{"1": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3803", "width": "2462", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0001.jp2"}, "2": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0002.jp2"}, "3": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0003.jp2"}, "4": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0004.jp2"}, "5": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0005.jp2"}, "6": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0006.jp2"}, "7": {"fulltext": "POETRY AND\\nMORALS v\u00c2\u00bb v\u00c2\u00bb\\nSUGGESTIVE AND ILLUSTRATIVE\\nANECDOTES AND POETICAL\\nQUOTATIONS FOR THE\\nUSE OF PREACHERS\\nr\\nBy\\nRev. Louis Albert Banks, D.D.\\nPastor First Methodist- Episcopal Church\\nCleveland, Ohio\\nFUNK WAGNALLS COMPANY\\nNEW YORK AND LONDON\\nMDCCCC", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0007.jp2"}, "8": {"fulltext": "75597\\nTwo Copies Received\\nNOV 14 1900\\nsecond copy\\nDelivered to\\nORDER OIViSION\\nNOV 19 I90U\\nCopyright, 1900, by\\nFunk Wagnalls Company\\n[Printed in the United States of America]", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0008.jp2"}, "9": {"fulltext": "AUTHOR S PREFACE.\\nIllustrations are the feathers to the preacher s\\narrow. They are windows that let the sunlight into\\nwhat otherwise to many hearers would be gloomy\\ndiscussions. They serve as appetizers to people with\\na delicate appetite for spiritual things. The element\\nof entertainment must not be left out of consideration\\nin public speech of any kind. While the purpose to\\nbe simply an entertainer would be a low one for a\\npreacher of the Gospel, still his preaching will have\\nbut little effect for good unless it is entertaining.\\nThe most striking figure used in the New Testament\\nto describe the preacher s work is that of a fisher-\\nman. Now a fisherman has to deal with creatures\\nthat are not anxious to be caught. Their attention\\nmust be attracted and the bait used must appeal to\\nthem strongly in order to accomplish his purpose.\\nSo in the work of the fisherman in the spiritual realm.\\nThe sinner is not anxious to be saved his evil habits\\nand the sinfulness of his heart work together to make\\nhim wary of the preacher and his message. If he is\\nto be caught for Christ, he must be entertained, his\\nattention must be attracted, and the sermon must be\\nilluminated.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0009.jp2"}, "10": {"fulltext": "vi\\nAUTHOR S PREFACE.\\nI have sought in this book, not only to give a large\\nnumber of fresh illustrations from current life, but\\nalso to point the moral for several hundred poetical\\nquotations. I am satisfied that there are great possi-\\nbilities in poetical illustrations. Many preachers use\\nthem far too rarely. Neither in my own preach-\\ning nor in my observation of other preachers have I\\never seen an apt poetical quotation used in a sermon\\nwithout the immediate effect being to quicken the in-\\nterest of every hearer. The large sale of Anecdotes\\nand Morals has encouraged me to believe that my\\nwork in this direction is generously appreciated by\\nmy brethren in the ministry, and I hope that the\\npresent volume will be still more valuable to them.\\nLouis Albert Bauks.\\nCleveland, October 16, 1900.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0010.jp2"}, "11": {"fulltext": "POETRY AND MORALS*\\nTHE MANNERS OF THE SKY.\\nEmerson has given us a beautiful picture of the\\nhumanness of heaven, of the tenderness of God, and\\nof the glad good cheer and hope of immortality, in\\nthese beautiful lines taken from his poem entitled\\nThrenody\\nEevere the Maker fetch thine eye\\nUp to his style, and manners of the sky.\\nNot of adamant and gold\\nBuilt he heaven stark and cold\\nNo, hut a nest of bending reeds,\\nFlowering grass and scented weeds\\nOr like a traveler s fleeing tent,\\nOr bow above the tempest bent\\nBuilt of tears and sacred flames,\\nAnd virtue reaching to its aims\\nBuilt of furtherance and pursuing,\\nNot of spent deeds, but of doing.\\nSilent rushes the swift Lord\\nThrough ruined systems still restored,\\nBroad-sowing, bleak and void to bless,\\nPlants with worlds the wilderness\\nWaters with tears of ancient sorrow\\nApples of Eden ripe to-morrow.\\nHouse and tenant go to ground,\\nLost in God, in Godhead found.