your exultations blow ! 
 6 
 
82 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 For never shall their aureoled presence lack : 
 I see them muster in a gleaming row, 
 With ever youthful brows that nobler show ; 
 We find in our dull road their shining track ; 
 
 In every nobler mood 
 We feel the orient of their spirit glow, 
 Part of our life's unalterable good, 
 Of all our saintlier aspiration ; 
 
 They come transfigured back, 
 Secure from change in their high-hearted ways, 
 Beautiful evermore, and with the rays 
 Of morn on their white Shields of Expectation ! 
 
 JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. 
 
 TV TAN is a creature of the future. In no manner 
 ^ is he simply a creature of the day. The 
 moment does not contain him. The curtain of the 
 night but ill conceals the next dawning. The 
 future is veiled only dimly; such light strikes 
 through, that man cries, " Behind the veil, behind 
 the veil ! " We are like restless children, eager 
 for the sunrise when some fond anticipation dis- 
 turbs their sleep. We are men standing by the 
 curtained future, and beholding behind the folds, 
 like the ancient Jew, the mercy-seat and the 
 cherubim. SILAS W. BUTTON. 
 
IMMORTALITY. 83 
 
 H^HE to-morrow of death is near because of the 
 * hopes that rest in that to-morrow. We live 
 another life in our life. Thought and hope and 
 love break through the barriers of death and live 
 on the further side. Aspiration rises on wings into 
 that realm beyond the barriers. Man is impatient 
 of more or fewer years, and while time is a laggard 
 and death delays^ leaps to mighty conclusions. 
 The sense of immortality stirs within his breast 
 and makes him uneasy with a great joy. He 
 reflects how out of dust and ashes aspiration may 
 not rise to transcend the truth, and how hope is a 
 divine pledge, and how virtue and praise and love 
 and joy cannot die ; how every worthy and high 
 principle that finds place in his being allies him to 
 a sweet mystery and commanding Power. 
 
 SILAS W. BUTTON. 
 
 'T^HE curtains of yesterday drop down, the 
 * curtains of to-morrow roll up ; but yesterday 
 and to-morrow both are. Pierce through the 
 Time-Element, glance into the Eternal. And 
 seest thou therein any glimpse of Immortality? 
 Is the white tomb of our loved one, who died from 
 our arms, and must be left behind us there, which 
 rises in the distance, like a pale, mournfully 
 
84 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 receding milestone, to tell how many toilsome, 
 uncheered miles we have journeyed on alone, 
 but a pale spectral illusion? Is our lost friend 
 still mysteriously here, even as we are here myste- 
 riously, with God ? Know of a truth that only the 
 Time-shadows have perished, or are perishable ; 
 that the real being of whatever was, and whatever 
 is, and whatever will be, is even now and forever. 
 
 THOMAS CARLYLE. 
 
 TT is a little thing in comparison to believe in 
 immortality. The great thing is to live as an 
 immortal. JOHN WEISS. 
 
 "\1 7"E talk of immortality ; but there is a better 
 phrase than that, the word of Jesus, 
 " Eternal Life." That implies not mere duration, 
 but quality. It blends the present and the future 
 in one. It sets before us a state into which we are 
 called to enter now, and into which as we enter 
 we find ourselves at home in our Father's house, 
 beyond the power of doubt and fear. 
 
 GEORGE S. MERRIAM. 
 
 TF the cup of life is full there is little sense of 
 
 past or future ; the present is enough. . . . 
 
 When Christ speaks of Eternal Life, he does not 
 
IMMORTALITY. 8$ 
 
 mean future endless existence ; this may be in- 
 volved, but it is an inference or secondary thought ; 
 he means instead fulness or perfection of life. 
 
 THEODORE T. MUNGER. 
 
 TF I were to construct one all-embracing argu- 
 * ment for immortality, and were to put it into 
 one word, it would be God. ... It was Christ's 
 realization of the living God that rendered his own 
 conviction of eternal life so absolute. 
 
 THEODORE T. MUNOER. 
 
 "\T TE must rest our hopes on what is deepest, 
 holiest, most divine within us; and on the 
 life and character and affirmations of those most 
 exalted specimens of our race who have had the 
 most unquestioning faith, connected with the least 
 disturbed, the least fanciful, and the least irra- 
 tional dispositions and qualities. Jesus, the calm- 
 est, sanest, purest, best of souls, the consummate 
 flower of humanity, affirmed our personal immor- 
 tality with undoubting, unqualified certainty. I 
 believe him, not chiefly because he rose from the 
 dead, but because he was all alive, immortal, living 
 on principle, and for ends that were eternal, from 
 the sermon on the mount to the words from the 
 cross. I have the witness in myself that he was 
 
86 LEA VES OF HEALING. 
 
 the Son of God ; his words find my inmost heart, 
 his affirmations evoke and clarify my own. " I 
 know that my Redeemer " namely God, for 
 these words were written ages before Christ ap- 
 peared " liveth, and in the latter day shall raise 
 me from the dead." Blessed festival, that cele- 
 brates a risen Saviour ! Though the tomb had kept 
 thy ashes, thy spirit could never have been holden 
 of death ! If thou wert so pure and instinct with 
 immortality that thy very dust was made heavenly 
 and flew to heaven with thy spirit, it shall not be 
 wholly incredible ! But we expect no such resurrec- 
 tion for our dust, and shall be only too glad to give 
 its worn and devitalized particles up to the earth. 
 But thy resurrection, thy spiritual triumph over 
 death, the spiritual trust in the soul's superiority to 
 the mere material clothing it here wears, thy 
 abounding confidence in the eternal destiny of our 
 moral and rational nature, the sacred prophecy of 
 our personality, the eternal unfolding of that bud 
 which can put on its higher beauties only under 
 the deathly frost that stains its leaves to heavenly 
 gold, this we welcome, this we lean on with our 
 whole spiritual weight, assured it cannot fail while 
 virtue, truth, the moral nature remain, and the 
 true and holy God lives in the eternal now and the 
 eternal forever ! HENRY W. BELLOWS. 
 
IMMORTALITY. 87 
 
 TT is indeed a faith which it needs such as Jesus 
 to instil. Those who knew him took it in and 
 made it real. For us, we drink at the same 
 fountain. The promise was not an empty prom- 
 ise ; and when the moment comes, when the 
 cloud opens and the heaven reveals itself, the 
 Comforter, who is the Holy Spirit, speaks to us. 
 It speaks to say that the world of God is larger 
 than this world of man. The Father of perfect 
 love is always training us for that larger life, and 
 those fuller powers. When he calls the careful 
 thinker who has exhausted earthly processes, or the 
 brave leader who has quickened a thousand thou- 
 sand lives, nay, the loving boy who has shown me 
 what the Kingdom of Heaven is, and what it is 
 like, or the unselfish mother whose life has been 
 all made up of help and blessing to those around 
 her, when God lifts these into a life unem- 
 bodied, and therefore unseen, he teaches me again 
 the lesson which Jesus was teaching always. Such 
 lives have larger sphere and duty ; for God's pur- 
 pose is larger than these cramped places and these 
 passing hours. Who lives as they have lived, and 
 with such faith as their faith, these never die. 
 
 EDWARD EVERETT HALE. 
 
88 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 "VTES ! earth grows the poorer, Heaven seems 
 * more desirable, when our loved ones have 
 gone before into the shadowy land. Shadowy, did 
 I say? Nay ! here is the shadowy, there the light 
 that blots out the radiance of the sun. Dark with 
 excess of brightness that higher world is, because 
 our eyes are so weak, our faith so dim. In this 
 ever-changing world of phenomena we seem 
 shadows pursuing shadows, like the rest. When we 
 reach that shore we shall know that truth, which is 
 God's thought, and love, which is his life, were the 
 only real things we had ever found. Will you not 
 live more for these, less for things that perish in 
 the using? HENRY WOODS FERRIS. 
 
 I FEEL the unutterable longing, 
 Thy hunger of the heart is mine ; 
 I reach and grasp for hands in darkness, 
 My ear grows sharp for voice or sign. 
 
 O friend, no proof beyond this yearning, 
 
 This outstretch of our hearts, we need; 
 God will not mock the hope He giveth, 
 
 No love He prompts shall vainly plead. 
 
 Then let us stretch our hands in darkness, 
 And call our loved ones o'er and o'er; 
 
 Some day their arms shall close about us, 
 And the old voices speak once more. 
 
 JOHN GREENI.EAF WHITTIER 
 
IMMORTALITY. 89 
 
 I CANNOT doubt that they whom you deplore 
 Are glorified ; or if they sleep shall wake 
 From sleep, and dwell with God in endless love. 
 Hope below this consists not with belief 
 In mercy, carried infinite degrees 
 Beyond the tenderness of human hearts : 
 Hope below this consists not with belief 
 In perfect wisdom, guiding mightiest power, 
 That finds no limits but its own pure will. 
 
 WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. 
 
 A N aureole signifies the artist's despair. He 
 ^^ paints his Madonna with his best art and 
 choicest colors. But when he has done all there 
 is a lack. The spiritual essence has eluded him ; 
 and in despair he encircles the head with a ring of 
 light, as if to say, Besides this there was the in- 
 effable beauty that cannot be represented on can- 
 vas. This ineffable beauty is a reality, none the 
 less real that it cannot be painted, and must be 
 represented by the aureole about the head. Think- 
 ing upon these intangible realities, thinking how 
 real are many things we cannot touch, gives me 
 my clearest faith in immortality. DAVID N. UTTER. 
 
 A LMOST any right feeling about this present 
 *^ life helps to rectify our feelings about the 
 future life. All our best moods feel immortal. 
 
go LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 Does ever a brave man lay down his life, and feel 
 it merely a mortal one ? I think not. For the good 
 soul in him will not let itself be thought of so. A 
 heart has only to be noble, and of itself it will fill 
 with faith. No martyr ever went the way of duty 
 and felt the shadow of death upon it. The shadow 
 of death is darkest in the valley, which men walk 
 in easily, and is never felt at all on a steep place, 
 like Calvary. Truth is everlasting, and so is every 
 lover of it ; and so he feels himself almost always. 
 "To die is nothing to being false. I feel death 
 like nothing at all ; and so it is nothing in itself, 
 most likely." In battle, let it be for his country 
 that a man stands up ; and his brave, noble soul 
 makes him feel that there is in him a life, that is 
 no more to be touched by cannon-balls than God 
 is, or than the Kingdom of Heaven is. 
 
 WILLIAM MOUNTFORD. 
 
 ATHANASIA. 
 
 THE ship may sink, 
 And I may drink 
 A hasty death in the bitter sea ; 
 But all that I leave 
 In the ocean-grave 
 Can be slipped and spared, and no loss to me. 
 
IMMORTALITY. 9 1 
 
 What care I, 
 
 Though falls the sky, 
 And the shrivelling earth to a cinder turn ? 
 
 No fires of doom 
 
 Can ever consume 
 What never was made nor meant to burn. 
 
 Let go the breath ! 
 
 There is no death 
 To the living soul, nor loss, nor harm. 
 
 Not of the clod 
 
 Is the life of God : 
 Let it mount, as it will, from form to form. 
 
 CHARLES G. AMES. 
 
 p OCKED in the cradle of the deep, 
 -i-V I lay me down in peace to sleep ; 
 Secure I rest upon the wave, 
 For Thou, O Lord ! hast power to save. 
 
 And such the trust that still were mine, 
 Though stormy winds swept o'er the brine, 
 Or though the tempest's fiery breath 
 Roused me from sleep to wreck and death. 
 
 For still I know that safe with Thee 
 The spirit of Thy child would be ; 
 And calm and peaceful is my sleep, 
 Rocked in the cradle of the deep. 
 
 EMMA HART WILLARD. 
 
92 LEA VES OF HEALING. 
 
 /r "PHE unresting floods move by Him also; the 
 sea is His, and He made it. I seem to my- 
 self more in his hand than ever when I drift in 
 that immensity where power is almost tangible, 
 and I can feel the liftings and fallings with which, 
 as if I were a child in arms, He tends me. If I 
 go down to the depths, He will go with me, and 
 instantly I shall be at the land whither I went, with 
 the face I waited for shining suddenly upon me. 
 
 What if He say to me, " Thou shalt not cross 
 this Jordan "? It will be that He shall bear me 
 over into the other Canaan and into the better 
 promise. MRS. A. D. T. WHITNEY. 
 
 I 
 
 F my bark sink, 't is to another sea. 
 
 WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNINO. 
 
 OIX feet of earth for my body, and the infinite 
 ^ heaven for my soul, is what I shall soon have. 
 
 ANNE DU BOURG 
 (at sight of the scaffold, and in presence of his executioners). 
 
 sorrowing son said to the dying Scotch 
 woman, " Is it dark, mother? " " Nay, nay, 
 laddie, it is light on the other side."- 
 
IMMORTALITY. 93 
 
 TDY faith Abraham, when he was called, obeyed, 
 to go out into a place which he was to receive 
 for an inheritance ; and he went out, not knowing 
 whither he went. By faith he became a sojourner 
 in the land of promise, as in a land not his own, 
 dwelling in tents, with Isaac and Jacob, the heirs 
 with him of the same promise ; for he looked for 
 the city which hath the foundations, whose builder 
 and maker is God. 
 
 These all died in faith, not having received the 
 promises, but having seen them and greeted them 
 from afar, and having confessed that they were 
 strangers and pilgrims on the earth. For they 
 that say such things make it manifest that they are 
 seeking after a country of their own. And if in- 
 deed they had been mindful of that country from 
 which they went out, they would have had oppor- 
 tunity to return. But now they desire a better 
 country, that is, a heavenly ; wherefore God is not 
 ashamed of them, to be called their God ; for he 
 hath prepared for them a city. HEBREWS xi. 
 
 He made life and He takes it but instead 
 Gives more; praise the Restorer, Al-Mu'Mdl 
 
 "E who died at Azan sends 
 This to comfort faithful friends. 
 
 H 1 
 
94 LEA VES OF HEALING. 
 
 Faithful friends ! it lies, I know, 
 Pale and white and cold as snow; 
 And ye say, " Abdullah 's dead ! " 
 Weeping at my feet and head. 
 I can see your falling tears, 
 I can hear your cries and prayers ; 
 Yet I smile, and whisper this : 
 " I am not that thing you kiss; 
 Cease your tears, and let it lie ; 
 It was mine, it is not I." 
 
 Sweet friends ! what the women lave, 
 For the last sleep of the grave, 
 Is a tent which I am quitting, 
 Is a garment no more fitting, 
 Is a cage from which, at last, 
 Like a bird my soul hath passed. 
 Love the inmate, not the room ; 
 The wearer, not the garb ; the plume 
 Of the eagle, not the bars 
 Which kept him from the splendid stars. 
 
 Loving friends ! be wise, and dry 
 Straightway every weeping eye; 
 What ye lift upon the bier 
 Is not worth a wistful tear. 
 'T is an empty sea-shell, one 
 Out of which the pearl is gone ; 
 The shell is broken, it lies there ; 
 The pearl, the all, the soul, is here. 
 'T is an earthen jar whose lid 
 Allah sealed, the while it hid 
 
IMMORTALITY. 95 
 
 That treasure of His treasury, 
 A mind which loved Him ; let it lie ! 
 Let the shard be earth's once more, 
 Since the gold shines in His store ! 
 
 Allah Mu'hid, Allah good ! 
 Now thy grace is understood ; 
 Now the long, long darkness ends, 
 Yet ye wail, my foolish friends, 
 While the man whom ye call " dead " 
 In unspoken bliss instead 
 Lives, and loves you ; lost, 't is true, 
 To the light which shines for you ; 
 But in light ye cannot see 
 Of unfulfilled felicity, 
 And enlarging paradise, 
 Lives the life that never dies. 
 
 Farewell, friends ! Yet not farewell ; 
 Where I am, ye too shall dwell. 
 I am gone before your face 
 A heart-beat's time, a gray ant's pace. 
 When ye come where I have stepped, 
 Ye will marvel why ye wept, 
 Ye will know, by true love taught, 
 That here is all, and there is naught. 
 Weep awhile, if ye are fain, 
 Sunshine still must follow rain ! 
 Only not at death, for death 
 Now I see is that first breath 
 Which our souls draw when we enter 
 Life, which is of all life centre. 
 
96 LEA VES OF HEALING. 
 
 Know ye Allah's law is love, 
 Viewed from Allah's Throne above: 
 Be ye firm of trust, and come 
 Bravely onward to your home ! 
 " La Allah ilia Allah ! Yea, 
 Mu'hid ! Restorer ! Sovereign ! " say ! 
 
 He who died at Azan gave 
 
 This to those who made his grave, 
 
 EDWIN ARNOLD. 
 
 From the ARABIC. 
 
 THE DESERTED HOUSE. 
 
 LIFE and Thought have gone away 
 Side by side, 
 
 Leaving door and windows wide : 
 Careless tenants they ! 
 
 All within is dark as night : 
 In the windows is no light ; 
 And no murmur at the door, 
 So frequent on its hinge before. 
 
 Close the door, the shutters close, 
 Or thro' the windows we shall see 
 The nakedness and vacancy 
 
 Of the dark deserted house. 
 
IMMORTALITY. 97 
 
 Come away : no more of mirth 
 
 Is here or merry-making sound. 
 The house was builded of the earth, 
 
 And shall fall again to ground. 
 
 Come away : for Life and Thought 
 Here no longer dwell ; 
 
 But in a city glorious 
 A great and distant city have bought 
 A mansion incorruptible. 
 Would they could have stayed with us ! 
 
 ALFRED TENNYSON. 
 
 GREEN PASTURES AND STILL WATERS. 
 
 CLEAR in memory's silent reaches 
 Lie the pastures I have seen, 
 Greener than the sun-lit spaces 
 
 Where the May has flung her green : 
 Needs no sun and needs no starlight 
 
 To illume these fields of mine, 
 For the glory of dead faces 
 
 Is the sun, the stars, that shine. 
 
 More than one I count my pastures 
 
 As my life-path groweth long ; 
 By their quiet waters straying 
 
 Oft I lay me, and am strong. 
 And I call each by its giver, 
 
 And the dear names bring to them 
 Glory as from shining faces 
 
 In some New Jerusalem. 
 7 
 
98 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 Yet, O well I can remember, 
 
 Once I called my pastures, Pain, 
 And their waters were a torrent 
 
 Sweeping through my life amain ! 
 Now I call them Peace and Stillness, 
 
 Brightness of all Happy Thought, 
 Where I linger for a blessing 
 
 From my faces that are nought. 
 
 Nought ? I fear not. If the Power 
 
 Maketh thus his pastures green, 
 Maketh thus his quiet waters, 
 
 Out of waste his heavens serene, 
 I can trust the mighty Shepherd 
 
 Loseth none he ever led ; 
 Somewhere yet a greeting waits me 
 
 On the faces of my dead ! 
 
 WILLIAM C. GANNETT. 
 
 MY DEAD. 
 
 I CANNOT think of them as dead 
 Who. walk with me no more ; 
 Along the path of life I tread 
 They have but gone before. 
 
 The Father's house is mansioned fair 
 
 Beyond my vision dim ; 
 All souls are his, and here or there 
 
 Are living unto him. 
 
IMMORTALITY. 99 
 
 And still their silent ministry 
 
 Within my heart hath place, 
 As when on earth they walked with me 
 
 And met me face to face. 
 
 Their lives are made forever mine ; 
 
 What they to me have been 
 Hath left henceforth its seal and sign 
 
 Engraven deep within. 
 
 Mine are they by an ownership 
 
 Nor time nor death can free ; 
 For God hath given to Love to keep 
 
 Its own eternally. 
 
 FREDERICK L. HOSMER. 
 