\\n1", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0011.jp2"}, "12": {"fulltext": "2\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nTHE ELIXIR OF LIFE.\\nThere is something pathetic in the ceaseless strug-\\ngle of mankind to overcome disease and perpetuate\\nhuman life a little longer on the earth. One serum\\nand elixir follows another among the inventions of\\nthe scientists. Through the ages man has endeavored\\nto get past the flaming sword set to guard the tree of\\nlife. Man has never given up the search for the\\nfountain of youth, and the search was never more\\npersistent than at the present time. The science of\\nmedicine has grown out of this instinct of self-preser-\\nvation, and on it have been grafted superstitions and\\nstrange methods of treatment for the purpose of\\npostponing if not defeating death. From many thou-\\nsand years ago we get fragments of writing by Hermes\\nTrismegistus, who is involved in Egyptian mythology\\nand legend, teaching that there are certain remedies\\nfor disease that have a tendency to prolong life, with\\nthe possibility of insuring earthly immortality. The\\nGreek historian Zosimus, in his writings, referred to\\ndrugs that would prevent the decay of the principle\\nof life but he died in the middle of the fifth century\\nbefore Christ, when fifty years old. Then we have\\nthe Persian physician Khazes, who delved deep into\\nthe mysteries of medicine and announced that he had\\nfound an elixir but he died in his fifty- third year.\\nRoger Bacon early in the thirteenth century discov-\\nered a serum which he believed held the life energies\\nof the human body; but he died. Then came Al-\\nfonso, the wise, who hoped to discover the elixir", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0012.jp2"}, "13": {"fulltext": "THE RELIGION OF HOPE.\\n3\\nof life but he, too, died at the age of sixty-three.\\nPonce de Leon, the picturesque searcher for the\\nspring of immortal youth, found death but not life.\\nAnd so Pasteur is dead, and Koch will die. And\\nhow short human life seems after all these, compared\\neven to that simple record of Methuselah in the Book\\nof Genesis which says in sublime simplicity, And\\nall the days of Methuselah were nine hundred sixty\\nand nine years but the record closes with the fatal\\nwords, and he died. This instinct of life which\\nis in us all can be satisfied only with inn -mortality.\\nChristianity with its divine promise of immortal life\\nin heaven can alone satisfy the longings of the human\\nheart. Christ said I am come that ye might have\\nlife, and that ye might have it more abundantly.\\nTHE RELIGION OF HOPE.\\nChristianity is above all others the religion of hope.\\nChrist arouses in the most despairing the hope of re-\\ndemption, promising a new chance and better oppor-\\ntunity to the sinner. Tennyson brings this ray of\\nChristian hope into the sad life of Queen Guinevere.\\nIt was too late for her to avert the sorrow and misery\\nwrought by her sin, so far as this world was con-\\ncerned, but heaven had its ray of hope for her.\\nWhat pathos in the words Tennyson lets fall from\\nher lips\\nI think there was a hope,\\nExcept he mock d when he spake of hope\\nHis hope he call d it but he never mocks,\\nTor mockery is the fume of little hearts.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0013.jp2"}, "14": {"fulltext": "4\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nAnd blessed be the king, who hath forgiven\\nMy wickedness to him, and left me hope\\nThat in mine own heart I can live down sin\\nAnd be his mate hereafter in the heavens\\nBefore high God.\\nA GOOD NAME.\\nAn honored man has recently retired from the\\nbench of the supreme court in the State of New York,\\nafter continuous service as a judge of the supreme\\ncourt for thirty-six years. He had passed the age\\nlimit seven years, but so highly were his services ap-\\npreciated that the State legislature passed a law giv-\\ning the governor authority to continue his assignment.\\nIt is estimated that he has tried more than one hun-\\ndred thousand issues of law and fact. So universally\\nwas he regarded to be an upright and wise judge that\\nsince his first candidacy he has been the candidate of\\nall parties. What a precious reputation has this man\\nwon for himself It is a striking illustration of the\\ntruth of Solomon s proverb which says: A good\\nname is rather to be chosen than great riches, and\\nloving favor rather than silver and gold.\\nNATURE S RESTFULNESS.\\nThat sense of restfulness which comes to a tired\\nmind or a weary heart through the reliability of nature\\nis described by no one more beautifully than by the\\npoet Keats. In Endymion he has written\\nA thing of beauty is a joy forever\\nSuch the sun, the moon,", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0014.jp2"}, "15": {"fulltext": "CHARACTER THAT COUNTS. 5\\nTrees old and young, sprouting a shady boon\\nFor simple sheep and such are daffodils\\nWith the green world they live in and clear rills\\nThat for themselves a cooling covert make\\nGainst the hot season the mid-forest brake,\\nRich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms.\\nAnd again lie says what many of ns have often felt\\nThe trees\\nThat whisper round a temple become soon\\nDear as the temple s self.\\nCHARACTER THAT COUNTS.\\nA jeweler in a Western town recently fonnd a pre-\\ncious treasure in a peculiar place. His home coffee-\\nmill was broken and he took it apart to find what was\\nthe trouble. He discovered that it had been wrecked\\nby the action of a stone of some sort that had even\\ncut its way into the metal of the grinders. He took\\nthe stone to his jewelry store and, putting it under a\\nmicroscope, discovered that it was a large diamond of\\nthe blue tint variety and worth about two hundred\\ndollars. It is thought that the diamond was mixed\\nwith the coffee when the grain was screened in South\\nAfrica, where the coffee was raised. The diamond\\nwas about the size of a coffee-grain and had the same\\ndull color. What a striking illustration of the value\\nof reality over sham and pretense The diamond was\\nplain and unpretentious but being a diamond, where-\\never it was found, no matter how humble the circum-\\nstances or associations, it was a precious treasure. So\\ntrue character will ever come to its own in the end.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0015.jp2"}, "16": {"fulltext": "6 POETRY AND MORALS.\\nIt may be neglected and forgotten for a while, but\\ngenuine manhood and womanhood, however humble\\ntheir associations, will make themselves felt, and God\\nwill honor them in his own good time.\\nTHE LIMITATIONS OF WEALTH.\\nThomas Moore has set forth with graphic clearness\\nthe limitations of wealth in the power to buy immu-\\nnity from the approach of the pale horse and his\\nrider. Death is no respecter of persons and comes to\\nthe palace as well as the hovel. Moore s lines are\\ntrue indeed\\nIf hoarded gold possessed the power\\nTo lengthen life s too fleeting hour,\\nAnd purchase from the hand of death\\nA little span, a moment s breath,\\nHow I would love the precious ore\\nAnd every hour should swell my store\\nThat when Death came with shadowy pinion,\\nTo waft me to his bleak dominion,\\nI might by bribes my doom delay,\\nAnd bid him call some distant day.\\nTHE STRUGGLE OF LIFE.\\nMany people grow weary in the struggle to over-\\ncome imperfect conditions, and are ready to cry out\\nagainst the ceaseless efforts which progress requires.\\nAnd yet struggle is the law of life, and it is not well\\nfor us to give way to that sort of hopeless yearning\\nexpressed in the lines of William Morris", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0016.jp2"}, "17": {"fulltext": "SEEING OURSELVES AS OTHERS SEE US. 7\\nAh good and ill,\\nWhen will your strife the fated measure fill?\\nWhen will the tangled veil be drawn away\\nTo show us all that un imagined day?\\nSEEING OURSELVES AS OTHERS SEE US.\\nA drunkard in New Orleans was recently saved in\\na peculiar manner from continuing his career of dis-\\nsipation. The young man in question was of a fine\\nfamily and had splendid gifts, but was going down\\nthrough strong drink as fast as it was possible for a\\nman to go. His friends had pleaded with him, but\\nhe had taken their warnings as an insult. One day\\none of them, who was a court stenographer, deter-\\nmined to try a new tack with him. He was sitting\\nin a restaurant, when the young man in question\\ncame in with a companion, and took the table next to\\nhim, sitting down with his back to him, and not see-\\ning him. He was just enough intoxicated to