 A REQUIEM. 
 
 INTO the eternal shadow 
 That girds our life around, 
 Into the infinite silence 
 
 Wherewith Death's shore is bound, 
 Thou hast gone forth, beloved ! 
 And I were mean to weep, 
 That thou hast left Life's shadows, 
 And dost possess the Deep. 
 
 Now I can see thee clearly; 
 
 The dusky cloud of clay, 
 That hid thy starry spirit, 
 
 Is rent and blown away : 
 
100 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 To earth I give thy body, 
 
 Thy spirit to the sky, 
 I saw its bright wings growing, 
 
 And knew that thou must fly. 
 
 Now I can love thee truly, 
 
 For nothing comes between 
 The senses and the spirit, 
 
 The seen and the unseen ; 
 Lifts the eternal shadow, 
 
 The silence bursts apart, 
 And the soul's boundless future 
 
 Is present in my heart. 
 
 JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. 
 
 I 
 
 SHALL clasp thee again, O soul of my soul, 
 And with God be the rest. 
 
 ROBERT BROWNING. 
 
 AND, O beloved voices, upon which 
 Ours passionately call, because erelong 
 Ye brake off in the middle of that song 
 We sang together softly, to enrich 
 The poor world with the sense of love, and witch 
 The heart out of things evil I am strong, 
 Knowing ye are not lost for aye. . . . 
 
 God keeps a niche 
 
 In heaven to hold our idols : and albeit 
 He brake them to our faces, and denied 
 That our close kisses should impair their white 
 
IMMOR TALITY. I O I 
 
 I know we shall behold them raised, complete, 
 The dust swept from their beauty, glorified 
 New Memnons singing in the great God-light. 
 
 ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING. 
 
 GOD does not send us strange flowers every year. 
 When the spring blows o'er the pleasant places 
 The same dear things lift up the same fair faces ; 
 The violet is here. 
 
 It all comes back, the odor, grace, and hue ; 
 
 Each sweet relation of its life repeated ; 
 
 No blank is left ; no looking for is cheated ; 
 It is the thing we knew. 
 
 So after the death-winter it must be 
 
 God will not put strange signs in the heavenly 
 
 places ; 
 
 The old love shall look out from the old faces. 
 Veilchen ! I shall have thee ! 
 
 MRS. A. D. T. WHITNEY. 
 
 I 
 
 S it well with the child ? And she answered, It 
 is well. 2 KINGS iv. 26. 
 
 A GREATER love than yours watched over him 
 ^ and has taken him away. Why he was 
 taken in the dawn of his being we cannot tell. 
 The secrets of that world into which he has en- 
 tered can alone explain it. Our world does not 
 seem to have been intended for the education of 
 
IO2 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 all. To many it is only a birthplace. They are 
 born to be translated, to receive their education 
 elsewhere. Can we not trust our loving Father 
 to choose the place where his children shall be 
 trained? Is it not enough that they are in his 
 hands? WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING. 
 
 LIFTED OVER. 
 
 AS tender mothers guiding baby steps, 
 Where places come at which the tiny feet 
 Would trip, lift up the little ones in arms 
 Of love, and set them down beyond the harm, 
 So did our Father watch the precious boy, 
 Led o'er the stones by me, who stumbled oft 
 Myself, but strove to help my darling on : 
 He saw the sweet limbs faltering, and saw 
 Rough ways before us, where my arms would fail ; 
 So reached from heaven, and lifting the dear child, 
 Who smiled in leaving me, he put him down, 
 Beyond all hurt, beyond my sight, and bade 
 Him wait for me ! Shall I not then be glad, 
 
 And, thanking God, press on to overtake ? 
 
 H. H. 
 
 SADNESS AND GLADNESS. 
 
 'T^HERE was a glory in my house, 
 JL And it is fled ; 
 
 There was a baby at my heart, 
 And it is dead. 
 
IMMORTALITY. 103 
 
 And when I sit and think of him, 
 
 I am so sad, 
 That half it seems that never more 
 
 Can I be glad. 
 
 If you had known this baby mine, 
 
 He was so sweet 
 You would have gone a journey just 
 
 To kiss his feet. 
 
 You cannot think how many things 
 
 He learned to know 
 Before the swift, swift angel came, 
 
 And bade him go. 
 
 But should you ask me how it is 
 
 That yours can stay, 
 Though mine must spread his little wings 
 
 And fly away, 
 
 I could but say that God, who made 
 
 This heart of mine, 
 Must have intended that its love 
 
 Should be the sign 
 
 Of His own love ; and that if He 
 
 Can think it right 
 To turn my joy to sorrow, and 
 
 My day to night, 
 
 I cannot doubt that He will turn, 
 
 In other ways, 
 My winter darkness to the light 
 
 Of summer days. 
 
IO4 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 I know that God gives nothing to 
 
 Us for a day ; 
 That what He gives He never cares 
 
 To take away. 
 
 And when He comes and seems to make 
 
 Our glory less, 
 It is that, by and by, we may 
 
 The more confess 
 
 That He has made it brighter than 
 
 It was before, 
 A glory shining on and on 
 
 For evermore. 
 
 And when I sit and think of this, 
 
 I am so glad, 
 That half it seems that never more 
 
 Can I be sad. 
 
 JOHN W- CHADWICK. 
 
 OD lent him and takes him," you sigh ! 
 
 Nay, there let me break with your pain ; 
 God 's generous in giving, say I 
 And the thing which He gives, I deny 
 That He ever can take back again. 
 
 He 's ours and forever. Believe, 
 
 O father ! O mother, look back 
 To the first love's assurance. To give 
 Means with God not to tempt or deceive 
 With a cup thrust in Benjamin's sack. 
 
IMMORTALITY. 10$ 
 
 He gives what He gives. Be content! 
 
 He resumes nothing given be sure ! 
 God lend ? Where the usurers lent 
 In His temple, indignant He went 
 
 And scourged away all those impure. 
 
 He lends not ; but gives to the end, 
 As He loves to the end. Jf it seem 
 
 That He draws back a gift, comprehend 
 
 'T is to add to it rather amend, 
 And finish it up to your dream ; 
 
 Or keep, as a mother may toys 
 
 Too costly, though given by herself, 
 Till the room shall be stiller from noise, 
 And the children more fit for such joys, 
 Kept over their heads on the shelf. 
 
 So look up, friends ! you, who indeed 
 
 Have possessed in your house a sweet piece 
 Of the Heaven which men strive for, must need 
 Be more earnest than others are speed 
 Where they loiter, persist where they cease. 
 
 You know how one angel smiles there. 
 
 Then courage ! 'T is easy for you 
 To be drawn by a single gold hair 
 Of that curl, from earth's storm and despair 
 
 To the safe place above us. Adieu. 
 
 ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING. 
 
IO6 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 THE ALPINE SHEEP. 
 
 WHEN on my ear your loss was knelled, 
 And tender sympathy upburst, 
 A little spring from memory welled 
 
 Which once had quenched my bitter thirst; 
 
 And I was fain to bear to you 
 
 A portion of its mild relief, 
 That it might be as cooling dew 
 
 To steal some fever from your grief. 
 
 After our child's untroubled breath 
 
 Up to the Father took its way, 
 And on our home the shade of death 
 
 Like a long twilight haunting lay, 
 
 And friends came round with us to weep 
 
 The little spirit's swift remove 
 This story of the Alpine sheep 
 
 Was told to us by one we love. 
 
 They, in the valley's sheltering care, 
 Soon crop their meadow's tender prime, 
 
 And when the sod grows brown and bare, 
 The shepherd strives to make them climb 
 
 To airy shelves of pasture green 
 That hang along the mountain side, 
 
 Where grass and flowers together lean, 
 
 And down through mists the sunbeams glide. 
 
IMMORTALITY. 1 07 
 
 But nought can lure the timid things 
 The steep and rugged path to try ; 
 
 Though sweet the shepherd calls and sings, 
 And seared below the pastures lie ; 
 
 Till in his arms their lambs he takes, 
 
 Along the dizzy verge to go, 
 When, heedless of the rifts and breaks, 
 
 They follow on o'er rock and snow. 
 
 And in those pastures lifted fair, 
 More dewy soft than lowland mead, 
 
 The shepherd drops his tender care, 
 And sheep and lambs together feed. 
 
 This parable by nature breathed, 
 Blew on me as the south wind free 
 
 O'er frozen brooks that float unsheathed 
 From icy thraldom to the sea. 
 
 A blissful vision through the night 
 Would all my happy senses sway, 
 
 Of the good shepherd on the height, 
 Or climbing up the starry way, 
 
 Holding our little lamb asleep 
 
 And like the burden of the sea 
 Sounded that voice along the deep, 
 
 Saying, " Arise, and follow me ! " 
 
 MARIA WHITE LOWELL. 
 
IO8 LEA VES OF HEALING. 
 
 A YEAR IN HEAVEN. 
 
 AYE AR in heaven for her, what is she learning 
 Of holy things, of things divine and true ? 
 What glorious visions there are still unfolding 
 Which here she never knew ? 
 
 Did angel friends await her at her coming? 
 Did angel faces greet her with a smile ? 
 Were all the dear ones eager to receive her 
 Whom she had lost awhile? 
 
 And has she seen the loving, blessed Jesus, 
 Sat at his feet or felt his fond embrace ? 
 Or even can it be that she is able 
 To see the Father's face ? 
 
 A year on earth for us without her presence, 
 A year of loneliness and grief and pain ; 
 But still we smile amid our tears, in thinking 
 Our loss is but her gain. 
 
 We miss her in our joys and in our sorrows : 
 She was our life, our centre, and our sun. 
 And yet we would not call her back, but whisper, 
 " O God, thy will be done ! " 
 
 A year in heaven for her, of rest and blessing : 
 
 For us a year on earth, with her above. 
 
 But heaven and earth are both together blending, 
 
 And over all is Love ! 
 
 M. L. D. 
 
IMMOR TALITY. \ 09 
 
 THE GATHERING PLACE. 
 
 I KNOW not where, beneath, above, 
 The gathering place so wonderful, 
 But all who fill our life with love, 
 
 Go forth to make it beautiful. 
 Oh, rich with all the wealth of grace, 
 Oh, bright with many a holy face, 
 Is that exalted meeting place. 
 
 With passing months it comes more near, 
 
 It grows more real day by day ; 
 Not strange or cold, but very dear, 
 
 The glad home-land not far away ! 
 Where no sea toucheth, making moan, 
 Where none are poor, or sick, or lone, 
 The place where we shall find our own. 
 
 And as we think of all we knew, 
 
 Who there have met, and part no more, 
 Our longing hearts desire home, too, 
 With all the strife and trouble o'er. 
 So poor this world, now they have gone, 
 We scarcely dare to think upon 
 The years before our rest is won. 
 
 And yet our Father knoweth best, 
 The joy or sadness that we need, 
 
 The time when we may take our rest 
 And be from sin and sorrow freed. 
 
IIO LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 So we will wait with patient grace, 
 Till in that blessed gathering place, 
 We meet our friends and see His face. 
 
 ANON. 
 
 I LONG for household voices gone, 
 For vanished smiles I long, 
 But God hath led my dear ones on, 
 And he can do no wrong. 
 
 I know not what the future hath 
 
 Of marvel or surprise, 
 Assured alone that life and death 
 
 His mercy underlies. 
 
 And if my heart and flesh are weak 
 
 To bear an untried pain, 
 The bruised reed He will not break, 
 
 But strengthen and sustain. 
 
 And so beside the Silent Sea 
 
 I wait the muffled oar ; 
 No harm from Him can come to me 
 
 On ocean or on shore. 
 
 I know not where His islands lift 
 
 Their fronded palms in air ; 
 I only know I cannot drift 
 
 Beyond His love and care. 
 
 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTTER. 
 
IMMOR TALITY. 1 1 1 
 
 WHAT is there beyond ? 
 Hear what the wise and good have said. Beyond 
 That belt of darkness, still the Years roll on 
 More gently, but with not less mighty sweep. 
 They gather up again and softly bear 
 All the sweet lives that late were overwhelmed 
 And lost to sight, all that in them was good, 
 Noble, and truly great, and worthy of love 
 The lives of infants and ingenuous youths, 
 Sages, and saintly women who have made 
 Their households happy ; all are raised and borne 
 By that great current in its onward sweep, 
 Wandering and rippling with caressing waves 
 Around green islands with the breath 
 Of flowers that never wither. So they pass 
 From stage to stage along the shining course 
 Of that bright river, broadening like a sea. 
 As its smooth eddies curl along their way 
 They bring old friends together ; hands are clasped 
 In joy unspeakable ; the mother's arms 
 Again are folded round the child she loved 
 And lost. Old sorrows are forgotten now, 
 Or but remembered to make sweet the hour 
 That overpays them ; wounded hearts that bled 
 Or broke are healed forever. In the room 
 Of this grief-shadowed present, there shall be 
 A Present in whose reign no grief shall gnaw 
 The heart, and never shall a tender tie 
 
112 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 Be broken ; in whose reign the eternal Change 
 That waits on growth and action shall proceed 
 With everlasting Concord hand in hand. 
 
 WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. 
 
 NO seas again shall sever, 
 No desert intervene, 
 No deep sad-flowing river 
 
 Shall roll its tide between. 
 Love and unsevered union 
 
 Of soul with those we love, 
 Nearness and glad communion, 
 Shall be our joy above. 
 
 No dread of wasting sickness, 
 
 No thought of ache or pain, 
 No weary hours of weakness, 
 
 Shall mar our peace again. 
 No death, our homes o'ershading, 
 
 Shall e'er our harps unstring ; 
 For all is life unfading 
 
 In presence of our King. 
 
 HORATIUS BONAR. 
 
 TN what body do they come? not in the body of 
 
 flesh and blood. Rather is it reasonable to 
 
 suppose that, as there is a natural body and also a 
 
 spiritual body, so the latter, or its immortal germ, 
 
IMMOR TALITY. 1 1 3 
 
 is even now tabernacling in the former ; and that 
 at death it is disengaged from its companion clay, 
 and stands forth at once unharmed by fire or 
 sword, by accident or disease, its texture and 
 organization finer and more delicate than we can 
 now conceive. And this is the resurrection. Nor 
 in the " house from heaven " with which the soul 
 is thus " clothed upon," does it lose for a moment 
 its sure identity. Character gives to these earthly 
 lineaments its own appropriate moral expression. 
 More fully yet shall it shine through and reveal 
 itself in the spiritual countenance. 
 
 ALFRED P. PUTNAM. 
 
 T ET not your heart be troubled ; ye believe in 
 God, believe also in me. In my Father's 
 house are many mansions; if it were not so, I 
 would have told you ; for I go to prepare a place 
 for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, 
 I come again, and will receive you unto myself; 
 that where I am, there ye may be also. 
 
 Peace I leave with you ; my peace I give unto 
 you : not as the world giveth, give I unto you. 
 Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be 
 afraid. 
 
 If ye loved me ye would have rejoiced, because 
 I go unto the Father. 
 
 8 
 
1 14 LEA VES OF HEALING. 
 
 Ye now have sorrow : but I will see you again, 
 and your heart shall rejoice, and your joy no one 
 taketh away from you. 
 
 These things have I spoken unto you, that in 
 me ye may have peace. JESUS. 
 
 OH, for the peace that floweth as a river, 
 Making life's desert places bloom and smile ; 
 Oh, for that faith to grasp the glad Forever, 
 Amid the shadows of earth's little while ! 
 
 A little while for patient vigil keeping, 
 To face the storm, to wrestle with the strong; 
 
 A little while to sow the seed with weeping, 
 
 Then bind the sheaves and sing the harvest song ; 
 
 A little while to wear the veil of sadness, 
 To toil with weary step through miry ways, 
 
 Then to pour forth the fragrant oil of gladness, 
 And clasp the girdle round the robe of Praise ; 
 
 A little while, 'mid shadow and illusion, 
 To strive by faith love's mysteries to spell, 
 
 Then read each dark enigma's bright solution, 
 Then hail sight's verdict, He doth all things well ; 
 
 A little while the earthen pitcher taking 
 
 To wayside brooks, from far-off mountains fed, 
 
 Then the cool lip its thirst forever slaking 
 Beside the fulness of the Fountain-head ; 
 
IMMOR TALITY. 1 1 5 
 
 A little while to keep the oil from failing, 
 A little while faith's flickering lamp to trim, 
 
 And then the Bridegroom's coming footsteps hailing, 
 To haste to meet him with the bridal hymn. 
 
 And he who is himself the Gift and Giver, 
 The future glory, and the present smile, 
 
 With the bright promise of the glad Forever 
 Will light the shadows of earth's little while. 
 
 HORATIUS BONAR. 
 
 COME to me, thoughts of heaven, 
 My fainting spirit bear 
 On your bright wings, by morning given, 
 Up to celestial air. 
 
 Away, far, far away, 
 From thoughts by passion given, 
 Fold me in blue, still, cloudless day, 
 O blessed thoughts of heaven ! 
 
 Come in my tempted hour, 
 Sweet thoughts, and yet again 
 O'er sinful wish and memory shower 
 Your soft, effacing rain ; 
 
 Waft me where gales divine 
 With dark clouds ne'er have striven, 
 Where living founts forever shine, 
 O blessed thoughts of heaven ! 
 
 FELICIA D. HEMANS 
 
Il6 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 1 RAISE 
 
 The song of thanks and praise 
 For those obstinate questionings 
 Of sense and outward things, 
 Fallings from us, vanishings ; 
 Blank misgivings of a creature 
 Moving about in worlds not realized, 
 High instincts, before which our mortal nature 
 Did tremble, like a guilty thing surprised ! 
 For those rich affections, 
 Those shadowy intimations, 
 
 Which, be they what they may, 
 Are yet the fountain light of all our day, 
 Are yet a master light of all our seeing ; 
 
 Uphold us cherish and have power to make 
 Our noisy years seem moments in the being 
 Of the eternal silence : truths that wake, 
 
 To perish never ; 
 Which neither listlessness, nor mad endeavor, 
 
 Nor man nor boy, 
 Nor all that is at enmity with joy, 
 Can utterly abolish or destroy ! 
 
 Hence, in a season of calm weather, 
 
 Though inland far we be, 
 Our souls have sight of that immortal sea 
 
 Which brought us hither; 
 Can in a moment travel thither, 
 And see the children sport upon the shore, 
 And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore. 
 
IMMORTALITY. 1 1 7 
 
 Thanks to the human heart by which we live ; 
 Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears ; 
 To me the meanest flower that blows can give 
 Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears. 
 
 WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. 
 
 "DEHOLD what manner of love the Father hath 
 ^ bestowed upon us, that we should be called 
 children of God. 
 
 I shall be satisfied when I awake with thy 
 likeness. 
 
 Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have 
 entered into the heart of man, the things which 
 God hath prepared for them that love him. 
 
 NEED it is we raise our eyes 
 Up from earth towards the skies ; 
 Thinking of the souls that rest 
 In the mansions of the blest ; 
 Lest we faint in our distress, 
 Through exceeding heaviness. 
 
 Thee in them, O Lord most high, 
 Them in Thee we glorify : 
 Noble athletes, that went home 
 Through the sea of martyrdom ; 
 And the saints, through toil and shame 
 Brave confessors of thy name. 
 
Il8 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 Glory, Lord, to Thee alone, 
 Who hast glorified thine own ; 
 For their zeal, their truth, their sighs, 
 Prayerful hearts and tearful eyes, 
 Faithful lips and fearless breast, 
 Love and beauty, toils and rest ! 
 
 Let their praises, heavenly King, 
 Let the blessed hymn they sing, 
 Some, though faintest, echo gain 
 In our own poor broken strain; 
 Till one day shall join all powers 
 In one anthem, theirs and ours. 
 
 JOHN MASON NEALE. 
 
 FOR all the saints, who from their labors rest, 
 Who thee by faith before the world confessed, 
 Thy name, O God, shall be forever blessed. 
 
 Thou wast their Rock, their Fortress, and their 
 
 Might ; 
 
 Their Strength and Shield in all the well-fought fight ; 
 Thou, in the darkness, still the Light of light. 
 
 O blest Communion, fellowship divine! 
 We feebly struggle, they in glory shine ; 
 Yet all are one in Thee, for all are Thine. 
 
 WILLIAM WALSHAM How 
 
IMMOR TALITY. 1 1 9 
 
 QOMETIME and Somewhere shall we walk 
 O Clear of earth in high places ; 
 Sometime and somewhere shall we talk 
 With our hearts in our faces ; 
 
 And see all the meaning writ clear, 
 
 The depth and the sweetness, 
 Apart from this doubt and this fear, 
 
 This sad incompleteness. 
 
 NORA PERRY. 
 
 WHAT is excellent, 
 As God lives, is permanent ; 
 Hearts are dust, hearts' loves remain ; 
 Heart's love will meet thee again. 
 
 RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 
 
 OF those whom thou hast given me I have not lost 
 
 one. 
 
 JESUS. 
 
THE FAMILY ON EARTH AND IN 
 HEAVEN. 
 
THE FAMILY ON EARTH AND IN 
 HEAVEN. 
 
 Lo ! at length the True Light, light for every man 
 born into the world ; kindling the faces of them that 
 receive it, till they become the sons of God. 
 
 No longer is the dwelling of Eternal Life too bright 
 above, and the perishable world too dark below. Thou 
 hast made one family, there and here ; one living com- 
 munion of seen and unseen. CANTICLES. 
 
 Lo ! I am with you alway, even unto the end of the 
 world. 
 
 Where two or three are gathered together in my 
 name, there am I in the midst of them. JESUS. 
 
 T THINK we do not begin to realize as we ought 
 what ministries cluster round our life, to aid 
 us in being what we may be, angels, angels, 
 every one, thick about us every day, bearing us in 
 their hands, and lifting us up when we are fallen. 
 Their faces gladden us when we do well, and grow 
 very sad at us when we sin. Ay, and in some way 
 
124 THE FAMILY ON EARTH 
 
 those that we think of and speak of as in heaven 
 love us still with all the old love of earth and all 
 the new love of heaven together. So, because 
 they love us still, we are still one, our souls are in 
 theirs and they in ours. We touch hands in spirit, 
 and the light that is not the light of the sun covers 
 and enfolds us all. ROBERT COLLYER. 
 
 IV TAN, in the great plan of Providence, is not 
 *'* transferred from one sphere of being into 
 another. Rather is he brought into conscious re- 
 lations to a higher and yet higher sphere, by the 
 successive development of his original powers. 
 . . . The spiritual world is not a realm far off in 
 space, into which we shall be introduced by the 
 event of death. Rather is it that order of being 
 of which we are to have cognizance by the powers 
 that already wait within us, and death will not so 
 much remove us, as remove from us the obstruc- 
 tions that closed us in from its unseen illumina- 
 tions. . . . Was the spot where the patriarch slept 
 indeed more holy than other places, and was the 
 bush of Moses the only symbol of angelic ministra- 
 tions ? Or rather could we see as they saw, would 
 not every spot be holy, and all nature seem aglow 
 with those activities which run from the spiritual 
 
AND IN HEAVEN. 
 
 world into the natural? Was the Saviour of men 
 an example in temptation only, or was he not 
 also our example in victory, revealing unto us 
 those heavenly auxiliaries that work with us and 
 strengthen us as we toil up the hill of Difficulty 
 toward the regions of Peace ? And on the mount 
 of transfiguration, was the change in him, so that 
 he appeared as never before, or was it in his dis- 
 ciples, so that they saw him as he always had been, 
 living in two worlds, walking on the earth, and yet 
 " the son of man who is in heaven," talking with 
 men, yet holding converse with the skies ? 
 
 Man could not be the subject of such revela- 
 tions unless already he lived within the precincts 
 of the mystic world, and had a faculty within him 
 to be acted upon by its essential laws. These con- 
 cealments of matter which engird us are therefore 
 but frail walls that shut us in, which, falling down, 
 give us sight of those higher skies that arch over 
 us, and those brighter fields that lie around us trod- 
 den by the feet of angels, and over which breathe 
 the airs of celestial love. EDMUND H. SEARS. 
 
 are many sayings of Jesus, and inci- 
 * dents in his life, which imply the intimate 
 communion of the dead with the living. One of 
 the most striking features of his life is the fre- 
 
126 THE FAMILY ON EARTH 
 
 quency and nearness of his converse with the 
 spiritual world. He never speaks of angels and 
 just men made perfect as if there were a weary 
 distance to be crossed from them to us or from us 
 to them. They are often with him, at his birth, 
 in his temptation, and in his agony; they come 
 uncalled, they watch by his sepulchre, and wait on 
 his ascension. The spirits of the long-dead talk 
 with him on the mountain. His voice to the 
 widow's son, his powerful word at the tomb of 
 Lazarus, seem addressed to souls not afar off, but 
 within call, near the scenes from which they 
 had gone, and among the friends who thought 
 them lost forever. He promises also his own 
 spiritual presence with his followers, when he shall 
 no longer be visible to the outward eye. 
 
 ANDREW P. PEABODY. 
 
 T LOVE to look on the transfiguration, and on 
 * similar scenes in our Saviour's pilgrimage, as 
 but revelations, manifestations of the spiritual life, 
 which in numberless forms perpetually surrounds 
 us. Heaven, I believe, is not afar off, but un- 
 speakably near, compassing our homes, encircling 
 our daily ways. There is no doubt constantly 
 about us a cloud of unseen spirits, the hosts of 
 God encamp around our dwellings, strains of 
 
AND IN HEAVEN". I2/ 
 
 celestial praise, such as hailed the Saviour's birth, 
 are always borne, though unheard, on our night 
 air, 
 
 " Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth 
 Unseen, both when we wake and when we sleep." 
 
 It was no rare thing, though an amazing sight, 
 when Elisha beheld angelic hosts drawn out for his 
 defence. Nor had the hills of Judea grown un- 
 familiar to Moses and Elijah, who on the mount 
 " appeared in glory." The whole tenor of Scrip- 
 ture brings the two worlds together, makes us feel 
 that they are as one world, that our departed 
 friends, and the wise and holy of all times, may be 
 around us and with us. ANDREW P. PEABODY. 
 
 T>E of comfort ! Thou art not alone if thou 
 have faith. Spake we not of a Communion 
 of Saints, unseen, yet not unreal, accompanying 
 and brother-like embracing thee, so thou be 
 worthy? Their heroic sufferings rise up melo- 
 diously together to heaven, out of all lands, and 
 out of all times, as a sacred Miserere ; their heroic 
 actions also, as a boundless, everlasting psalm of 
 triumph. THOMAS CARLYLE. 
 
128 THE FAMILY ON EARTH 
 
 THE spirit world around this world of sense 
 Floats like an atmosphere, and everywhere 
 Wafts through these earthly mists and vapors dense 
 A vital breath of more ethereal air. 
 
 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 "II 7"E think about the things in this world that 
 * * we have never seen much as we believe in 
 the things of the other world. ... I shall know, 
 I think, better than I have ever known, how real 
 the things may be that lie upon that other side, to 
 which men cross but once, and come not back, nor 
 send to us with stories of their travel. I shall be 
 able to think that life and love, like the planet, are 
 round ; and that though we lose them out of our little 
 horizon, nothing that holds to them by the eternal 
 gravitation ever falls away. ... I shall feel, too, 
 how certain it must be, after all, that from out that 
 heavenly morning, sweet words and breaths are 
 sent back into our waiting twilights, writings 
 are made in our hearts of the blessed things 
 that they walk in the midst of, in that near, fair 
 Other Side. 
 
 MRS. A. D. T. WHITNEY. 
 
AND IN HEAVEN. I2Q 
 
 ^PHE truth is as clear and bright to me as is this 
 * sunny afternoon that the world of spirits is 
 very near to us, just as God and Christ are near ; 
 and that we can interchange influences with our 
 risen and glorified, as truly as you and I are now 
 corresponding across the seas. 
 
 WILLIAM HENRY CHANNING. 
 
 TI 7"HILE, O my heart! as white sails shiver, 
 V V And crowds are passing, and banks stretch wide, 
 How hard to follow, with lips that quiver, 
 That moving speck on the far-off side ! 
 
 Farther, farther I see it know it 
 
 My eyes brim over, it melts away : 
 Only my heart to my heart shall show it 
 
 As I walk desolate day by day. 
 
 And yet I know past all doubting, truly 
 And knowledge greater than grief can dim 
 
 I know, as he loved, he will love me duly 
 Yea, better e'en better than I love him. 
 
 And as I walk by the vast, calm river, 
 
 The awful river so dread to see, 
 I say, " Thy breadth and thy depth forever 
 Are bridged by his thoughts that cross to me." 
 
 JEAN INGELOW. 
 9 
 
130 THE FAMILY ON EARTH 
 
 THE SILENT HOURS. 
 
 AS the storm retreating 
 Leaves the vales in peace, 
 Let the world's vain noises, 
 O'er our spirits cease. 
 
 Now the hours of stillness, 
 
 Wondrous visions show ; 
 Heaven unfolds before us, 
 
 Angels come and go. 
 
 Holy, human faces, 
 
 From earth's shadows free, 
 Look with love upon us, 
 
 Bid us patient be. 
 
 Almost we discern them, 
 
 Almost read their smile, 
 Almost hear them saying 
 
 " Wait a little while." 
 
 Thus in hours of stillness, 
 
 Faith to Heaven shall rise, 
 Till death's last, deep silence 
 
 Quite unseals our eyes. 
 
 THEODORE C. WILLIAMS. 
 
AND IN HE A YEN. 131 
 
 HE AND SHE. 
 
 " OHE is dead ! " they said to him. " Come awaj 
 O Kiss her and leave her; thy love is clay." 
 
 They smoothed her tresses of dark brown hair, 
 On her forehead of stone they laid it fair ; 
 
 Over her eyes, which gazed too much, 
 They drew the lids with a gentle touch ; 
 
 With a tender touch they closed up well 
 The sweet, thin lips, that had secrets to tell ; 
 
 About her brow and beautiful face 
 They tied her veil and marriage lace ; 
 
 And drew on her white feet her white silk shoes, 
 Which were the whitest no eye could choose ! 
 
 And over her bosom they crossed her hands ; 
 " Come away," they said, " God understands ! " 
 
 And there was silence, and nothing there, 
 But silence and scents of eglantere, 
 
 And jasmine and roses and rosemary : 
 
 And they said, " As a lady should lie, lies she." 
 
 And they held their breath as they left the room 
 With a shudder to glance at its stillness and gloom. 
 
132 THE FAMILY ON EARTH 
 
 But he, who loved her too well to dread 
 The sweet, the stately, the beautiful dead, 
 
 He lit his lamp and took the key 
 
 And turned it. Alone again he and she. 
 
 He and she ; yet she would not smile, 
 Though he called the name she loved erewhile. 
 
 He and she ; yet she did not move 
 To any one passionate whisper of love. 
 
 Then he said, " Cold lips and breast without breath, 
 Is there no voice, no language of death ? 
 
 " Dumb to the ear and still to the sense, 
 But to heart and to soul distinct, intense 
 
 " See, now ; I will listen with soul, not ear ; 
 What was the secret of dying, dear ? 
 
 " Was it the infinite wonder of all 
 
 That you ever could let life's flower fall ? 
 
 " Or was it a greater marvel to feel 
 The perfect calm o'er the agony steal ? 
 
 " Was the miracle greater to find how deep 
 Beyond all dreams, sank downward that sleep ? 
 
 " Did life roll back its record, dear, 
 
 And show, as they say it does, past things clear ? 
 
 " And was it the innermost heart of the bliss, 
 To find out so what a wisdom love is? 
 
AND IN HEAVEN. 133 
 
 " O perfect dead ! O dead most dear, 
 I hold the breath of my soul to hear ! 
 
 " I listen as deep as to horrible hell, 
 
 As high as to heaven, and you do not tell ! 
 
 " There must be pleasure in dying, sweet, 
 To make you so placid from head to feet. 
 
 " I would tell you, darling, if I were dead, 
 And 'twere your hot tears upon my brow shed ; 
 
 " I would say, though the angel of death had laid 
 His sword on my lips to keep it unsaid ; 
 
 " You should not ask vainly with streaming eyes, 
 Which of all death's was the chiefest surprise, 
 
 " The very strangest and suddenest thing 
 Of all the surprises that dying must bring." 
 
 Ah, foolish world ! O most kind dead ! 
 Tho' he told me, who will believe it was said ? 
 
 Who will believe that he heard her say 
 
 With the sweet, soft voice in the dear old way ? 
 
 " The utmost wonder is this I hear 
 
 And see you, and love you and kiss you, dear, 
 
 " And am your angel, who was your bride, 
 And know, tho' dead, I have never died." 
 
 EDWIN ARNOLD^ 
 
134 THE FAMILY ON EARTH 
 
 THE CHANGELING. 
 
 T HAD a little daughter, 
 * And she was given to me 
 To lead me gently backward 
 
 To the Heavenly Father's knee, 
 That I, by the force of nature, 
 
 Might in some dim wise divine 
 The depth of his infinite patience 
 
 To this wayward soul of mine. 
 
 I know not how others saw her, 
 
 But to me she was wholly fair, 
 And the light of the heaven she came from 
 
 Still lingered and gleamed in her hair ; 
 For it was as wavy and golden, 
 
 And as many changes took, 
 As the shadows of sun-gilt ripples 
 
 On the yellow bed of a brook. 
 
 To what can I liken her smiling 
 
 Upon me, her kneeling lover? 
 How it leaped from her lips to her eyelids, 
 
 And dimpled her wholly over, 
 Till her outstretched hands smiled also, 
 
 And I almost seemed to see 
 The very heart of her mother 
 
 Sending sun through her veins to me ! 
 
AND IN HEAVEN. 135 
 
 She had been with us scarce a twelvemonth, 
 
 And it hardly seemed a day, 
 When a troop of wandering angels 
 
 Stole my little daughter away ; 
 Or perhaps those heavenly Zingari 
 
 But loosed the hampering strings, 
 And when they had opened her cage-door 
 
 My little bird used her wings. 
 
 But they left in her stead a changeling, 
 
 A little angel child, 
 That seems like her bud in full blossom, 
 
 And smiles as she never smiled ; 
 When I wake in the morning, I see it 
 
 Where she always used to lie, 
 And I feel as weak as a violet 
 
 Alone 'neath the awful sky. 
 
 As weak, yet as trustful also ; 
 
 For the whole year long I see 
 All the wonders of faithful Nature 
 
 Still worked for the love of me ; 
 Winds wander, and dews drip earthward, 
 
 Rain falls, suns rise and set, 
 Earth whirls, and all but to prosper 
 
 A poor little violet. 
 
 The child is not mine as the first was, 
 
 I cannot sing it to rest, 
 I cannot lift it up fatherly 
 
 And bless it upon my breast ; 
 
136 THE FAMILY ON EARTH 
 
 Yet it lies in my little one's cradle 
 And sits in my little one's chair, 
 
 And the light of the heaven she 's gone to 
 Transfigures its golden hair. 
 
 JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. 
 
 FOOTSTEPS OF ANGELS. 
 
 WHEN the hours of Day are numbered, 
 And the voices of the Night 
 Wake the better soul, that slumbered, 
 To a holy, calm delight ; 
 
 Ere the evening lamps are lighted, 
 And like phantoms grim and tall, 
 
 Shadows from the fitful fire-light 
 Dance upon the parlor wall ; 
 
 Then the forms of the departed 
 
 Enter at the open door ; 
 The beloved, the true-hearted, 
 
 Come to visit me once more ; 
 
 He, the young and strong, who cherished 
 Noble longings for the strife, 
 
 By the roadside fell and perished, 
 Weary with the march of life ! 
 
 They, the holy ones and weakly, 
 Who the cross of suffering bore, 
 
 Folded their pale hands so meekly, 
 Spake with us on earth no more ! 
 
AND IN HEAVEN. 137 
 
 And with them the Being Beauteous, 
 Who unto my youth was given, 
 
 More than all things else to love me, 
 And is now a saint in heaven. 
 
 With a slow and noiseless footstep 
 
 Comes that messenger divine, 
 Takes the vacant chair beside me, 
 
 Lays her gentle hand in mine. 
 
 And she sits and gazes at me 
 
 With those deep and tender eyes, 
 
 Like the stars, so still and saint-like, 
 Looking downward from the skies. 
 
 Uttered not, yet comprehended, 
 
 Is the spirit's voiceless prayer, 
 Soft rebukes, in blessings ended, 
 
 Breathing from her lips of air. 
 
 O, though oft depressed and lonely, 
 
 All my fears are laid aside, 
 If I but remember only 
 
 Such as these have lived and died ! 
 
 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
 
 O FAITHFUL heart ! sweet peace hast thou 
 In God's eternal bosom now ! 
 Dust sinks to dust in calm repose ; 
 Into its rest the spirit goes. 
 
138 THE FAMILY ON EARTH 
 
 The love that was thy life while here 
 
 Is now thy heavenly atmosphere; 
 
 God's heaven enspheres us round, and thou, 
 
 In Him, art nearer to us now. 
 
 So then we cry, Farewell, and Hail ! 
 Brave heart, thy work shall never fail; 
 And we who here a friend deplore, 
 Have gained in heaven one angel more. 
 
 CHARLES T. BROOKS. 
 
 YT^HAT a momentous interest is given to our 
 whole earthly life by the thought that it is 
 passed in the presence and communion of the 
 whole spiritual family ! To my mind there is 
 hardly a text of Scripture, or form of speech, that 
 rolls on with such a depth and fulness of meaning 
 as these words : " Seeing that we are compassed 
 about with so great a cloud of witnesses." Vast 
 and bewildering is the philosophical speculation 
 which tells us that we cannot lift a finger without 
 moving the distant spheres. But far more grand 
 and unspeakably solemn is the thought that our 
 daily lives, our conduct in lowly and sheltered 
 scenes, our speech and walk in the retirement of 
 our homes, are felt through the universe of ever- 
 living souls, that the laws of attraction and re- 
 pulsion that reach through all orders of being ex- 
 
AND IN HEAVEN. 139 
 
 tend to our least word and deeds, that in every 
 worthy, generous, holy impulse all heaven bears 
 part, that from the trail of our meanness and sel- 
 fishness, our waywardness and levity, all heaven 
 recoils. Let the august witnesses, the adoring 
 multitude, in whose presence we dwell and wor- 
 ship, arouse us to growing diligence in duty, and 
 awaken in us increasing fervor of spirit, that we 
 may run with patience the race that is set before us, 
 and, found faithful unto death, may receive the 
 
 crown of life. 
 
 ANDREW P. PEABODY. 
 
 seasons when Jesus enjoyed the nearest 
 communion with heaven deserves our special 
 regard. When was it that angels and glorified 
 spirits became manifest in his society? Not when 
 the multitudes thronged him, and children sang 
 hosannas in the temple, not during his few and 
 brief seasons of ease and outward success. They 
 first came to him after his forty days' temptation, 
 when he had contended in lonely prayer with 
 every allurement which could draw him aside from 
 his appointed work. Again, on the mount, came 
 Moses and Elijah. And of what talked they with 
 him ? Not of crowns, or of applauding multitudes, 
 but of his approaching agony and death. Again, 
 
I4O THE FAMILY ON EARTH. 
 
 when in Gethsemane he wrestled with the severest 
 powers of evil, and won the victory before his hour 
 had come, there appeared an angel from heaven 
 strengthening him. Are not these things written 
 that heaven may seem nearest to us when trials 
 most abound, in loneliness and weariness, in deser- 
 tion and agony, that we may bring the unseen 
 world into the clearest view when the power of 
 evil is the strongest, and that, when no earthly 
 voice gives us comfort or a godspeed, we may 
 feel that angels minister to us and glorified spirits 
 urge us heavenward? 
 