be talk-\\native about his private affairs, and on the impulse of\\nthe moment the stenographer pulled out his note-book\\nand took a full shorthand report of every word he\\nsaid. It was the usual maudlin folly of a young man\\nwith his brain muddled by drink, and included a num-\\nber of highly candid details of his daily life things\\nwhich, when sober, he would no sooner have spoken\\nof to a casual acquaintance than he would have put\\nhis hand in the fire. The next morning the stenog-\\nrapher copied the whole thing neatly and sent it to\\nthe young man s office. In less than ten minutes he\\ncame tearing in, his eyes fairly hanging out of their", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0017.jp2"}, "18": {"fulltext": "s\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nsockets. G-reat heavens, Charley he gasped,\\nwhat is this, anyhow? It s a stenographic re-\\nport of your monolog at the restaurant last evening,\\nhis friend replied, and gave him a brief explanation.\\nDid I really talk like that he asked faintly. I\\nassure you it is an absolutely verbatim report, was\\nthe reply. He turned pale and walked out. He\\nnever drank another drop. There are many men who\\nwould cease not only the sin of drunkenness, but\\nother sins as well, if they could see themselves as\\nother people see them.\\nAT THE END OF HIS ROPE.\\nThere is an Oriental legend in regard to the prodi-\\ngal son which teaches that the father had forgiven\\nthe prodigal time and again. Finally the old man\\ndespaired of his child. He felt that nothing could\\nredeem so wayward a son, and expressed that convic-\\ntion to him. He predicted that the prodigal, in his\\nheadlong course from, bad to worse, would ultimately\\narrive at the goal of self-destruction. But when\\nthat evil day arrives, urged the old man, you must\\nhang yourself in this room where we now sit. Here\\nis the rope. I will be dead and gone long before, but\\npromise me you will fulfil my last wish and make\\naway with yourself as I direct. To this the prodi-\\ngal consented, and not long afterward the aged parent\\nwas gathered to his fathers. In due time the prodi-\\ngal reached, in a painfully literal sense, the end of\\nhis rope. Making his way to the fatal apartment, he", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0018.jp2"}, "19": {"fulltext": "THE MUSIC OF DEATH.\\n9\\nadjusted the noose, commended himself to Provi-\\ndence, and swung himself into the air, when down\\nfell a trap in the ceiling and a shower of gold rained\\nupon him as he arose from the floor with the end of\\nthe rope in his hands. The promise of God to lost\\nsinners is better than that, for the prodigal thus\\ndowered again with gold would still have the same\\nvicious character which had led him to hang himself\\nin despair. But to the prodigal who really comes\\nback to God in repentance there is given a new heart\\nand a new character, which enriches him with a gold\\nfar beyond earthly treasure in its power to bless.\\nLOVE RENEWING YOUTH.\\nThe power of love to keep the heart young and to\\nrenew the youth of the soul is set forth in these\\nsplendid lines of Emerson in The World- Soul\\nSpring still makes spring in the mind\\nWhen sixty years are told\\nLove wakes anew this throbbing heart,\\nAnd we are never old.\\nOver the winter glaciers\\nI see the summer glow,\\nAnd through the wind-piled snowdrift\\nThe warm rosebud below.\\nTHE MUSIC OF DEATH.\\nIn Paraguay there is found occasionally a musical\\ninstrument called the skull-banjo. The manufacture\\nhas a peculiar history. The Indians of ancient times", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0019.jp2"}, "20": {"fulltext": "10\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nwere constantly engaged in warfare, and their primary-\\naim when thus engaged was to capture the chief of\\nthe opposing side. When captured, this personage\\nwas carried to their camp, and there cruelly murdered,\\nand it was from his body that this gruesome, curious\\nmusical instrument was made. After the skull was\\nthoroughly dried the top was cut entirely off. Over\\nthe opening thus made a piece of skin, taken from\\nthe body, was tightly stretched in the manner of a\\ndrum. In the back of the skull the two long bones\\nfrom the limbs were inserted. The ends of these\\nbones were joined together by one of the ribs from\\nthe body. Then throughout the length of these bones\\nstrings made from the skin of the body were tightly\\nstretched. The instrument was then played like a\\nmandolin or a banjo. The skull was left so that the\\njaws were movable. Therefore with each shake of\\nthe instrument the jaws wagged, and with any sharp\\njolt the teeth came together with a snap. One of\\nthese horrid instruments was sold the other day in\\nLondon and brought a large price as a curiosity.\\nThis repulsive musical instrument suggests, however,\\nthe degradation which music is often used to cover\\nup. The foulest brothels of the city, as well as the\\ngilded palatial liquor-saloons, seek to fascinate their\\npatrons with music. In the gilded palace as well as\\nin the low dance-hall the grinning skull is beneath\\nthe music and the dance. Sin may put on a fascina-\\nting exterior, but the skull is in the closet, and the\\nBible is true when it says: The wages of sin is\\ndeath.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0020.jp2"}, "21": {"fulltext": "THE ANNOYANCES OF WEALTH. 11\\nREMEMBERED MUSIC.\\nThomas Mobre calls attention to the power of a\\nstrain of music, heard again after years have passed,\\nto awaken the deep founts of pathos in the soul\\nWhen through life unblest we rove,\\nLosing all that made life dear,\\nShould some notes we used to love,\\nIn days of boyhood, meet our ear,\\nOh, how welcome breathes the strain\\nWakening thoughts that long have slept\\nKindling for her smiles again\\nIn faded eyes that long have wept.\\nLike the gale, that sighs along\\nBeds of Oriental flowers,\\nIs the grateful breath of song,\\nThat once was heard in happier hours\\nFilled with balm, the gale sighs on,\\nTho the flowers have sunk in death\\nSo, when pleasure s dream is gone,\\nIts memory lives in Music s breath.\\nTHE ANNOYANCES OF WEALTH,\\nThe great truth that the law of compensation comes\\nin to add responsibility and peril to the reception of\\nany blessing, was humorously illustrated not long\\nago in what in itself is a pathetic story told of the\\nQueen of Italy and a poor child. Queen Margharita\\nwas one day walking in a Roman suburb when she\\nnoticed a pleasant-faced little girl and spoke to her.\\nThere was a little conversation, and the Queen asked\\nthe child what she could do in the way of needle-", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0021.jp2"}, "22": {"fulltext": "12\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nwork. I can knit stockings, signora, replied the\\ngirl. Do you know who I am? continued the\\nQueen. Yes, signora, you are the Queen. Well,\\nthen, make a pair of stockings and send them to the\\npalace. A few days afterward the stockings ar-\\nrived, and Queen Margharita in return for the gift\\nsent the child a beautiful pair of rose-colored stock-\\nings, one filled with sweets and the other with money.\\nNext day the Queen received a letter from her little\\nfriend couched in the following words Signora,\\nyour gift has caused me no end of tears. My father\\ncollared the money, my brother grabbed the sweets,\\nand as for the stockings, why, mother put them on\\nherself. The apostle knew what he was talking\\nabout when he said that riches brought with them\\ndivers temptations and difficulties.\\nREUNION WITH LOVED ONES.\\nIn his poem Prospice, Browning wrote his own\\nhope and faith that he should meet again in everlast-\\ning reunion his dearly loved wife, whom he had lost\\na while. The brave words ought to comfort every\\nChristian heart thus bereaved\\nI would hate that death bandaged my eyes, and forebore,\\nAnd bade me creep past.\\nNo Let me taste the whole of it, fare like my peers\\nThe heroes of old,\\nBear the brant, in a minute pay glad life s arrears\\nOf pain, darkness, and cold.\\nFor sudden the worst turns the best to the brave,\\nThe black minute s at end,", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0022.jp2"}, "23": {"fulltext": "MAKE RELIGION ATTRACTIVE. 