 ANDREW P. PEABODY. 
 
ETERNAL GOODNESS. 
 
ETERNAL GOODNESS. 
 
 BLESS the Lord, O my soul, 
 And forget not all his benefits : 
 Who forgiveth all thine iniquities ; 
 Who healeth all thy diseases ; 
 Who redeemeth thy life from destruction ; 
 Who crowneth thee with loving kindness and tender 
 mercies. 
 
 PSALM ciii. 2-4. 
 
 "DLESSED art thou, O Lord, our God! who 
 ^ sustainest the living with beneficence, and 
 with great mercy quickenest the dead, supportest 
 the fallen, and healest the sick ; thou loosenest 
 those who are in bonds, and wilt accomplish thy 
 faith unto those who sleep in the dust. Who is 
 like unto thee, O Lord of mighty acts ! or who 
 can be compared unto thee, who art the King, 
 who killest, and restorest to life; and causest 
 salvation to spring forth ! Who is like unto thee, 
 O merciful Father ! who in mercy rememberest 
 
 thy creatures to life ! 
 
 ANCIENT HEBREW RITUAL. 
 
144 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 T CANNOT think the future world is to be 
 feared, even by the worst of men. I had 
 rather die a sinner than live one. Doubtless justice 
 is there to be done ; that may seem stern and 
 severe. But remember, God's justice is not like a 
 man's ; it is not vengeance, but mercy ; not poison, 
 but medicine. To me it seems tuition more than 
 chastisement. God is not the jailer of the universe, 
 but the Shepherd of the people ; not the hangman 
 of mankind, but their Physician, yes, our Father. 
 I know his justice is love ; that if I suffer, it is for 
 my everlasting joy. . . . Shall God forget his 
 child, his frailest or most stubborn child ; leave 
 him in endless misery, a prey to insatiate sin? I 
 tell you No ; not God. Why, this eccentric earth 
 forsakes the sun a while, careering fast and far 
 away, but that attractive power prevails at length, 
 and the returning globe comes rounding home 
 again. . . . Do you tell me that culprit's mother 
 loves her son more than God can love him ? Then 
 go and worship her. I know that when father and 
 mother both forsake me, in the extremity of my 
 sin, I know my God loves on. Oh yes, ye sons of 
 man, Indian and Greek, ye are right to trust your 
 God. No grain of dust gets lost from off this dusty 
 globe; and shall God lose a man from off this 
 sphere of souls? Believe it not. 
 
ETERNAL GOODNESS. 145 
 
 I know that suffering follows sin, lasting long 
 as the sin. I thank God it is so ; that God's 
 own angel stands there to warn back the erring 
 Balaams, wandering towards woe. But God, who 
 sends the rain, the dew, the sun, on me as on a 
 better man, will, at last, I doubt it not, make us 
 all pure, all just, all good. ... I expect to suffer 
 for each conscious, wilful wrong ; I wish, I hope, 
 I long to suffer for it. I am wronged if I do not ; 
 what I do not outgrow, live over and forget here, 
 I hope to expiate there. I fear a sin, not to out- 
 grow a sin. . . . 
 
 Sad and disappointed, full of self-reproach, we 
 shall not be so forever. The light of heaven 
 breaks upon the night of trial, sorrow, sin. . . . 
 The more I live, the more I love this lovely world ; 
 feel more its Author in each little thing, in all that 
 is great. But yet I feel my immortality the more. 
 In childhood the consciousness of immortal life 
 buds forth feeble, though full of promise. In the 
 man it unfolds its fragrant petals, his most celestial 
 flower, to mature its seed throughout eternity. 
 
 THEODORE PARKER. 
 
 created man to be immortal, and made 
 him to be an image of his own eternity. 
 The souls of the righteous are in the hands of 
 
146 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 God ; and there shall no torment touch them. In 
 the sight of the unwise they seemed to die, and 
 their departure is taken for misery, and their going 
 from us to be utter destruction. But they are 
 in peace, for though they be afflicted in the sight 
 of men, yet is their hope full of immortality. 
 Having been a little chastened, they shall be 
 greatly rewarded, for God proved them and found 
 them worthy of himself. As gold in the furnace he 
 tried them and received them as a burnt offering. 
 They shall shine in the time of his visitation and 
 shall judge the nations. , They that put their trust 
 in him shall understand the truth, and such as be 
 faithful shall abide with him in love. 
 
 But the ungodly shall be punished according to 
 their own imaginations, and when they cast up the 
 account of their sins, they shall fear, and their 
 iniquities shall convince them to their face. When 
 they see it they shall be troubled and shall be 
 amazed at the strangeness of his salvation, beyond 
 all that they had looked for. They are scourged 
 by the strength of thine arms. It is not possible 
 to escape thine hand. Thy incorruptible spirit is 
 in all men, therefore chastenest thou them and 
 warnest them by putting them in remembrance 
 wherein they have offended, that leaving their 
 wickedness they may believe on thee, O God. So 
 
ETERNAL GOODNESS. 147 
 
 were they troubled for a short season that they 
 might be admonished, having a sign of salvation to 
 put them in remembrance of the commandment 
 of thy law. 
 
 Thou hast power over life and death : thou 
 leadest to the gates of hell and bringest up again, 
 and hast made thy children to be of a good hope, 
 for thou givest repentance of sin. Thou lovest all 
 things which thou hast made : thou sparest all, 
 for they are thine, O Lord, thou lover of souls. 
 God made .not death, neither hath he pleasure 
 in the destruction of the wicked. He created 
 all things that they might have their being in 
 righteousness ; and righteousness is immortal. 
 
 By thy power is the beginning of righteousness, 
 and because thou art the Lord of all, it maketh 
 thee to be gracious unto all. The true beginning 
 of righteousness is the desire of discipline, and 
 the end of discipline is love, and love is the keep- 
 ing of his laws, and in the keeping of his laws is 
 the assurance of immortality. The Holy Spirit of 
 Discipline will not abide where righteousness has 
 come in. 
 
 Thou, O God, art gracious and true : long- 
 suffering, and in mercy ordering all things. For 
 if we sin we are thine, knowing thy power : but 
 we will not sin, knowing that we are counted thine. 
 
148 LEAVES OF HEALING 
 
 For to know thee is perfect righteousness : yea, to 
 know thy power is the root of immortality. 
 
 The righteous live forevermore : their reward is 
 also with the Lord, and the care of them is with 
 the Most High. Therefore shall they receive a 
 glorious kingdom and a crown of beauty from the 
 Lord's hand. WISDOM. 
 
 Our God is a consuming fire. 
 
 nPHE man who loves God, and is not yet pure, 
 courts the burning of God. Nor is it always 
 torture. The fire shows itself sometimes only as 
 light still it will be fire of purifying. The con- 
 suming fire is just the original, the active form of 
 Purity, that which makes pure, that which is 
 indeed Love, the creative energy of God. 
 
 The man whose deeds are evil, fears the burn- 
 ing. But the burning will not come the less that 
 he fears it or denies it. Escape is hopeless. For 
 Love is inexorable. Our God is a consuming fire. 
 He shall not come out till he has paid the utter- 
 most farthing. 
 
 If the man resists the burning of God, the con- 
 suming fire of Love, a terrible .doom awaits him, 
 and its day will come. He shall be cast into the 
 
ETERNAL GOODNESS. 149 
 
 outer darkness who hates the fire of God. What 
 sick dismay shall then seize upon him ! Then, if 
 the moan of suffering humanity ever reaches the 
 ear of the outcast of darkness, he will be ready 
 to rush into the very heart of the Consuming Fire 
 to know life once more, to change the terror of 
 sick negation, of unspeakable death, for that region 
 of painful hope. 
 
 The outer darkness is but the most dreadful form 
 of the consuming fire the fire without light the 
 darkness visible, the black flame. God hath with- 
 drawn himself, but not lost his hold. His face is 
 turned away, but his hand is laid upon him still. 
 His heart has ceased to beat into the man's heart, 
 but he keeps him alive by his fire. And that fire 
 will go searching and burning on in him, as in 
 the highest saint who is not yet pure as He is 
 pure. 
 
 But at length, O God, wilt thou not cast Death 
 and Hell into the lake of Fire even into thine 
 own consuming self? Death shall then die ever- 
 lastingly, 
 
 " And Hell itself will pass away, 
 
 And leave her dolorous mansions to the peering day." 
 
 Then indeed wilt thou be all in all. For then our 
 poor brothers and sisters, every one O God, we 
 
1 50 LEA VES OF HEALING. 
 
 trust in thee, the Consuming Fire shall have 
 been burnt clean and brought home. 
 
 As for us, now will we come to thee, our Con- 
 suming Fire. And thou wilt not burn us more 
 than we can bear. But thou wilt burn us. And 
 although thou seem to slay us, yet will we trust in 
 thee even for that which thou hast not spoken, if 
 by any means we may attain unto the blessedness 
 of those who have not seen and yet have believed. 
 
 GEORGE MAC DONALD. 
 
 me, O Infinite Cause, and cleanse me of 
 wrong ! 
 Take me, raise me to higher life through centuries 
 
 long! 
 Cleanse me, by pain, if need be, through aeons of 
 
 days! 
 
 Take me and purge me, still will I answer with 
 praise 
 
 There is no Death forever! 
 
 EDWIN MORRIS. 
 
 N' 
 
 COT with hatred's undertow 
 
 Doth the Love Eternal flow ; 
 Every chain that spirits wear 
 Crumbles in the breath of prayer; 
 And the penitent's desire 
 Opens every gate of fire. 
 
ETERNAL GOODNESS. 151 
 
 Still thy love, O Christ arisen, 
 Yearns to reach these souls in prison ! 
 Through all depths of sin and loss 
 Drops the plummet of thy cross ! 
 Never yet abyss was found 
 Deeper than that cross could sound ! 
 
 Therefore well may nature keep 
 Equal faith with all who sleep, 
 Set her watch of hills around 
 Christian grave and heathen mound, 
 And to cairn and kirkyard send 
 Summer's flowery dividend. 
 
 Keep, O pleasant Melvin stream, 
 Thy sweet laugh in shade and gleam ! 
 On the Indian's grassy tomb 
 Swing, O flowers, your bells of bloom ! 
 Deep below, as high above, 
 Sweeps the circle of God's love. 
 
 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER. 
 
 A ND now, as I behold what is the actual sorrow 
 ** of some, and the possible sorrow of all, in 
 ray sense of this sacred hour, and the solemn light 
 that streams from our religion, I bid you hope. Put 
 the light in your windows for the wanderer's return. 
 Keep the old home-love just the same. They will 
 come back. They will be yours again. From the 
 
1 5 2 LEA VES OF HEALING. 
 
 distant fields of sin they will come. From un- 
 marked graves they will rise, and your sore heart 
 will lift itself in a psalm of unspeakable joy. The 
 whole creation shall yet put on its new manhood, 
 and walk in glory in the Father's house. 
 
 AMOS CRUM. 
 
 THY erring child may be 
 Lost to himself, but never lost to Thee. 
 
 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER. 
 
 w 
 
 HEN he came to himself he said, I will arise 
 and go to my Father. LUKE xv. 17, 18. 
 
 THE Lord will perfect that which concerneth me. 
 PSALM cxxxviii. 8. 
 
 PURE love is the only eternal fire. MADAME 
 GUYON. 
 
THE FATHER'S WILL 
 
THE FATHER'S WILL. 
 
 I BESEECH you therefore, brethren, by the mercies 
 of God, to present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, 
 acceptable to God, which is your reasonable service. 
 And be not fashioned according to this world : but 
 be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that 
 ye may prove what is the good and acceptable and 
 perfect will of God. ROMANS xii. i, 2. 
 
 That ye may stand perfect and complete in all the 
 will of God. COL. iv. 12. 
 
 TVTOT as I will, but as Thou wilt. We may re- 
 **' peat these words upon occasions, in hours 
 of bereavement. But do they suggest anything 
 more to our minds than a silent submission to the 
 inevitable ? They have a far, far deeper meaning. 
 
 To accept them as expressing the supreme abid- 
 ing law of life, from a heart overflowing with their 
 full significance, is the greatest act of which the 
 soul of man is capable. 
 
 It is not the annihilation of the human will, it is 
 not the mere passive submission of it to a higher 
 
156 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 Power. It is the realization of a transcendent 
 mystery of our being : the exaltation of the human 
 will to an identity with the Supreme Will. 
 
 To realize this mystery in one's self, to be con- 
 scious that one's own will is identically the Divine 
 Will is to be made conscious of the imperishable 
 Life and Love and Power of the Supreme Nature, 
 and consequently, of a profound sense of being in 
 harmony with the whole world of things, of a Peace, 
 the Peace of God, down deep in the heart, that 
 nothing can reach to destroy. 
 
 Would that we all might know this great truth 
 from our own experience ! I trust in God that 
 we all shall know it, if not now and here, yet 
 hereafter. WILLIAM H. FURNESS. 
 
 A SK for no wings to fly from any duties or cares 
 ** God has assigned you. Attack them in the 
 front with zeal and patience, with courage and 
 faith, and make them allies. Do not think it ne- 
 cessary to leave your post, because it is monoto- 
 nous, or lonely, or without opportunities. Employ 
 your ingenuity in varying its monotony, in break- 
 ing up its unsatisfactoriness. Rejoice in the 
 demands made upon your gifts and talents. Any- 
 thing but longing for dove's wings will do. The 
 
THE FATHER'S WILL. 157 
 
 rest the heart and soul want is in God, full faith 
 in the Father, the Friend, the Inspirer, and the 
 Author of our nature and our lot. And no dove 
 can carry us nearer to Him than we already are, 
 when we humbly, submissively, and patiently do 
 His will. Nay, let rather His dove come to us, 
 that Holy Spirit which is God's love and truth and 
 will, welcomed and found and felt in our docile 
 trusting hearts, and then that rest which visits 
 the soul that is earnest in the Father's business 
 will establish itself here and now, even in the midst 
 of the most trying and painful circumstances ; and 
 we shall want no wings to carry us away, for the 
 dove's wings will be folded in a nest which God 
 makes full of peace and quietness for us, and for 
 himself and his Son, in the bottom of every patient, 
 faithful, and active Christian's heart ! 
 
 HENRY W. BELLOWS. 
 
 "OLINDFOLDED and alone I stand 
 
 -D With unknown thresholds on each hand, 
 
 The darkness deepens as I grope, 
 
 Afraid to fear, afraid to hope : 
 
 Yet this one thing I learn to know 
 
 Each day more surely as I go, 
 
 That doors are opened, ways are made, 
 
 Burdens are lifted or are laid, 
 
1 5 8 LEA VES OF HEALING. 
 
 By some great law, unseen and still, 
 Unfathomed purpose to fulfil, 
 Not as I will. 
 
 H. H. 
 
 I am glad to think 
 
 I am not bound to make the world go right ; 
 But only to discover, and to do, 
 With cheerful heart, the work that God appoints. 
 
 I will trust in Him, 
 
 That he can hold His own ; and I will take 
 His will, above the work he sendeth me, 
 
 To be my chiefest good. 
 
 JEAN INGELOW. 
 
 THE folded hands seem idle : 
 If folded at His word, 
 'T is a holy service, trust me, 
 In obedience to the Lord. 
 
 ANNA SHIPTON. 
 
 IF, for the days to come, this hour 
 Of trial hath vicarious power, 
 And, blest by Thee, our present pain 
 Be Character's eternal gain, 
 Thy will be done ! 
 
THE FATHER'S WILL. 
 
 159 
 
 Strike, Thou the Master, we Thy keys, 
 The anthem of the destinies ! 
 The minor of Thy loftier strain, 
 Our hearts shall breathe the old refrain, 
 Thy will be done ! 
 
 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER. 
 
 the atom sings its tiny song in the 
 ear of God, a song of perfect, infinite con- 
 tent ; for it knows that it and its Maker are alike 
 perfect. To all eternity, it fulfils His will with 
 absolutely unquestioning obedience. Now floating 
 in the sunlight, now imprisoned in the petal of a 
 flower, now hidden for seeming eternal ages in the 
 darkness of the mine, or entombed in the awful 
 splendor of the central fires ; now throbbing with 
 the sun's inconceivable heat, now chilled by the 
 bitter cold of interstellar space, always and 
 everywhere, with equal and unchanged joy, it fills 
 its tiny but essential place in the unfathomable 
 creation of God. It cannot "serve Him much," 
 but it can serve Him forever, and can "please 
 Him perfectly." 
 
 " Wouldst thou the highest life know, the atom can whisper 
 
 its secret r 
 What that is without will, that be thou, man, with a will." 
 
 SAMUEL R. CALTHROP. 
 
I6O LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 HPHE great secret of spiritual perfection is ex- 
 * pressed in the words of Saint Ignatius Loyola, 
 "Hoc vult Deus." God wishes me to stand at 
 this -post, to fulfil this duty, to suffer this disease, 
 to be afflicted with this calamity, this contempt, 
 this vexation. God wishes this, whatever the 
 world and self may dictate, " Hoc vult Deus." 
 His will is my law. KENELM HENRY DIGBY. 
 
 TDETTER than resignation, more Christ-like is it 
 ^ to have our wills lifted up into oneness with 
 the Father's, to believe that his will contains 
 more of blessedness for us than we can ever 
 ask. " Lead Thou me on ! " 
 
 DANIEL W. MOREHOUSE. 
 
 'IPHE thought on which I delight to dwell, as I 
 advance in life, is that God is within me, al- 
 ways present to my soul, to teach, to rebuke, to 
 aid, to bless, that he truly desires my salvation 
 from all inward evils, that he is ever ready to 
 give his spirit, that there is no part of my lot which 
 may not carry me forward to perfection, and that 
 outward things are of little or no moment, provided 
 this great work of God goes on within. The body 
 
THE FATHER'S WILL, l6l 
 
 and the world vanish more and more, and the soul, 
 the immortal principle, made to bear God's image, 
 to partake of His truth, goodness, purity, and hap- 
 piness, comes out to my consciousness more and 
 more distinctly; and in feeling God's intimate 
 presence with this, to enlighten, quicken, and save, 
 I find strength and hope and peace. 
 
 WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING. 
 
 T REMEMBERED some sentences of Ruskin's 
 that had been curiously beautiful to me, just 
 from the fact they told ; and now the fact inter- 
 preted itself. He explains to us how one of the 
 ideas of architecture grew, from observing the out- 
 line left, when the rose, or the trefoil, or whatever 
 was first traced for carving, had been cut and 
 taken away. That which was left was as beautiful 
 as the central design. So God shapes the flower 
 of beauty in us, and seems perhaps only to reveal 
 its glory by a taking away. But he sees how fair 
 in the life stands the outline that is left ; how the 
 tender curves bend and cling about an emptiness, 
 and declare in themselves a wonderful, essential 
 grace. He makes that which remains by the same 
 stroke which separates and removes; and so he 
 chisels and thins and glorifies us, until in the im- 
 ii 
 
1 62 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 mortal aspects in which we shall stand before him, 
 only so much of the mere form of being shall re- 
 main as shall make it possible for us to hold these 
 thoughts of his with which he has been, by depriv- 
 ing, filling us. MRS. A. D. T. WHITNEY. 
 