13\\nAnd the elements rage, the fiend voices that rave,\\nShall dwindle, shall blend,\\nShall change, shall become first a piece out of pain,\\nThen a light, then thy breast,\\nO thou soul of my soul I shall clasp thee again,\\nAnd with God be the rest\\nMAKE RELIGION ATTRACTIVE*\\nIt is said that when General Wood was undertaking\\nto establish good government at Santiago, one of his\\ngreatest difficulties was to get wealthy and well-edu-\\ncated natives to take official positions. They sulked\\nand hung back because they thought too many posi-\\ntions had been given to Spaniards. In a small town\\nnear Santiago General Wood was anxious to secure a\\ngood Cuban mayor, but he was warned that every de-\\nsirable man would decline it. One day the principal\\nstorekeeper of the town came to see General Wood\\nabout a small contract for fodder. He was a typical\\nnative of his class, fat, garrulous, and conceited, and\\nit was evident that he was the chief gossip of his\\nneighborhood. After concluding the business matter\\nthe general pretended to consult a letter. By the\\nway, senor, he said, you are an old resident of this\\ncountry, and I would like you to give me a little ad-\\nvice. I am at your Excellency s service, said the\\nlittle storekeeper, swelling with pride. Is it true,\\nthen, as is stated to me, continued the general, that\\nthe Cuban gentlemen are very poorly educated, and\\nfear to accept civil offices lest they appear to disad-\\nvantage compared with Spanish employees No,", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0023.jp2"}, "24": {"fulltext": "14\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nyour Excellency roared the Cuban indignantly,\\nthat s all Spanish lies! Some scoundrel Spaniard\\nwrites you that just for to make you prejudiced\\nThe little Cuban then poured out his wrath and pa-\\ntriotism for half an hour. Ah, well, said Wood\\nquietly, I merely wanted your opinion, and am sure\\nI am very much obliged. You ll consider this con-\\nversation private, of course. Certainly, said the\\nstorekeeper, and as the general anticipated he hurried\\nhome and told it to everybody in town. A few days\\nlater one of the leading Cuban citizens was appointed\\nmayor, and at once accepted. He administered the\\noffice with great success. There is a suggestion in\\nthis, not only for preachers, but for all Christian\\nworkers who seek to attract others to the Christian\\nlife. Not only should we magnify that life by our\\nown conduct, but we should seek to hold it up before\\nthe world in the most attractive and desirable way.\\nAUTUMN PICTURES.\\nTo my mind no poet has sung so perfectly of\\nautumn, and given us at once so beautiful, so sugges-\\ntive, and so sublime a picture of the evening of the\\nyear, as Keats in his ode, To Autumn\\nSeason of mists and mellow fruitfulness\\nClose bosom-friend of the maturing sun\\nConspiring with him how to load and bless\\nWith fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run\\nTo bend with apples the mossed cottage-trees,\\nAnd fill all fruit with ripeness to the core\\nTo swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0024.jp2"}, "25": {"fulltext": "A GREEDY SPIRIT.\\n15\\nWith, a sweet kernel to set budding more\\nAnd still more, later flowers for the bees,\\nUntil they think warm days will never cease,\\nFor Summer has o er-brimm d their clammy cells.\\nWho hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?\\nSometimes whoever seeks abroad may find\\nThee sitting careless on a granary floor,\\nThy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind\\nOr on a half-reaped furrow sound asleep,\\nDrowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook\\nSpares the next swath and all its twined flowers\\nAnd sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep\\nSteady thy laden head across a brook\\nOr by a cider-press, with patient look,\\nThou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.\\nWhere are the songs of Spring? Aye, where are they?\\nThink not of them, thou hast thy music too,\\nWhile barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,\\nAnd touch the stubble plains with rosy hue\\nThen in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn\\nAmong the river sallows, borne aloft\\nOr sinking as the light wind lives or dies\\nAnd full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn\\nHedge crickets sing and now with treble soft\\nThe redbreast whistles from a garden croft,\\nAnd gathering swallows twitter in the skies.