 WHAT thou wilt, O Father, give ! 
 All is gain that I receive. 
 Let the lowliest task be mine, 
 Grateful, so the work be Thine ; 
 Let me find the humblest place 
 In the shadow of Thy grace. 
 If there be some weaker one, 
 Give me strength to help him on ; 
 If a blinder soul there be, 
 Let me guide him nearer Thee. 
 Make my mortal dreams come true 
 With the work I fain would do ; 
 Clothe with life the weak intent, 
 Let me be the thing I meant ; 
 Let me find in Thy employ 
 Peace that dearer is than joy; 
 Out of self to love be led, 
 And to heaven acclimated, 
 Until all things sweet and good 
 Seem my natural habitude. 
 
 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER. 
 
THE FATHER'S WILL. 163 
 
 r pHOUGH dark my path and sad my lot 
 -*- Let me be still and murmur not, 
 And breathe the prayer divinely taught, 
 " Thy will be done ! " 
 
 Let but my fainting heart be blest 
 With thy sweet spirit for its guest, 
 My God, to Thee I leave the rest : 
 " Thy will be done ! " 
 
 Renew my will from day to day ; 
 Blend it with Thine, and take away 
 All that now makes it hard to say, 
 
 " Thy will be done ! " 
 
 CHARLOTTE ELLIOTT. 
 
 WE tell -Thee of our care, 
 Of the sore burden, pressing day by day, 
 And in the light and pity of Thy face, 
 The burden melts away. 
 
 We breathe our secret wish, 
 The importunate longing which no man may see ; 
 We ask it humbly, or, more restful still, 
 
 We leave it all to Thee. 
 
 SUSAN COOLIDGE. 
 
 MY Father, as Thou wilt : 
 Oh, may thy will be mine ! 
 Into thy hands of love 
 I would my all resign. 
 
1 64 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 Through sorrow or through joy, . 
 Conduct me as Thine own, 
 And help me still to say, 
 Father, Thy will be done. 
 
 My Father, as Thou wilt : 
 If needy here and poor, 
 Give me Thy people's bread, 
 Their portion rich and sure ; 
 The manna of thy word 
 Let my soul feed upon ; 
 And if all else should fail, 
 Father, Thy will be done. 
 
 My Father, as Thou wilt: 
 All shall be well for me ; 
 Each changing future scene, 
 I gladly trust with Thee. 
 Straight to my home above, 
 I travel calmly on, 
 And sing in life or death, 
 Father, Thy will be done. 
 
 BENJAMIN SCHMOLKE. 
 TR., JANE BORTHWICK. 
 
 Lo, I am come to do Thy will, O God. HEB. x. 7. 
 I love the Father, and as the Father gave me com- 
 mandment, even so I do. JOHN xiv. 31. 
 
ASPIRATION. 
 
ASPIRATION. 
 
 As thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they 
 also may be in us. JESUS. 
 
 A S we are religious, we are in a state of aspira- 
 *"* tion and unsatisfied desire. We lie open to 
 the infinite universe, and keep the vigils of the 
 exposed and trustful. JAMES MARTINEAU. 
 
 A /TAN'S Unhappiness, as I construe, comes of his 
 Greatness ; it is because there is an Infinite 
 in him, which with all his cunning he cannot quite 
 bury under the Finite. THOMAS CARLYLE. 
 
 "\1 7HEN your Ideal World, wherein the whole 
 man has been dimly struggling and inex- 
 pressibly languishing to work, becomes revealed, 
 and thrown open, you discover, with amazement 
 enough, that it is " here or nowhere." The situa- 
 tion that has not its Duty, its Ideal, was never 
 yet occupied by man. Yes, here, in this poor, 
 
1 68 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 miserable, hampered, despicable Actual, wherein 
 thou even now standest, here or nowhere is thy 
 Ideal : work it out therefrom ; and working, believe, 
 live, be free. THOMAS CARLYLE. 
 
 problem of contentment, then, is this, 
 * to be contented with our present condition, 
 whatever it may be, and yet endeavor to improve 
 it and make it better : in short, not to lay much 
 stress, one way or the other, on our outward posi- 
 tion, but to have the fountain of contentment 
 within, in a full and active soul. 
 
 Such contentment is not sluggishness. A man 
 may be contented where he is, because he is con- 
 scious he is full of life/ and must make progress. 
 
 True contentment is noble. It is the perfect 
 poise of a well-balanced mind ; of one who can 
 wait when patience is necessary and work when 
 work is timely, not daunted by failure, not elated 
 by success. 
 
 The root of discontent is self-love ; the root of 
 true content is work done in love for true ends. 
 True contentment is paired with a true discon- 
 tent, and the one and the other lead us to the 
 mercy-seat of God, and fill us more and more with 
 
 the spirit of prayer. 
 
 JAMES FREEMAN CLARKE. 
 
w 
 
 ASPIRATION. 169 
 
 HAT I aspire to be, and am not, comforts 
 me - ROBERT BROWNING. 
 
 HPHE door to any outward heaven lies through 
 an inward heaven. If we do not first enter 
 " the kingdom of heaven which is within us," we 
 shall not enter any heaven above us or outside 
 of us. JAMES FREEMAN CLARKE. 
 
 THE BEGGAR. 
 
 A BEGGAR through the world am I, 
 From place to place I wander by. 
 Fill up my pilgrim's scrip for me, 
 For Christ's sweet sake and charity ! 
 
 A little of thy steadfastness, 
 
 Rounded with leafy gracefulness, 
 
 Old oak, give me, 
 
 That the world's blasts may round me blow, 
 
 And I yield gently to and fro, 
 
 While my stout-hearted trunk below 
 
 And firm-set roots unshaken be. 
 
 Some of thy stern, unyielding might, 
 Enduring still through day and night 
 Rude tempest-shock and withering blight, 
 
170 LEAVES OF HEALING, 
 
 That I may keep at bay 
 The changeful April sky of chance 
 And the strong tide of circumstance, 
 Give me, old granite gray. 
 
 Some of thy pensiveness serene, 
 
 Some of thy never-dying green, 
 
 Put in this scrip of mine, 
 
 That griefs may fall like snow-flakes light, 
 
 And deck me in a robe of white, 
 
 Ready to be an angel bright, 
 
 sweetly mournful pine. 
 
 A little of thy merriment, 
 Of thy sparkling, light content, 
 Give me, my cheerful brook, 
 That I may still be full of glee 
 And gladsomeness, where'er I be, 
 Though fickle fate hath prisoned me 
 In some neglected nook. 
 
 Ye have been very kind and good 
 To me, since I 've been in the wood; 
 Ye have gone nigh to fill my heart ; 
 But good-by, kind friends, every one, 
 
 1 've far to go ere set of sun ; 
 
 Of all good things I would have part, 
 The day was high ere I could start, 
 And so my journey 's scarce begun. 
 
 Heaven help me ! how could I forget 
 To beg of thee, dear violet ! 
 
ASPIRATION; 171 
 
 Some of thy modesty, 
 That blossoms here as well, unseen, 
 As if before the world thou 'dst been, 
 Oh, give, to strengthen me. 
 
 JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. 
 
 A PRAYER. 
 
 GIRD me with the strength of thy steadfast hills ! 
 The speed of thy streams give me ! 
 In the spirit that calms, with the life that thrills, 
 I would stand or run for thee. 
 Let me be thy voice, or thy silent power, 
 As the cataract or the peak, 
 An eternal thought, in my earthly hour, 
 Of the living God to speak. 
 
 Clothe me in the rose tints of thy skies 
 
 Upon morning summits laid ; 
 
 Robe me in the purple and gold that flies 
 
 Through thy shuttle of light and shade ; 
 
 Let me rise and rejoice in thy smile aright, 
 
 As mountains and forests do ; 
 
 Let me welcome thy twilight and thy night 
 
 And wait for thy dawn anew ! 
 
 Give me of the brook's faith, joyously sung 
 Under clank of its icy chain ! 
 Give me of the patience that hides among 
 Thy hill-tops in mist and rain ! 
 
1/2 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 Lift me up from the clod ; let me breathe thy breath ; 
 Thy beauty and strength give me ! 
 Let me lose both the name and the meaning of death 
 In the life that I share with Thee ! 
 
 LUCY LARCOM. 
 
 1 RANT, O my God, that neither joy nor sorrow 
 shall visit my heart in vain ! Make me wise 
 and strong to the performance of immediate du- 
 ties, and ripen me by what means Thou seest best 
 for the performance of those that lie beyond. 
 
 MARGARET FULLER. 
 
 NEEDED BLESSINGS. 
 
 WE ask not that our path be always bright, 
 But for Thine aid to walk therein aright ; 
 That Thou, O Lord, through all its devious way 
 Wilt give us strength sufficient to our day, 
 For this, for this we pray. 
 
 Not for the fleeting joys that earth bestows, 
 Not for exemption from its many woes ; 
 But that, come joy or woe, come good or ill, 
 With childlike faith we trust Thy guidance still, 
 And do Thy holy will. 
 
 Teach us, dear Lord, to find the latent good 
 That sorrow yields, when rightly understood ; 
 And for the frequent joy that crowns our days 
 Help us with grateful hearts our hymns to raise, 
 Of thankfulness and praise. 
 
ASPIRATION. 173 
 
 Thou knowest all our needs, and wilt supply ; 
 No veil of darkness hides us from Thine eye, 
 Nor vainly, from the depths, on Thee we call ; 
 Thy tender love, that breaks the tempter's thrall, 
 Folds and encircles all. 
 
 WILLIAM H. BURLEIGH. 
 
 A REVERIE IN SICKNESS. 
 
 I FANCY I hear a whisper, 
 As of leaves in a gentle air ; 
 Is it wrong, I wonder, to fancy 
 It may be the tree up there ? 
 The tree that heals the nations, 
 Growing amidst the street, 
 And dropping for who will gather 
 Its healing at their feet. 
 
 I fancy I hear a rushing 
 
 As of waters down a slope ; 
 
 Is it wrong, I wonder, to fancy 
 
 It may be the river of hope ? 
 
 The river of crystal waters, 
 
 That flows from the very throne, 
 
 And runs through the street of the city, 
 
 With a softly jubilant tone. 
 
 I fancy a twilight round me, 
 And a wandering of the breeze, 
 With a hush in that high city, 
 And a going in the trees. 
 
1/4 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 But I know there will be no night there, 
 No coming and going day, 
 For the holy face of the Father 
 Will be perfect light alway. 
 
 I could do without the darkness, 
 
 And better without the sun ; 
 
 But oh ! I should like a twilight, 
 
 After the day was done ! 
 
 Would He lay His hand on His forehead, 
 
 On His hair as white as wool, 
 
 And shine one hour through His ringers, 
 
 Till the shadow had made me cool. 
 
 
 
 But the thought is very foolish ; 
 
 If that face I did but see, 
 
 All else would be forgotten, 
 
 River and twilight and tree ; 
 
 I should seek, I should care, for nothing, 
 
 Beholding His countenance; 
 
 And fear only to lose one glimmer 
 
 By one single sideway glance. 
 
 'T is again but a foolish fancy, 
 To picture the countenance so, 
 Which is shining in all our spirits, 
 Making them white as snow. 
 Come to me, shine in me, Father, 
 And I care not for river or tree, 
 Care for no sorrow or sighing, 
 If only Thou shine in me. 
 
ASPIRATION. 175 
 
 I would lie on my bed for ages, 
 Looking out on the dusty street, 
 Where whisper, nor leaves, nor waters, 
 Nor anything cOol and sweet, 
 At my heart this ghastly fainting, 
 And this burning in my blood, 
 If only I knew Thou wast with me, 
 Wast with me making me good. 
 
 GEORGE MAC DONALD. 
 
 AS some rare perfume in a vase of clay 
 Pervades it with a fragrance not its own, 
 So, when Thou dwellest in a mortal soul, 
 All heaven's own sweetness seems around it thrown. 
 
 Abide in me ! There have been moments blest, 
 
 When I have heard Thy voice and felt Thy power ; 
 
 Then evil lost its grasp ; and passion, hushed, 
 Owned the divine enchantment of the hour. 
 
 These were but seasons, beautiful and rare : 
 
 Abide in me, and they shall ever be ! 
 Fulfil at once Thy precept and my prayer : 
 
 Come, and abide in me, and I in Thee ! 
 
 HARRIET BEECHER STOWE. 
 
 T?ATHER, in Thy mysterious presence kneeling, 
 -- Fain would our souls feel all Thy kindling love ; 
 For we are weak, and need some deep revealing 
 Of trust and strength and calmness from above. 
 
176 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 Lord, we have wandered forth through doubt and 
 
 sorrow, 
 
 . And Thou hast made each step an onward one ; 
 And we will ever trust each unknown morrow, 
 Thou wilt sustain us till its work is done. 
 
 In the heart's depths a peace serene and holy 
 Abides ; and when pain seems to have its will, 
 
 Or we despair, oh, may that peace rise slowly, 
 Stronger than agony, and we be still ! 
 
 Now, Father, now, in Thy dear presence kneeling, 
 Our spirits yearn to feel Thy kindling love : 
 
 Now make us strong, we need Thy deep revealing 
 Of trust and strength and calmness from above. 
 
 SAMUEL JOHNSON. 
 
 Life within my life, than self more near ! 
 -*- Thou veiled Presence infinitely dear ! 
 From all my nameless weariness I flee 
 To find my centre and my rest in Thee. 
 
 Take part with me against these doubts that rise, 
 And seek to throne Thee far in distant skies ! 
 Take part with me against this self, that dares 
 Assume the burden of these sins and cares ! 
 
 How can I call Thee who art always here, 
 How shall I praise Thee who art still most dear, 
 What may I give Thee, save what Thou hast given, 
 And whom but Thee have I in earth or heaven ? 
 
 ELIZA SCUDDER. 
 
ASPIRATION. 177 
 
 O^HROUGH all this life's eventful road, 
 A Fain would I walk with Thee, my God, 
 And find Thy presence light around, 
 And every step on holy ground. 
 
 Each blessing would I trace to Thee, 
 In every grief Thy mercy see ; 
 And through the paths of duty move, 
 Conscious of Thine encircling love. 
 
 And when the angel Death stands by, 
 Be this my strength that Thou art nigh ; 
 And this my joy, that I shall be 
 With those who dwell in light with Thee. 
 WILLIAM GASKELL. 
 
 IN Thee my trust abideth, 
 On Thee my hope relies, 
 O Thou whose love provideth 
 
 For all beneath the skies : 
 O for a heart to love Thee 
 
 More truly as I ought, 
 And nothing place above Thee 
 In deed, or word, or thought. 
 
 My grief is in the dulness 
 
 With which this sluggish heart 
 
 Doth open to the fulness 
 Of all Thou wouldst impart ; 
 
 12 
 
i;8 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 My joy is in Thy beauty 
 
 Of holiness divine, 
 My comfort in the duty 
 
 That binds my life to Thine. 
 
 O for that choicest blessing 
 
 Of living in Thy love, 
 And thus on earth possessing 
 
 The peace of heaven above ; 
 O for the bliss that by it 
 
 The soul securely knows ; 
 The holy calm and quiet 
 
 Of faith's serene repose. 
 
 J. S. B. MONSELL. 
 
 WE kneel how weak, we rise how full of power. 
 Why therefore should we do ourselves this 
 
 wrong, 
 
 Or others that we are not always strong, 
 That we are ever overborne with care, 
 That we should ever weak or heartless be, 
 Anxious or troubled, when with us is prayer, 
 And joy and strength and courage are with Thee ? 
 
 RICHARD CHENEVIX TRENCH. 
 
 AGAINST THE SKY. 
 
 A GAINST the sky the elm has laid 
 * Her graceful branches unafraid. 
 Against the sky the maples rest, 
 And hold their red buds to be blessed. 
 
ASPIRATION. 179 
 
 Against the sky ! That is the test. 
 Hold up thy soul and stand confessed 
 Against the sky ! And all of earth 
 Will show at once its lowly birth. 
 
 Against the sky ! And what is fair 
 Will join eternal beauty there. 
 Have fellowship with Heaven, and try 
 To judge thy life against the sky. 
 
 JAMES FREEMAN CLARKE. 
 
 THE BLESSED LIFE. 
 
 O BLESSED life! the heart at rest, 
 When all without tumultuous seems, 
 That trusts a higher will, and deems 
 That higher will, made ours, the best. 
 
 O blessed life ! the mind that sees 
 Whatever change the years may bring 
 Some good still hid in everything, 
 And shining through all mysteries. 
 
 O blessed life ! the soul that soars, 
 When sense of mortal sight is dim, 
 Beyond the sense, beyond, to Him 
 Whose love unlocks the heavenly doors. 
 
180 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 O blessed life ! heart, mind, and soul, 
 From selfish aims and wishes free, 
 In all at one with Deity, 
 And loyal to the Lord's control. 
 
 WILLIAM TIDD MATSON. 
 
 THAT ye may be filled unto all the fulness of God. 
 
 EPHESIANS iii. 19. 
 
THE PERFECT TRUST. 
 
THE PERFECT TRUST. 
 
 THE eternal God is thy dwelling place, 
 And underneath are the everlasting arms. 
 
 DEUT. xxxiii. 27. 
 
 REST in the Lord ; wait patiently on him ; 
 And he shall give thee thy heart's desire. 
 
 PSALM xxxvii. 
 
 knowest that I am not blest 
 A As thou wouldst have me be, 
 Till all the peace and joy of faith 
 Possess my soul in Thee. 
 
 ANNA L. WARING. 
 
 /~\NLY as we trust, do we indeed live, coming to 
 ^-^ be content, though we cannot fill the yawn- 
 ing abysses or fathom the fathomless will, in the 
 conviction that God is over all, and over all for 
 good. Let us not forget that where man fails, 
 there God begins, and that He, notwithstanding 
 human failure, is able with unutterable peace and 
 blessing to bless those who put their trust in Him. 
 
 JOHN F. W. WARE. 
 
1 84 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 "II rHEN, hope as you will, you can trust every- 
 thing to the Eternal, then does the peace 
 that passes understanding overflow your heart with 
 its ineffable serenity. And can you not trust every- 
 thing to him when you consider all the ordered 
 beauty and beneficence of his manifest life ? Hope 
 then, dear friends, as grandly as you will, but still 
 more grandly trust. JOHN W. CHADWICK. 
 
 "\T 7"E wrong the deepest revelations of life, when 
 *' we are not content to let this one little 
 segment in the arc of our existence stand in its 
 own simple, separate intention, whether it be glad- 
 ness or gloom ; and trust surely that the full and 
 perfect intention must come out in the full range 
 of our being. ROBERT COLLYER. 
 
 QAY what we will, there is nothing stronger or 
 ^ deeper in men than confidence in God, a 
 solemn trust that He will do us good. 
 
 THEODORE PARKER. 
 
 'TWERE is a sublime trust implied in calm and 
 conquering cheerfulness. The soul seems to 
 have such an understanding with the universe ; 
 such a childlike confidence that its Father will do 
 all things well. That a being so frail as man, with 
 
THE PERFECT TRUST. 185 
 
 such a destiny at stake, in a condition so grand, 
 walking amid forces whose rage he is impotent to 
 control that such a one can be cheerful and 
 happy shows an inborn conviction that God holds 
 them all in the hollow of His hand. How sublime 
 is such a trust ! NAHOR AUGUSTUS STAPLES. 
 
 "\T 7"E never know through what divine mysteries 
 ^* of compensation the great Father of the 
 universe may be carrying out His sublime plan ; 
 and those three words, " God is Love," ought to 
 contain, to every doubting soul, the solution of all 
 things. Miss MULOCH. 
 
 A MONG the children of God, while there is 
 *"* always that fearful and bowed apprehension 
 of His majesty, and that sacred dread of all offence 
 to Him, which is called the fear of God, yet of real 
 and essential fear there is not any, but clinging of 
 confidence to Him as their Rock, Fortress, and 
 Deliverer, and perfect love, and casting out of 
 fear ; so that it is not possible that while the mind 
 is rightly bent on Him there should be any dread 
 of anything either earthly or supernatural; and 
 the more dreadful seems the height of His majesty, 
 the less fear they feel that dwell in the shadow 
 of it. JOHN RUSKIN. 
 
1 86 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 ONE adequate support 
 For the calamities of mortal life 
 Exists, one only ; an assured belief 
 That the procession of our fate, howe'er 
 Sad or disturbed, is ordered by a Being 
 Of infinite benevolence and power ; 
 Whose everlasting purposes embrace 
 All accidents, converting them to good. 
 The darts of anguish fix not where the seat 
 Of suffering hath been thoroughly fortified 
 By acquiescence in the Will supreme 
 For time and for eternity ; by faith, 
 Faith absolute in Gqd, including hope, 
 And the defence that lies in boundless love 
 Of His perfections ; with habitual dread 
 Of aught unworthily conceived, endured 
 Impatiently, ill-done, or left undone, 
 To the dishonor of His holy name. 
 Soul of our souls, and safeguard of the world ! 
 Sustain, thou only canst, the sick of heart ; 
 Restore their languid spirits, and recall 
 Their lost affections unto Thee and Thine ! 
 
 WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. 
 
 A SECOND voice was at mine ear, 
 A little whisper silver-clear, 
 A murmur, " Be of better cheer." 
 
 As from some blissful neighborhood, 
 
 A notice faintly understood, 
 
 " I see the end, and know the good." 
 
THE PERFECT TRUST. 187 
 
 A little hint to solace woe, 
 
 A hint, a whisper breathing low, 
 
 " I may not speak of what I know." 
 
 Like an /Eolian harp that wakes 
 
 No certain air, but overtakes 
 
 Far thought with music that it makes : 
 
 Such seem'd the whisper at my side : 
 
 " What is it thou knowest, sweet voice ? " I cried. 
 
 " A hidden hope," the voice replied : 
 
 So heavenly-toned, that in that hour 
 From out my sullen heart a power 
 Broke, like the rainbow from the shower, 
 
 To feel, altho' no tongue can prove, 
 That every cloud, that spreads above 
 And veileth love, itself is love. 
 
 And forth into the fields I went, 
 And Nature's living motion lent 
 The pulse of hope to discontent. 
 
 I wonder'd at the bounteous hours, 
 The slow result of winter showers : 
 You scarce could see the grass for flowers. 
 
 I wonder'd, while I paced along : 
 
 The woods were fill'd so full with song, 
 
 There seem'd no room for sense of wrong. 
 
1 88 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 So variously seem'd all things wrought, 
 I marvell'd how the mind was brought 
 To anchor by one gloomy thought ; 
 
 And wherefore rather I made choice 
 To commune with that barren voice, 
 Than him that said, " Rejoice ! rejoice ! " 
 
 ALFRED TENNYSON. 
 
 MORALITY. 
 
 WE cannot kindle when we will 
 The fire which in the heart resides ; 
 The spirit bloweth and is still, 
 In mystery our soul abides. 
 
 But tasks in hours of insight will'd 
 Can be through hours of gloom fulfill'd. 
 
 With aching hands and bleeding feet 
 We dig and heap, lay stone on stone ; 
 We bear the burden and the heat 
 Of the long day, and wish 't were done. 
 Not till the hours of light return, 
 All we have built do we discern. 
 
 Then, when the clouds are off the soul, 
 When thou dost bask in Nature's eye, 
 Ask how she viewed thy self-control, 
 Thy struggling, tasked morality 
 Nature, whose free, light, cheerful air, 
 Oft made thee, in thy gloom, despair. 
 
THE PERFECT TRUST. 189 
 
 And she, whose censure them dost dread, 
 Whose eye thou wast afraid to seek, 
 See, on her face a glow is spread, 
 A strong emotion on her cheek ! 
 " Ah, child ! " she cries, " that strife divine, 
 Whence was it, for it is not mine ? 
 
 " There is no effort on my brow 
 
 I do not strive, I do not weep ; 
 
 I rush with the swift spheres and glow 
 
 In joy, and when I will, I sleep. 
 Yet that severe, that earnest air, 
 I saw, I felt it once but where ? 
 
 " I knew not yet the gauge of time, 
 
 Nor wore the manacles of space ; 
 
 I felt it in some other clime, 
 
 I saw it in some other place. 
 
 'T was when the heavenly house I trod, 
 And lay upon the breast of God." 
 
 MATTHEW ARNOLD. 
 
 SO sometimes comes to soul and sense 
 The feeling which is evidence 
 That very near about us lies 
 The realm of spiritual mysteries. 
 The sphere of the supernal powers 
 Impinges on this world of ours. 
 The low and dark horizon lifts, 
 To light the scenic terror shifts ; 
 
I9O LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 The breath of a diviner air 
 Blows down the answer of a prayer : 
 That all our sorrow, pain, and doubt 
 A great compassion clasps about, 
 And law and goodness, love and force, 
 Are wedded fast beyond divorce. 
 Then duty leaves to love its task, 
 The beggar Self forgets to ask ; 
 With smile of trust and folded hands, 
 The passive soul in waiting stands 
 To feel, as flowers the sun and dew, 
 The One true Life its own renew. 
 
 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER. 
 
 T^AITH must reconcile me, and you, and all men, 
 * to that progress of events which is the con- 
 stant, and often the unwelcome, evolution of the 
 Divine will ; faith in God as absolute goodness as 
 well as supreme power ; faith in a love too tender 
 to be tyrannical, and too wise to be indulgent ; 
 faith in God as a Father, and as my Father, not 
 mine more than others', but theirs and mine, be- 
 yond denial, doubt, or a whisper of unbelief. Give 
 me this faith, establish it in my understanding, 
 plant it in my heart, and I shall neither tremble 
 nor complain ; but will open my arms to embrace 
 and take to my bosom all life's experience, change- 
 ful and strange and sad and irreconcilable with 
 my notions of wisdom and goodness though it 
 
THE PERFECT TRUST. IQI 
 
 seem to be. Let such a faith come, whence it 
 may, from the depths of my own nature de- 
 manding and therefore finding it, or from the high 
 heavens disclosing it in compassion for my want, 
 -let such a faith come into my weary soul, and I 
 will sink into a rest sweeter, a thousand times 
 sweeter, than the repose of a tired child in its 
 mother's arms. Open upon my spiritual sense, O 
 thou vision of an infinite love, and inspire this faith 
 in Him whom I call God, but who has a dearer 
 name for them to use who know Him as He may 
 be known ! EZRA STILES GANNETT. 
 
 T ET us trustingly leave these matters, where, 
 indeed, whether trustingly or not, we must 
 leave them, with the infinite Love which em- 
 braces all our loves, and the infinite Wisdom which 
 comprehends all our needs ; assured that the 
 Father of the house whose mansions are many, 
 and the Father of spirits whose goal is one, will 
 find the right place and connections and nurture 
 for every soul He has caused to be ; that in the 
 eternities the thing desired will arrive at last ; that 
 seeking and finding are divinely evened. Let us 
 rest in the thought that life must be richer than all 
 our experiences, nay, than our fondest dreams. 
 
 FREDERIC HENRY HEDGE. 
 
192 LEAVES OF HEALING, 
 
 Behold, I make all things new / 
 
 SO speaks to thee, O heart, 
 As the swift years depart 
 The re-creating Voice. 
 Turn not in vain regret 
 To thy fond yesterdays, 
 But rather forward set 
 Thy face toward the untrodden ways. 
 Open thine eyes to see 
 The good in store for thee, 
 New love, new thought, new service too 
 For Him who daily maketh thy life new. 
 Nor think that aught is lost 
 Or left behind upon the silent coast 
 Of thy spent years ; 
 Give o'er thy faithless fears. 
 Whate'er of real good 
 Of thought, or deed, or holier mood 
 Thy life hath known 
 Abideth still thine own, 
 And hath within significance 
 Of more than Time's inheritance. 
 Thy good is prophecy 
 Of better still to be. 
 In the future thou shalt find 
 How far the Fact hath left behind 
 Thy fondest Dream ; how deeper than all sense 
 Or thought of thine, thy life's sure Providence ! 
 FREDERICK L. HOSMER. 
 
THE PERFECT TRUST. 193 
 
 "\1 7"E make mistakes, or what we call such. The 
 nature that could fall into such mistake 
 exactly needs, and in the goodness of the dear 
 God is given, the living of it out. And beyond 
 this, I believe more, that in the pure and pa- 
 tient living of it out we come to find that we have 
 fallen, not into hopeless confusion of our own wild, 
 ignorant making ; but that the finger of God has 
 been at work among our lines, and that the emerg- 
 ing is into His blessed order ; that He is forever 
 making up for us our own undoings; that He 
 makes them up beforehand; that He evermore 
 
 restoreth our souls. 
 
 MRS. A. D. T. WHITNEY. 
 
 ''PHIS sorrow, which has cut down to the root, 
 has come, not as a spoiling of your life, but 
 
 as a preparation for it. 
 
 GEORGE ELIOT. 
 
 WE will trust God. The blank interstices 
 Men take for ruins, He will build into 
 With pillared marbles rare, or knit across 
 With generous arches, till the fane 's complete. 
 ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING 
 
 13 
 
194 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 shall never be one lost good! what was, 
 A shall live as before, 
 On the earth the broken arcs ; in the heaven 
 
 a perfect round. ROBERT BROWNING. 
 
 HEART of Love ! 
 Thou wilt not make of memory Hell in Heaven, 
 But grant a soul, for penitential pain, 
 A sweet forgetting of its stumbling steps 
 Through dangerous darkness to the upper light; 
 And on the brow Thou lovest Thou wilt write, 
 " Wear thou no scars, but be thou pure and white." 
 
 ADA C. BOWLES, 
 
 AND do not fear to hope. Can poet's brain 
 More than the Father's heart rich good invent? 
 Each time we smell the autumn's dying scent 
 We know the primrose time will come again ; 
 Not more we hope, nor less would soothe our pain. 
 Be bounteous in thy faith, for not misspent 
 Is confidence unto the Father lent ; 
 Thy need is sown and rooted for His rain ; 
 His thoughts are as thine own ; nor are His ways 
 Other than thine, but by their loftier sense 
 Of beauty infinite and love intense. 
 Work on. One day, beyond all thoughts of praise, 
 A sunny joy will crown thee with its rays ; 
 Nor other than thy need, thy recompense. 
 
 GEORGE MAC DONALD. 
 
THE PERFECT TRUST. 195 
 
 GOD is ever present, ever felt, 
 And where He vital breathes there must be joy. 
 When even at last the solemn hour shall come 
 And wing my mystic flight to future worlds, 
 I cheerful will obey ; there with new powers 
 Will rising wonders sing. I cannot go 
 Where Universal Love smiles not around : 
 Sustaining all yon orbs and all their suns : 
 From seeming evil still educing good, 
 And better thence again, and better still, 
 In infinite progression. But I lose 
 Myself in Him, in Light Ineffable ! 
 Come, then, expressive silence ! muse His praise. 
 
 JAMES THOMSON. 
 
 sense of the Universal is the sense of the 
 * Divine everywhere. We live by faith in the 
 Divine thought and purpose. Earth and stars, 
 sun, sky and air, plants and animals, the dust- 
 atom and man, are all significant to us by God's 
 working in them. The darker providence we rest 
 in Him by faith. The thing of beauty we hail with 
 joy. The life of virtue, tenderness, aspiration, so 
 rich in thought, blessings, praise and prayer, we 
 receive as the divine pledge to man. Life be- 
 comes more and more. Our relationships to atoms 
 and stars, creatures and men, are sacred. Con- 
 scious duties are upon us. And more than those 
 
196 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 duties are is God, in the divine moralities working 
 the infinite work. In the faith in God, coming on 
 the unseen courses of the Spirit, man in these 
 scenes of outer nature, and in living and in dying, 
 is comforted. God is better and greater than all 
 earth's need, than all human longing, need and 
 joy. SILAS W. SUTTON. 
 
 TNEFFABLE is the union of man and God in 
 * every act of the soul. How dear, how sooth- 
 ing to man, arises the idea of God, peopling the 
 lonely place, effacing the scars of our mistakes and 
 disappointments ! It is the doubling of the heart 
 itself, nay, the infinite enlargement of the heart 
 with a power of growth to a new infinity on every 
 side. It inspires in man an infallible trust. He 
 has not the conviction, but the sight, that the best 
 is the true, and may in that thought easily dismiss 
 all particular uncertainties and fears, and adjourn 
 to the sure revelation of time, the solution of his 
 riddles. He is sure that his welfare is dear to the 
 heart of being. He believes that he cannot escape 
 from his good. The things that are really for thee 
 gravitate to thee. You are running to seek your 
 friend. Let your feet run, but your mind need not. 
 If you do not find him will you not acquiesce that 
 it is best you should not find him? for there is a 
 
THE PERFECT TRUST. 197 
 
 Power which, as it is in you, is in 'him also, and 
 could therefore very well bring you together. You 
 are preparing to go and render a service to which 
 your talent and your taste invite you. Has it not 
 occurred to you that you have no right to go unless 
 you are equally willing to be prevented from going ? , 
 O believe, as thou livest, that every sound that is 
 spoken over the round world, which thou oughtest 
 to hear, will vibrate on thine ear ! Every proverb, 
 every book, every byword that belongs to thee for 
 aid or comfort, surely shall come home through 
 straight or winding passages. Every friend whom 
 not thy fantastic will, but the great and tender 
 heart in thee craveth, shall lock thee in his em- 
 brace. And this because the heart in thee is the 
 heart of all ; not a valve, not a wall, not an inter- 
 section is there anywhere in nature, but one Life 
 rolls uninterruptedly an endless circulation through 
 all men, as the water of the globe is all one sea, 
 
 and, truly seen, its tide is one. 
 
 RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 
 
 TT came across me the other night, driving by 
 moonlight through this grand and solemn Pass, 
 that one might read those words, " Sorrow not even 
 as others that have no hope," in an inverse sense 
 to the generally received. " Sorrow not less, but 
 
198 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 more ! You who have hope need not fear to 
 fathom the unfathomableness of your earthly loss. 
 You who have hope need never seek to get rid of 
 your sacred Sorrow. You may safely receive her, 
 a life-long inmate of your inmost heart. There she 
 will dwell, suffering nothing low or worldly to dwell 
 with her. Sorrow greatly, abidingly, consciously, 
 thankfully you who have hope ! " 
 
 THE STORY OF WILLIAM AND LUCY SMITH. 
 
 r PHE little basket, carried up among the hills, 
 furnished beneath the hand of Christ an 
 ample feast. And no less a marvel does God 
 work with all the pure in heart who go up into 
 the lonely place to meet him. Let them have but 
 the poorest pilgrim's unleavened cake of sincerity 
 and faith; and when they have spread their in- 
 sufficiency before God, and broken it into its 
 worthlessness for his blessing to enter, they shall 
 return richer than they came and gather more 
 than they had brought. The smallest spiritual 
 store, taken into the most retired spot, has a 
 self-multiplying power; and if only used with 
 holy trust, will pass the dimensions of nature and 
 betray the resources of the infinite. 
 
 JAMES MAR TINEA u. 
 
THE PERFECT TRUST. 199 
 
 E may calmly front the morrow in the negli- 
 gency of that trust which carries God with it, 
 and so hath already the whole future in the bottom 
 of the heart. RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 
 
 His children struggling faithfully with the 
 burden of life, His heavenly pity is ever on 
 the watch ; nor does He leave them long in the 
 languor of a weary mind, but comes Himself with 
 the blessed inspiration that renews their strength 
 as the eagle's. There is nothing true in earth or 
 heaven if it be not a law of His that holy deed 
 shall end in holy thought and holy love ; and pa- 
 tient obedience down upon the dust mature the 
 rapid wings by which to soar and gladly worship 
 at heaven's gate. JAMES MARTINEAU. 
 
 AIT'HEN a man comes to the knowledge that 
 God is not far off, but nearer to his soul 
 than he can be to the material world ; . . . when 
 still further, feeling that God by His indwelling 
 Spirit is the substance and support of his dearest 
 life, the man sees the whole world illuminated, so 
 that the Eternal shines everywhere through the 
 temporal, and nature is only the vesture or Ian- 
 
2OO LEA VES OF HEALING. 
 
 guage of Spirit, and nothing is so certain as God's 
 thought and providence in all things ; and when 
 such sense of the Infinite and such vision prompt 
 and nourish humility and prayerfulness in the 
 heart ; then life becomes a sacrifice of thanksgiv- 
 ing, and a peace which death does not threaten 
 and which sorrow cannot break broods in the 
 sanctuary of the soul. THOMAS STARR KING. 
 
 OGOD, unseen, but ever near, 
 Our blessed rest art Thou ; 
 And we, in love that hath no fear, 
 
 Take refuge with Thee now. 
 All soiled with dust our pilgrim feet. 
 
 And weary with the way; 
 We seek Thy shelter from the heat 
 And burden of life's day. 
 
 Oh, welcome in the wilderness 
 
 The shadow of Thy love ; 
 The stream that springs our thirst to bless, 
 
 The manna from above ! 
 Awhile beside the fount we stay 
 
 And eat this bread of Thine, 
 Then go rejoicing on our way, 
 
 Renewed with strength divine. 
 
 SAMUEL LONGFELLOW. 
 
THE PERFECT TRUST. 2OI 
 
 I LOOK to Thee in every need, 
 And never look in vain ; 
 I feel Thy strong and tender love, 
 
 And all is well again : 
 The thought of Thee is mightier far 
 Than sin and pain and sorrow are. 
 
 Discouraged in the work of life, 
 
 Disheartened by its load, 
 Shamed by its failures or its fears, 
 
 I sink beside the road ; 
 But let me only think of Thee, 
 And then new heart springs up in me. 
 
 Thy calmness bends serene above, 
 
 My restlessness to still ; 
 Around me flows Thy quickening life, 
 
 To nerve my faltering will ; 
 Thy presence fills my solitude ; 
 Thy providence turns all to good. 
 
 Embosomed deep in Thy dear love, 
 
 Held in Thy law, I stand ; 
 Thy hand in all things I behold, 
 
 And all things in Thy hand ; 
 Thou leadest me by unsought ways, 
 And turn'st my mourning into praise. 
 
 SAMUEL LONGFELLOW. 
 
2O2 LEA VES OF HEALING. 
 
 Lo ! amid the press, 
 
 The whirl and hum and pressure of my day, 
 I hear Thy garment's sweep, Thy seamless dress, 
 And close beside my work and weariness 
 
 Discern Thy gracious form, not far away, 
 But very near, O Lord, to help and bless. 
 
 The busy fingers fly, the eye may see 
 
 Only the glancing needle which they hold, 
 
 But all my life is blossoming inwardly, 
 
 And every breath is like a litany ; 
 While through each labor, like a thread of gold, 
 
 Is woven the sweet consciousness of Thee. 
 
 SUSAN COOLIDGE. 
 
 THATHER, to Thee we look in all our sorrow. 
 I- Thou art the fountain whence our healing flows ; 
 Dark though the night, joy cometh with the morrow ; 
 Safely they rest who on Thy love repose. 
 
 When fond hopes fail and skies are dark before us, 
 When the vain cares that vex our life increase, 
 
 Comes with its calm the thought that Thou art o'er us, 
 And we grow quiet, folded in Thy peace. 
 