\\nA GREEDY SPIRIT,\\nA novel petition was recently submitted to the\\nFrench Chamber of Deputies by a woman resident in\\nthe Finistere Department. She proposes that steps\\nbe taken to test the quality of sow s milk as a form\\nof nourishment for babes. Donkey s milk, as is well", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0025.jp2"}, "26": {"fulltext": "16\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nknown, is superior to cow s for the purpose, but the\\nemployment of that of the domestic pig has the merit\\nof novelty. Several doctors have already pronounced\\nin favor of the innovation. It would be a sad thing\\nto do this if there were any danger of children ab-\\nsorbing in that way in any greater degree the hoggish\\nspirit. No one can study human life without per-\\nceiving everywhere a dominant spirit of greed, which\\nis illustrated by no animal so perfectly as by the hog.\\nThe spirit of Christ is at war with this spirit of greed.\\nA man maybe sure that it is not Christ s spirit which\\nis possessing him unless he is becoming less greedy\\nand more brotherly.\\nLAW AND FREEDOM.\\nG-oethe, in his sonnet Nature and Art, puts in\\na strong light the great fact that true freedom can\\nonly come through law, and that discipline and self-\\ncontrol are always necessary for the development and\\nexercise of great power\\nNature and art seem ofttimes to be foes,\\nBut, ere we know it, join in making peace\\nMy own repugnance, too, has come to cease,\\nAnd each an equal power attractive shows.\\nLet us but make an end to dull repose\\nWhen art we serve in toil without release,\\nThrough stated hours, absolved from vain caprice,\\nNature once more within us freely glows.\\nAll culture, as I hold, must take this course\\nUnbridled spirits ever strive in vain\\nPerfection s radiant summit to attain.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0026.jp2"}, "27": {"fulltext": "NOURISHING SWEETS.\\n17\\nWho seeks great ends must straitly curb his force\\nIn narrow bound the master s skill shall show,\\nAnd only law true freedom can bestow.\\nTHE ROCK OF AGES.\\nThe largest block of granite ever quarried in the\\nworld was lately blown from the quarry in Red\\nStone, 1ST. H. It is forty-five feet long, thirty-five\\nfeet wide, and twenty-eight feet thick. The blast\\ntook three hundred pounds of powder, and the concus-\\nsion shook the entire village. The cleavage was abso-\\nlutely perfect, and the great stone split like a block\\nof wood. But there is a stone no blast of earth s\\npowder can ever rend asunder. It is the Eock of\\nAges that David sings about when he says, For in\\nthe time of trouble he shall hide me in his pavilion\\nin the secret of his tabernacle shall he hide me he\\nshall set me up upon a rock.\\nNOURISHING SWEETS.\\nOn a great sugar-plantation in Texas, where several\\nhundred mules are employed, a new food for them\\nhas been introduced during the last few years. This\\nfood is pure, black molasses, and the animals are fed\\nnothing else throughout the year. Large troughs\\nhave been built in the stables, into which the molasses\\nis conducted by pipes direct from the refinery. The\\nmules have a great fondness for the molasses, and\\nare kept in prime condition all the time, tho the food\\nis much cheaper than corn or oats. It is interesting\\nto note that even mules thrive on sweets. Quick ob-\\n2", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0027.jp2"}, "28": {"fulltext": "18\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nservers have long known that men and women will\\ncarry heavier loads and keep in better condition on\\nkindness and sympathy than on any sort of nagging\\nor criticism that was ever invented. If you want to\\nget the best work out of any one, feed him well on\\nlove and good cheer.\\nPOSITIVE CHARACTER,\\nTennyson never wrote more truly than in that line-\\nHe makes no friend who never made a foe.\\nThe jellyfish nature, which fits in everywhere and has\\nno opinions or principles with backbone to stand up\\nand bear the cross or die on the cross, has not stamina\\nenough to conceive what real friendship means.\\nDUTY AND BLESSING.