 Nought shall affright us on Thy goodness leaning, 
 Low in the heart faith singeth still her song; 
 
 Chastened by pain we learn life's deeper meaning, 
 And in our weakness Thou dost make us strong. 
 
THE PERFECT TRUST. 203 
 
 Patient, O heart, though heavy be thy sorrows ! 
 
 Be not cast down, disquieted in vain ; 
 Yet shalt thou praise Him when these darkened 
 
 furrows, 
 
 Where now He plougheth, wave with golden grain. 
 
 FREDERICK L. HOSMER. 
 
 OLOVE Divine, of all that is 
 The sweetest still and best, 
 Fain would I come and rest to-night 
 Upon thy tender breast. 
 
 As tired of sin as any child 
 
 Was ever tired of play, 
 When evening's hush has folded in 
 
 The noises of the day ; 
 
 When, just for very weariness. 
 
 The little one will creep 
 Into the arms that have no joy 
 
 Like holding him in sleep ; 
 
 And looking upward to Thy face, 
 So gentle, sweet, and strong 
 
 In all its looks for those who love, 
 So pitiful of wrong, 
 
 I pray Thee turn me not away, 
 
 For, sinful though I be, 
 Thou knowest everything I need 
 
 And all my need of Thee. 
 
2O4 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 And yet the spirit in my heart 
 
 Says, Wherefore should I pray 
 That Thou shouldst seek me with Thy love, 
 
 Since Thou dost seek alway ? 
 
 And dost not even wait until 
 
 I urge my steps to Thee ; 
 But in the darkness of 'my life 
 
 Art coming still to me, 
 
 And still Thy love will beckon me, 
 
 And still Thy strength will come 
 In many ways to bear me up 
 
 And bring me to my home. 
 
 I pray not, then, because I would ; 
 
 I pray because I must ; 
 There is no meaning in my prayer 
 
 But thankfulness and trust. 
 
 And Thou wilt hear the thought I mean, 
 
 And not the words I say ; 
 Wilt hear the thanks among the words 
 
 That only seem to pray ; 
 
 And still, for all my sighs, my heart 
 
 Has sung itself to rest, 
 O Love Divine, most far and near, 
 
 Upon Thy tender breast. 
 
 JOHN W. CHADWICK. 
 
THE PERFECT TRUST. 2Q$ 
 
 WIEGENLIED. 
 
 BE still and sleep, my soul ! 
 Now gentle-footed Night 
 In softly shadowed stole 
 
 Holds all the day from sight. 
 
 Why shouldst thou lie and stare 
 
 Against the dark, and toss, 
 And live again thy care, 
 
 Thine agony and loss ? 
 
 'T was given thee to live, 
 
 And thou hast lived it all ; 
 Let that suffice, nor give 
 
 One thought what may befall. 
 
 Thou hast no need to wake, 
 
 Thou art no sentinel ; 
 Love all the care will take, 
 
 And Wisdom watcheth well. 
 
 Weep not, think not, but rest ! 
 
 The stars in silence roll; 
 On the world's mother-breast, 
 
 Be still and sleep, my soul ! 
 
 EDWARD ROWLAND SILL. 
 
2O6 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 FOR His great love has compassed 
 Our nature and our need ; 
 We know not ; but He knoweth, 
 And He will bless indeed. 
 
 Therefore, O Heavenly Father, 
 
 Give what is best to me ; 
 And take the wants unanswered 
 
 As offerings made to Thee. 
 
 ANON. 
 
 HE LEADETH ME. 
 
 IN pastures green ? Not always ; sometimes He, 
 Who knoweth best, in kindness leadeth me 
 In weary ways, where heavy shadows be. 
 
 Out of the sunshine warm and soft and bright; 
 Out of the sunshine into darkest night : 
 I oft would faint with sorrow and affright, 
 
 Only for this I know He holds my hand ; 
 So, whether led in green or desert land, 
 I trust, although I may not understand. 
 
 And by still waters ? No, not always so ; 
 Oft times the heavy tempests round me blow, 
 And o'er my soul the waves and billows go. 
 
THE PERFECT TRUST. 2O/ 
 
 But when the storm beats highest, and I cry 
 Aloud for help, the Master standeth by, 
 And whispers to my soul : " Lo, it is I." 
 
 Above the tempest wild I hear Him say, 
 " Beyond the darkness lies the perfect day ; 
 In every path of thine I lead the way." 
 
 So whether on the hill-tops high and fair 
 
 I dwell, or in the sunless valleys where 
 
 The shadows lie what matter ? He is there. 
 
 So where He leads me I can safely go; 
 And in the blest hereafter I shall know 
 Why in His wisdom He hath led me so. 
 
 HENRY H. BARRY. 
 
 BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 L/EAR Lord, I bring to Thee 
 This life that from Thine own its being drew ; 
 All I have been, all aspirations new, 
 
 All I may ever be. 
 
 I lay at Thy dear feet 
 
 My past, with all its hopes and cares and needs, 
 Its purposes, that failed like broken reeds, 
 
 Its record incomplete. 
 
2O8 LEA VES OF HEALING. 
 
 This tangled web of mine 
 Wherein I find so little good or fair, 
 May yet, if trusted to Thy love and care, 
 
 Take on a light divine. 
 
 The weary sense of wrong, 
 Which through the long, long night maintained its 
 
 sway, 
 Has vanished in the light of breaking day, 
 
 And left instead a song. 
 
 And " through the glass " I see 
 That even my mistakes, my faults and sins, 
 Have taught me how Thy comforting begins 
 
 And shown the way to Thee. 
 
 My future, Lord, I bring ; 
 May it be purified by Thy dear love, 
 Although the sacred baptism from above 
 
 Be one of suffering. 
 
 What harm can ever come 
 To us, who know Thy love can have no end? 
 Thou leadest us, an ever-present Friend, 
 
 Unto the light of Home. 
 
 How all these wrongs we see 
 Can lead to right, I do not understand ; 
 But, e'er the daylight breaks, I clasp Thy hand 
 
 And trust myself to Thee. 
 
 EMMA E. MAREAN. 
 
THE PERFECT TRUST. 
 
 GOD 
 
 Be praised for anguish, which has tried 
 For beauty, which has satisfied : 
 
 For this world's presence, half within 
 And half without me thought and scene 
 This sense of Being and Having been. 
 
 I thank Thee that my soul hath room 
 For Thy grand world. Both guests may come 
 Beauty to soul Body to tomb. 
 
 I am content to be so weak. 
 Put strength into the words I speak, 
 And I am strong in what I seek. 
 
 I am content to be so bare 
 Before the archers, everywhere 
 My wounds being stroked by heavenly air. 
 
 I laid my soul before Thy feet, 
 That Images of fair and sweet 
 Should walk to other men on it. 
 
 I am content to feel the step 
 Of each pure Image! let those keep 
 To mandragore, who care to sleep. 
 
 I am content to touch the brink 
 Of the other goblet, and I think 
 My bitter drink a wholesome drink. 
 
2 1 LEA VES OF HEALING. 
 
 Because my portion was assigned 
 Wholesome and bitter Thou art kind, 
 And I am blessed to my mind. 
 
 Gifted for giving, I receive 
 The maythorn, and its scent outgive. 
 I grieve not that I once did grieve. 
 
 In my large joy of sight and touch 
 Beyond what others count for such, 
 I am content to suffer much. 
 
 I know is all the mourner saith, 
 Knowledge by suffering entereth ; 
 And Life is perfected by Death. 
 
 ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING. 
 
 THE HILLS OF THE LORD. 
 
 GOD ploughed one day with an earthquake, 
 And drove His furrows deep ! 
 The huddling plains upstarted, 
 The hills were all a-leap ! 
 
 But that is the mountains' secret, 
 
 Age-hidden in their breast ; 
 " God's peace is everlasting " 
 
 Are the dream-words of their rest. 
 
 He hath made them the haunt of beauty, 
 
 The home elect of His grace ; 
 He spreadeth His mornings on them, 
 
 His sunsets light their face. 
 
THE PERFECT TRUST. 211 
 
 The people of tired cities 
 
 Come up to their shrines and pray * 
 God freshens again within them, 
 
 As He passes by all day. 
 
 And lo, I have caught their secret, 
 
 The beauty deeper than all, 
 This faith, that life's hard moments, 
 
 When the jarring sorrows befall, 
 
 Are but God ploughing His mountains; 
 
 And the mountains yet shall be 
 The source of His grace and freshness 
 
 And His peace everlasting to me. 
 
 WILLIAM C. GANNETT. 
 
 HOW beautiful it is to be alive ! 
 To wake each morn, as if the Maker's grace 
 Did us afresh from nothingness derive, 
 
 That we might sing, " How happy is our case ! 
 How beautiful it is to be alive ! " 
 
 Lo ! all around us His bright servants stand : 
 And if with frowning brows for their disguise, 
 Yet with such wells of love in their deep eyes, 
 
 And so strong rescue hidden in their hands ! 
 
 And ever towards man's height of nobleness 
 
 They strive some new progression to contrive ; 
 Till, just as any other friend's, we press 
 Death's hand ; and having died, feel none the less 
 
 How beautiful it is to be alive ! 
 
 HENRY SEPTIMUS SUTTON. 
 
212 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 MY PSALM. 
 
 ALL as God wills, who wisely heeds 
 To give or to withhold, 
 And knoweth more of all my needs 
 Than all my prayers have told ! 
 
 Enough that blessings undeserved 
 Have marked my erring track ; 
 
 That wheresoe'er my feet have swerved, 
 His chastening turned me back ; 
 
 That more and more a Providence 
 
 Of love is understood, 
 Making the springs of time and sense 
 
 Sweet with eternal good ; 
 
 That death seems but a covered way 
 
 Which opens into light, 
 Wherein no blinded child can stray 
 
 Beyond the Father's sight ; 
 
 That care and trial seem at last, 
 Through Memory's sunset air, 
 
 Like mountain-ranges overpast, 
 In purple distance fair ; 
 
 That all the jarring notes of life 
 
 Seem blending in a psalm, 
 And all the angles of its strife 
 
 Slow rounding into calm. 
 
THE PERFECT TRUST. 213 
 
 And so the shadows fall apart, 
 
 And so the west winds play ; 
 And all the windows of my heart 
 
 I open to the day. 
 
 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER. 
 
 AS the bird trims her to the gale, 
 I trim myself to the storm of time, 
 I man the rudder, reef the sail, 
 Obey the voice at eve obeyed at prime : 
 " Lowly faithful, banish fear, 
 Right onward drive unharmed; 
 The port, well worth the cruise, is near, 
 And every wave is charmed." 
 
 RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 
 
 BE like the bird that, halting in her flight 
 Awhile, on boughs too slight, 
 Feels them give way beneath her, and yet sings, 
 
 Knowing that she hath wings. 
 
 VICTOR HUGO. 
 
 OUFFERING loses its smart before genuine 
 ^ trust. Trust proves its strength in suffering. 
 True trust is struck by suffering as the great tree 
 of the forest by the storm, to be tossed, torn, and 
 settled deeper in everlasting strength. The suffer- 
 ing is for a little while, while the trust is trans- 
 formed into eternal joy. 
 
 PROTAP CHUNDER MOZOOMDAR. 
 
214 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 MY MOTHER'S HYMN. 
 
 T IKE patient saint of olden time, 
 
 -L' With lovely face almost divine, 
 
 So good, so beautiful and fair, 
 
 Her very attitude a prayer ; 
 
 I heard her sing, so low and sweet, 
 
 " His loving-kindness oh, how great ! " 
 
 Turning, beheld the sacred face, 
 
 So full of trust and patient grace. 
 
 " He justly claims a song from me, 
 His loving-kindness, oh, how free ! " 
 Sweetly thus did run the song, 
 
 " His loving-kindness," all day long. 
 Trusting, praising, day by day, 
 She sang the sweetest roundelay : 
 "He near my soul has always stood, 
 His loving-kindness oh, how good ! " 
 
 " He safely leads my soul along, 
 
 His loving-kindness oh, how strong ! " 
 
 So strong to lead her on the way 
 
 To that eternal better day, 
 
 Where, safe at last in that blest home, 
 
 All care and weariness are gone, 
 
 She sings with rapture and surprise 
 
 " His loving-kindness " in the skies. 
 
 ANON. 
 
THE PERFECT TRUST. 215 
 
 IN heavenly love abiding, 
 No change my heart shall fear ; 
 And safe is such confiding, 
 
 For nothing changes here. 
 The storm may roar without me, 
 
 My heart may low be laid ; 
 But God is round about me, 
 And can I be dismayed ? 
 
 Wherever He may. guide me, 
 
 No want shall turn me back ; 
 My Shepherd is beside me, 
 
 And nothing can I lack. 
 His wisdom ever waketh, 
 
 His sight is never dim ; 
 He knows the way He taketh, 
 
 And I will walk with him. 
 
 Green pastures are before me, 
 
 Which yet I have not seen ; 
 Bright skies will soon be o'er me, 
 
 Where darkest clouds have been. 
 My hope I cannot measure, 
 
 My path in life is free, 
 My Father has my treasure, 
 
 And He will walk with me. 
 
 ANNA L. WARING. 
 
2l6 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 AS the hart panteth after the water brooks, 
 So panteth my soul after Thee, O God. 
 
 My soul thirsteth for God, for the living God : 
 
 When shall I come and appear before God? 
 
 O my God, my soul is cast down within me : 
 
 Deep calleth unto deep at the noise of Thy water- 
 spouts : 
 
 All Thy waves and Thy billows are gone over me. 
 
 Yet the Lord will command His loving-kindness in the 
 daytime, 
 
 And in the night His song shall be with me, 
 
 Even a prayer unto the God of my life. 
 
 O send out Thy light and Thy truth ; let them lead 
 me, 
 
 Unto God, my exceeding joy. 
 
 Why art thou cast down, O my soul ? 
 
 And why art thou disquieted within me ? 
 
 Hope thou in God : for I shall yet praise him, 
 
 Who is the health of my countenance, and my God. 
 
 THE PSALMS. 
 
 O FATHER, I have nought to plead, 
 In earth beneath or heaven above, 
 But just my own exceeding need, 
 And Thy exceeding love. 
 
 JANE Fox CREWDSON. 
 
THE PERFECT TRUST. 2 1/ 
 
 TUST as I am, without one plea 
 J Save that Thy love is seeking me, 
 And that Thou bid'st me come to Thee, 
 O loving God ! I come. 
 
 Just as I am, and waiting not 
 To rid my soul of one dark blot, 
 To Thee whose love can cleanse each spot, 
 O loving God ! I come. 
 
 Just as I am, though tossed about 
 With many a conflict, many a doubt, 
 Fightings within, and fears without, 
 O loving God ! I come. 
 
 Just as I am, Thou wilt receive, 
 Wilt welcome, pardon, heal, relieve ; 
 Because Thy promise I believe, 
 O loving God ! I come. 
 
 HYMNS OF THE SPIRIT. 
 
 n^HE " uncovenanted mercies of God," we 
 desire no less; we hope for no better. 
 Those are the mercies beyond our height, beyond 
 our depth, beyond our reach. We know in whom 
 we have believed, and we look for that which it 
 hath not entered into the heart of man to con- 
 ceive. Shall God's thought be surpassed by man's 
 
2 1 8 LEA VES OF HEALING. 
 
 thoughts? God's -giving by man's asking? God's 
 creation by man's imagination? No. Let us 
 climb to the height of our Alpine desires ; let us 
 leave them behind us and ascend the spear-pointed 
 Himalayas of our aspirations ; still shall we find 
 the depth of God's sapphire above us ; still shall 
 we find the heavens higher than the earth, and His 
 thoughts and His ways higher than our thoughts 
 and our ways. 
 
 Ah, Lord ! be Thou in all our being ; as not in 
 the Sundays of our time alone, so not in the cham- 
 bers of our hearts alone. We dare not think that 
 Thou canst not, carest not ; that some things are 
 not for Thy beholding, some questions not to be 
 asked of Thee. For are we not all Thine utterly 
 Thine ? That which a man speaks not to his fel- 
 low, we speak to Thee. Our very passions we 
 hold up to Thee, and say, " Behold, Lord ! Think 
 about us." We would not escape from our history 
 by fleeing into the wilderness, by hiding our 
 heads in the sands of forgetfulness, or the repent- 
 ance that comes of pain, or the lethargy of hope- 
 lessness. We take it, as our very life, in our hand, 
 and flee with it unto Thee. Triumphant is the 
 answer which thou boldest for every doubt. It 
 may be we could not understand it yet, even if 
 Thou didst speak it " with most miraculous organ." 
 
THE PERFECT TRUST. 21$ 
 
 But Thou shall at least find faith in the earth, O 
 Lord, if Thou comest to look for it now, the 
 faith of ignorant but hoping children, who know 
 that they do not know, and believe that Thou 
 knowest. GEORGE MAC DONALD. 
 
 "IT /"HAT a beautiful picture ! (Psalm xxiii.) Its 
 * * author felt that he, at least, had found in 
 all the confusion of the world some one to guard 
 and guide him. Henceforth there are to be for 
 him no haunting, unsatisfied longings : " I shall 
 not want." " For His name's sake," because of 
 what He is in Himself, His own goodness, He 
 guides me ever in right paths. Though my way 
 be through darkest shadows, I will have no fear ; 
 He knows, leads, and comforts me. However 
 numerous my enemies, however helpless I seem in 
 their presence, whatever adverse circumstances 
 close me round, He spreads my table of supply even 
 in their very presence. My head is anointed as one 
 prepared for a festival. My cup of gratitude run- 
 neth over. The future has no fears for me; for 
 only goodness and mercy will follow me attend- 
 ants about my pathway all the days of my life. 
 And as a guest, I will dwell in the house of this 
 mighty Helper and Friend forever. And all the 
 way through is a lingering, haunting suggestion of 
 
22O LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 plenty and peace and perfect rest. We see the 
 background of " green pastures," while the floating 
 cloud of the calm sky by day, and the quiet stars 
 by night, are reflected in the " still waters ; " or 
 as the margin has it, the "waters of rest." 
 
 MINOT J. SAVAGE. 
 
 WAIT ON THE LORD. 
 
 Wait on the Lord ! Be of good courage and He 
 shall strengthen thy heart. Wait, I say, on the Lord. 
 PSALM xxvii. 14. 
 
 UPON the Psalmist's word 
 A Rabbin's voice is heard 
 Commenting, saying 
 To souls praying, 
 "Ora 
 
 Et iterum or a; 
 Veniet hora 
 Qua tibi dabitur" 
 
 I hear a Master's speech 
 The same faith teach 
 A Master dear to heart, 
 Standing far apart, 
 So great, so high above, 
 And yet with lowly men 
 Living, in toil and pain, 
 In meekness and in love. 
 
THE PERFECT TRUST. 221 
 
 He saith, " Ask, it shall be given; 
 
 Seek, ye shall find in heaven; 
 
 Knock, it shall opened be." 
 
 But not so sweet to know 
 
 The Master's lips have spoken thus or so 
 
 As my soul leaps to see 
 
 He speaketh like to all the holy men : 
 
 And softly comes again, 
 
 Like an echo in my ear, 
 
 The song of Hebrew seer, 
 
 " Ora 
 
 Et iterum or a; 
 
 Veniet hora 
 
 Qua tibi dabitur" 
 
 O when the soul is faint, 
 
 When visions die, 
 
 When life is wrecked upon complaint, 
 
 And scattered lie 
 
 Hope's arrows years long, 
 
 With purpose strong, 
 
 Kept bound within one sheaf 
 
 When pain and loss and grief 
 
 Prey on us, 
 
 When thought and doubt and love 
 
 Weigh on us, 
 
 Then hear all sounds above, 
 
 " Ora, 
 
 Et iterum or a; 
 
 Veniet hora 
 
 Qua tibi dabitur." J AMES VILA BLAKE. 
 
222 LEA VES OF HEALING. 
 
 SOMETIME, SOMEWHERE. 
 
 UNANSWERED yet? the prayer your lips have 
 pleaded 
 
 In agony of heart these many years ? 
 Doth faith begin to fail ; is hope departing, 
 
 And think you all in vain those falling tears ? 
 Say not the Father hath not heard your prayer ; 
 You shall have your desire sometime, somewhere. 
 
 Unanswered yet ? though when you first presented 
 This one petition at the Father's throne, 
 
 It seemed you could not wait the time of asking, 
 So urgent was your heart to make it known. 
 
 Though years have passed since then, do not despair, 
 
 The Lord will answer you sometime, somewhere. 
 
 Unanswered yet ? Nay, do not say ungranted ; 
 
 Perhaps your part is not wholly done. 
 The work began when first your prayer was uttered, 
 
 And God will finish what He has begun. 
 If you will keep the incense burning there, 
 His glory you shall see sometime, somewhere. 
 
 Unanswered yet ? Faith cannot be unanswered. 
 
 Her feet were firmly planted on the Rock. 
 Amid the wildest storms she stands undaunted, 
 
 Nor quails before the loudest thunder shock. 
 She knows Omnipotence has heard her prayer, 
 And cries " It shall be done ! sometime, somewhere." 
 
 ROBERT BROWNING. 
 
THE PERFECT TRUST. 22$ 
 
 IF human minds look out into the darkness 
 And gather rays of truth, 't is His sight sees ; 
 If human hearts do love, 't is His love loves ; 
 'T is His joy joys, when joyful hearts rejoice ; 
 He is eye's eye, heart's heart and being's being. 
 
 It cannot be but grief and pain will come : 
 
 We know not how to strive and never fail ; 
 
 We know not how to have and not to lose ; 
 
 There is no way to love and not to fear ; 
 
 There is no way to love and not to feel 
 
 The pangs of parting when seas roll between, 
 
 Or when in vain we seek a faithless love, 
 
 Or when less loss the sky-pits yawn, and friends 
 
 Fall out of sight into their blue abyss. 
 
 Then the One Lord takes up our weary woes 
 
 As he takes up the isles, or steers a star. 
 
 So wonderful his laws that he hath ways 
 
 To cope with our great pain. 
 
 God hath two temples 
 The infinite of starry heavens, one, 
 Where shining ranks of servants throng and move 
 In unimaginable multitudes 
 At His command : the lowly soul 
 The other, where He hath made His mercy-seat. 
 One Life and Love He is through all that vast, 
 From star to heart. Swifter than light 
 Or thought He comes from some great sun convulsed, 
 To hold a heart that it break not too far. 
 
224 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 He weighs it in His hand against a world ; 
 It is as heavy to the Lord as all 
 His suns if it the more hath need of healing. 
 Praise ! Praise ! Thanksgiving ! Praise ! Amen ! 
 
 JAMES VILA BLAKE. 
 
 A BIRTHDAY PRAYER. 
 
 ART Thou the Life? 
 To Thee, then, do I owe each beat and breath, 
 And wait Thy ordering of my hour of death 
 In peace or strife. 
 
 Art Thou the Light ? 
 
 To Thee, then, in the sunshine or the cloud, 
 Or in my chamber lone or in the crowd, 
 
 I lift my sight. 
 
 Art Thou the Truth ? 
 
 To Thee, then, loved and craved and sought of yore, 
 I consecrate my manhood, o'er and o'er, 
 
 As erst my youth. 
 
 Art Thou the Strong ? 
 
 To Thee, then, though the air be thick with night, 
 I trust the seeming unprotected Right, 
 
 And leave the Wrong. 
 
 Art Thou the Wise ? 
 
 To Thee, then, would I bring each useless care, 
 And bid my soul unsay her idle prayer, 
 
 And hush her cries. 
 
THE PERFECT TRUST. 22$ 
 
 Art Thou the Good? 
 
 To Thee, then, with a thirsting heart I turn, 
 And at Thy fountain stand and hold my urn, 
 
 As aye I stood. 
 
 Forgive the call ! 
 
 I cannot shut Thee from my sense or soul, 
 I cannot lose me in the boundless whole, 
 
 For Thou art All. 
 
 FRANCIS E. ABBOT. 
 
 THERE 'S ajwideness in God's mercy, 
 Like the wideness of the sea : 
 There's a kindness in His justice, 
 Which is more than liberty. 
 
 For the love of God is broader 
 Than the measures of man's mind ; 
 
 And the heart of the Eternal 
 Is most wonderfully kind. 
 
 If our love were but more simple, 
 We should take Him at His word, 
 
 And our lives would be all sunshine 
 In the sweetness of our Lord. 
 
 FREDERICK WILLIAM FABER. 
 
 GOD'S greatness flows around our incompleteness, 
 Round our restlessness, His rest. 
 
 ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING. 
 '5 
 
226 LEA VES OF HEALING. 
 
 THE THOUGHT OF GOD. 
 
 ONE thought I have, my ample creed, 
 So deep it is and broad, 
 And equal to my every need, 
 It is the thought of God. 
 
 Each morn unfolds some fresh surprise, 
 
 I feast at Life's full board ; 
 And rising in my inner skies 
 
 Shines forth the thought of God. 
 
 At night my gladness is my prayer ; 
 
 I drop my daily load, 
 And every care is pillowed there 
 
 Upon the thought of God. 
 
 I ask not far before to see, 
 
 But take in trust my road ; 
 Life, death, and immortality 
 
 Are in my thought of God. 
 
 To this their secret strength they owed 
 
 The martyr's path who trod ; 
 The fountains of their patience flowed 
 
 From out their thought of God. 
 
 Be still the light upon my way, 
 
 My pilgrim staff and rod, 
 My rest by night, my strength by day, 
 
 O blessed thought of God ! 
 
 FREDERICK L. HOSMER. 
 
THE PERFECT TRUST. 22? 
 
 I REPORT, as a man may of God's work all's 
 love, yet all 's law ! 
 
 Now I lay down the judgeship he lent me. Each fac- 
 ulty tasked 
 
 To perceive him, has gained an abyss, when a dew- 
 drop was asked. 
 
 Have I knowledge ? confounded it shrivels at wisdom 
 laid bare. 
 
 Have I forethought ? how purblind, how blank, to the 
 Infinite care ! 
 
 Do I task any faculty highest to image success? 
 
 I but open my eyes, and perfection, no more and no 
 less, 
 
 In the kind I imagined, full-fronts me, and God is seen 
 God 
 
 In the star, in the stone, in the flesh, in the soul and 
 the clod. 
 
 And thus looking within and around me, I ever renew 
 
 (With that stoop of the soul which in bending upraises 
 it too) 
 
 The submission of man's nothing-perfect to God's All- 
 Complete, 
 
 As by each new obeisance in spirit, I climb to his 
 feet. 
 
 ROBERT BROWNING. 
 
228 LEAVES OF HEALING. 
 
 TITHEN ye glorify the Lord, exalt Him as much 
 as ye can ; for even yet He will far exceed : 
 and when ye exalt Him, put forth all your strength 
 and be not weary, for ye can never go far enough : 
 there are yet greater things than these be, for we 
 have seen but a few of His works. 
 
 All the works of the Lord are good, so that a 
 man cannot say, This is worse than that; for in 
 time they shall all be well approved. 
 
 Therefore praise ye the Lord with the whole 
 heart. Bless the name of the Lord. 
 
 ECCLESIASTICUS. 
 
 WHEN ye pray, say, Father. JESUS. 
 
Blessed be God, the Father of mercies and God 
 of all comfort, who comforteth us in all our afflic- 
 tion, that we may be able to comfort them that are 
 in any affliction, through the comfort wherewith we 
 ourselves are comforted of God, 2 COR. i. 3, 4. 
 
INDEX OF AUTHORS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 ABBOT, FRANCIS E 224 
 
 Allen, Joseph Henry 36 
 
 Ames, Charles G 90 
 
 Ancient Hebrew Ritual 143 
 
 Anonymous 109, 206, 214 
 
 Arnold, Edwin 63, 69, 93, 131 
 
 Arnold, Matthew 188 
 
 Barry, Henry H 206 
 
 Bassi, Ugo 50 
 
 Beecher, Henry Ward 73 
 
 Bellows, Henry W 46, 47, 85, 156 
 
 Bible . . . n, 23, 57, 61, 78, 81, 93, 101, 113, 117, 119, 
 123, 143, 152, 155, 164, 167, 179, 183, 216, 228, 229 
 
 Blake, James Vila 220, 223 
 
 Bonar, Horatius 112, 114 
 
 Borthwick, Jane 163 
 
 Bourg, Anne du 92 
 
 Bowles, Ada C 194 
 
 Brooke, Stopford A 48 
 
 Brooks, Charles T 137 
 
 Browning, Elizabeth Barrett . 54, 100, 104, 193, 209, 225 
 Browning, Robert 100, 169,194, 222, 227 
 
232 INDEX OF AUTHORS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Bryant, William Cullen in 
 
 Burleigh, William H 172 
 
 Calthrop, Samuel R 159 
 
 Camp, Stephen H 1 1 
 
 Canticles 123 
 
 Carlyle, Thomas . . . 32, 83, 127, 167 
 
 Gary, Alice 68 
 
 Chadwick, John W 102, 184, 203 
 
 Channing, William Ellery 33, 92, 101, 160 
 
 Channing, William Henry 129 
 
 Chapin, Edwin H 38 
 
 Clarke, James Freeman 168, 169, 178 
 
 Cobbe, Frances Power 33 
 
 Collyer, Robert 17, 1 8, 42, 123, 184 
 
 Coolidge, Susan 163, 202 
 
 Craik, Dinah Muloch 185 
 
 Crewdson, Jane Fox 216 
 
 Crum, Amos 151 
 
 Digby, Kenelm Henry 160 
 
 D., M. L 108 
 
 Ecclesiasticus 228 
 
 Eliot, George 32, 33, 55, 193 
 
 Elliott, Charlotte 163 
 
 Emerson, Ralph Waldo ... 21, 39, 119, 196, 199, 213 
 
 Faber, Frederick William 225 
 
 Frothingham, Octavius Brooks 63 
 
 Fuller, Margaret 172 
 
 Furness, William H 155 
 
 Gannett, Ezra Stiles 190 
 
 Gannett, William C 73, 97, 210 
 
INDEX OF AUTHORS. 233 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Gaskell, William 177 
 
 Greg, William R 34 
 
 Guyon, Madame . 152 
 
 Hale, Edward Everett 87 
 
 Hedge, Frederic Henry 191 
 
 Hemans, Felicia D 115 
 
 Hinton, James 18 
 
 Holland, J. G 29 
 
 Hosmer, Frederick L 24, 71, 98, 192, 202, 226 
 
 How, William Walsham 118 
 
 Hugo, Victor 213 
 
 Ingelow, Jean 37, 129, 158 
 
 Jackson, Helen Hunt 102, 157 
 
 Johnson, Samuel 77, 78, 175 
 
 Jones, Jenkin Lloyd 35 
 
 Kemble, Frances Anne 76 
 
 King, Harriet Eleanor Hamilton 50 
 
 King, Thomas Starr 199 
 
 Larcom, Lucy 31, 171 
 
 Livermore, Abiel A 24 
 
 Longfellow, Henry Wads worth 68, 128, 136 
 
 Longfellow, Samuel 200, 201, 217 
 
 Lowell, James Russell . . . . 14, 26, 8 1, 99, 134, 169 
 Lowell, Maria White 106 
 
 Mac Donald, George 62, 148, 173, 194, 217 
 
 Manning, Henry Edward 31 
 
 Marean, Emma E 207 
 
 Martineau, James . Ij, 32, 167, 198, 199 
 
 Matson, William Tidd . 179 
 
234 INDEX OF AUTHORS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Merriam, George S 12,27,84 
 
 Milton, John 34 
 
 Monsell, J. S. B 177 
 
 Morehouse, Daniel W 160 
 
 Morris, Edwin 150 
 
 Mountford, William 89 
 
 Mozoomdar, Protap Chunder 213 
 
 Monger, Theodore T 84, 85 
 
 Neale, John Mason 117 
 
 Newman, John Henry 40 
 
 Parker, Theodore 13, 144, 184 
 
 Peabody, Andrew P. . . 125, 126, 138, 139 
 
 Ferris, Henry Woods 39, 88 
 
 Perry, Nora 119 
 
 Putnam, Alfred P 112 
 
 Ruskin, John 185 
 
 Salis, Johann Gaudenz von 68 
 
 Savage, Minot J 219 
 
 Sears, Edmund H 124 
 
 Schmolke, Benjamin 163 
 
 Scudder, Eliza 176 
 
 Shipton, Anna 158 
 
 Sill, Edward Rowland 205 
 
 Smith, Lucy 75, 197 
 
 Spencer, Carl 67 
 
 Staples, Nahor Augustus 17, 184 
 
 Stowe, Harriet Beecher 175 
 
 Sutton, Henry Septimus 30,211 
 
 Sutton, Silas W 82, 83, 195 
 
INDEX OF AUTHORS. 235 
 
 PAGB 
 
 Tennyson, Alfred 30,96,186 
 
 Thomas, H. W 61 
 
 Thorn, John Hamilton 21,45 
 
 Thomson, James 195 
 
 Trench, Richard Chenevix 178 
 
 Utter, David N 89 
 
 Vere, Aubrey de 15 
 
 Ware, John F. W 55, 183 
 
 Waring, Anna L 183, 215 
 
 Weiss, John 84 
 
 Wendte, Charles W 13,72 
 
 Whitney, Mrs. A. D. T. . . . 16, 92, 101, 128, 161, 193 
 Whittier, John Greenleaf . . 88, no, 150,152, 158, 162, 
 
 189, 212 
 
 Willard, Emma Hart 91 
 
 Williams, Theodore C 130 
 
 Winter, William 66 
 
 Wisdom 145 
 
 Wood, Everett 29 
 
 Wordsworth, William 89,116,186 
 
INDEX OF SUBJECTS. 
 
 * tam bed r-v; .-..-: , .V ;. -:< 
 
 ABIMXG IN GOP .... 77, 78, rifr, 173-183, 190, 191, 
 
 ..v-.v*. .- 5 
 
 A Birthday Prayer 2i4 
 
 Abraham 93 
 
 * Absence 76 
 
 Against the Sky . 178 
 
 *tA Message from the Dead 93 
 
 Anne du Bourg 93 
 
 *A Requiem 99 
 
 Aspiration 55. 162-164, 167-150, 216-519 
 
 Athanasta 90 
 
 *A Year in Heaven ioS 
 
 Before the Dawn a<^ 
 
 Behind and Before 24 
 
 Broote, Charlotte iS 
 
 Channing, W. H 63 
 
 Character its Growth and Victories . . 11-57. 143-155, 
 
 156, 109, 309-313, 2tt 
 
238 INDEX OF SUBJECTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Cheerfulness 158, 184 
 
 Come to me, Thoughts of Heaven 115* 
 
 Common Duties 29 
 
 Communion with God 12, 14, 17, 26,41,45-50 
 
 Contentment 23, 33, 38, t 168, 210 
 
 Death of Children 73, 77, 101-107, T 34 
 
 Death's Ministry 61-78, 210, 212 
 
 Death-sorrow Transmuted into Peace 73, 97 
 
 Disease, as a Sign of the Coming of Keener Life . . 62 
 
 Eternal Goodness . . . 77,78,86,89,110-112,143-152, 
 
 157, 190-194, 216-229 
 
 Eternal Life 81-89 
 
 Experience 46-48 
 
 Footsteps of Angels 136 
 
 From Andrew Rykman's Prayer 162 
 
 " A Vision of Poets 217 
 
 " Commemoration Ode 81 
 
 " Divided 129 
 
 " Love and Law 223 
 
 " t Ode on Intimations of Immortality . . . . 116 
 
 " Only a Curl 104 
 
 " Saul 227 
 
 " Terminus 213 
 
 <" The Choir Invisible 55 
 
 " The Eternal Goodness no 
 
 " The Flood of Years in 
 
 " The Grave by the Lake .' ... 150 
 
 " The Meeting 189 
 
 " The Monitions of the Unseen . . . . 137,158 
 
 " The Over Soul 196 
 
INDEX OF SUBJECTS. 239 
 
 PAGE 
 
 From The Sermon in the Hospital 50 
 
 " The Two Voices 186 
 
 " t Thy Will be Done 158 
 
 God Lends not, but Gives 104 
 
 God's Angels and Teachers 12-15,211 
 
 God Transcendent . . . .89, 194-196, 217, 225, 227, 228 
 
 t " Good-Night ! not Good-By " 69 
 
 Green Pastures and Still Waters 97 
 
 Happiness and Blessedness 32 
 
 Hard Conditions 17, 167 
 
 He and She 131 
 
 Heaven 33, 169 
 
 He Leadeth Me 206 
 
 t How Beautiful it is to be Alive ! 211 
 
 Immortality 81-119,143-148 
 
 In Sickness 36, 173 
 
 In Sleep 71 
 
 Jesus . .15, 21, 31, 40-45, 48-54, 84-87, 125, 126, 139, 220 
 Job 18 
 
 Life's Victories n~57 
 
 Lifted Over 102 
 
 Longing 88 
 
 Love of God and Man 48 
 
 Love that Surrenders 72 
 
 Melodies on Darkened Ways 20, 73 
 
 Morality 188 
 
 My Dead 98 
 
24O INDEX OF SUBJECTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 My Mother's Hymn 214 
 
 *My Psalm 212 
 
 My soul is full of whispered song 68 
 
 Needed Blessings . . 172 
 
 No seas again shall sever 112 
 
 Oh, for the peace that floweth as a river 114 
 
 On his Blindness 34 
 
 Our God a Consuming Fire 148 
 
 Palm Sunday 42 
 
 Paul 24 
 
 Peace 33-37,113-115,156,229 
 
 Prayer .... 40-50, 178, 190, 204, 206, 220-224, 228 
 Psalm XXIII 219 
 
 Reunion of Friends . . .88,98,100,101,109-112,119,151 
 
 Riper Judgments . . , n, 21 
 
 *Rocked in the cradle of the deep 91 
 
 *Sadness and Gladness 102 
 
 Service 17,20,37,49-56,74,75,78,209,229 
 
 Sometime, Somewhere 222 
 
 Song of the Silent Land 68 
 
 Sorrow and Hope 197 
 
 Spikenard 16 
 
 Suffering and Trust 213 
 
 Sympathy 55, 78 
 
 The Alpine Sheep 106 
 
 The Angel of Death 63-68 
 
 The Battle of God 30 
 
INDEX OF SUBJECTS. 24! 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Beggar 169 
 
 The Blessed Life 179 
 
 The Changeling 134 
 
 The Deserted House 96 
 
 The Dying Scotch Woman 92 
 
 The Family on Earth and in Heaven .... 123-140 
 
 The Father's Will 18, 42. 155-164, 212 
 
 The Gathering Place 109 
 
 *The Hills of the Lord 210 
 
 The Ministry of Suffering "-57. 209-211 
 
 The Perfect Trust .... 91, 92, 93, 101-112, 117, 119, 
 143-152, 158-164, 173, 183-229 
 
 The Sainted Dead 117,118 
 
 The Silent Hours 130 
 
 The Spiritual Body 112 
 
 The Thought of God 226 
 
 Unseen Realities 61, 88, 89 
 
 Wait on the Lord 220 
 
 Wiegenlied 205 
 
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