\\nLongfellow recalls The Legend Beautiful, with\\nits story of the old monastery, the monk in an agony\\nof prayer on its cold stone floor, the sudden vision of\\nthe Christ that came to him there, and how just in the\\nmidst of his joy at the heavenly sight the bell pealed\\nforth its message calling him to feed the poor beggars\\nat the convent-gate. If he did not go the poor would\\nsuffer; but to go meant to leave the vision he had\\nbeen longing for all his life. Says the poet:\\nThen a voice within his breast\\nWhispered, audible and clear,\\nAs if to the outward ear\\nDo thy duty that is best;\\nLeave unto thy Lord the rest 19", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0028.jp2"}, "29": {"fulltext": "WORTH SAVING.\\n19\\nThe monk heeded it as the message of God, and went\\naway to his task of service and when he came back,\\nto his great delight, his Lord was still there, and with\\nsmiling lips he said,\\nHadst thou stayed, I must have fled.\\nBlessing always comes through duty, and the heav-\\nenly vision can never be kept through self-indulgence.\\nWORTH SAVING.\\nNot very long ago a mass of wet green paper, which\\nwas nearly pulp, was sent to the United States Treas-\\nury, with a statement properly verified that the gallon\\nand a half of greasy, bad-looking, and worse-smelling\\nstuff represented a large sum in the old compound-\\ninterest notes of 1864. The Treasury clerks dried\\nthe matter and then carefully separated it, and found\\nthat the owner s statement was correct. The money\\nwas part of the contents of a safe on board a Missis-\\nsippi steamer that was burned a few years ago, and\\nthe safe had been at the bottom of the river nearly\\na year before the unconsumed remnant of the boat\\nwas raised. There is something like that in human\\nlife. Many a poor battered man is, like that safe,\\nholding great value in divine qualities bearing the\\nimage of God, which are worth any sacrifice to re-\\ndeem and save. It is no matter how rusty and ugly\\nthe safe is, if there be only the priceless value within.\\nChristian workers need to be on their guard lest, in\\nthe repulsive appearance of the safe, they forget the\\nrich treasures it contains.\\nJ", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0029.jp2"}, "30": {"fulltext": "20\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nTHE HOMING PIGEON.\\nThomas Moore seizes on the habits of the homing\\npigeon, which flies high and swift and straight as a\\ndie toward its home after it has once decided on its\\ncourse, as an ideal for the Christian in his homeward\\nflight toward the skies\\nThe bird, let loose in Eastern skies,\\nWhen hastening fondly home,\\nNe er stoops to earth her wing, nor flies\\nWhere idle warblers roam,\\nBut high she shoots through air and light,\\nAbove all low delay,\\nWhere nothing earthly bounds her flight,\\nNor shadow dims her way.\\nSo grant me, God, from every care\\nAnd stain of passion free,\\nAloft, through Virtue s purer air,\\nTo hold my course to thee\\nNo sin to cloud, no lure to stay\\nMy soul, as home she springs\\nThy sunshine on her joyful way,\\nThy freedom in her wings\\nSPIRITUAL ATMOSPHERE.\\nVery clearly these lines of Emerson tell the im-\\nportance of atmosphere and surroundings. As he\\nsays, Nothing is fair or good alone. The same\\ndeed done by different people under different circum-\\nstances may seem the deed of a saint in the one case\\nand the act of a scoundrel in the other. The charm\\nof a good act is that it is the natural output of an hon-", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0030.jp2"}, "31": {"fulltext": "DEFENDERS OF A BAD CAUSE. 21\\nest heart at the right time and place. A deed that is\\nglorious with the charm of loving purpose prompting\\nand surrounding it may be very unattractive under\\nother circumstances. Emerson s song pictures it all\\nmore perfectly than any prose\\nI thought the sparrow s note from heaven,\\nSinging at dawn on the alder bough\\nI brought him home, in his nest, at even\\nHe sings the song, but it cheers not now,\\nFor I did not bring home the river and sky\\nHe sang to my ear, they sang to my eye.\\nThe delicate shells lay on the shore\\nThe bubbles of the latest wave\\nFresh pearls to their enamel gave,\\nAnd the bellowing of the savage sea\\nGreeted their safe escape to me.\\nI wiped away the weeds and foam,\\nI fetched my sea-born treasures home\\nBut the poor, unsightly, noisome things\\nHad left their beauty on the shore\\nWith the sun and the sand and the wild uproar.\\nTHE MEDLEY OF DEFENDERS OF A BAD\\nCAUSE,\\nIt is very interesting and suggestive to note what a\\ndiverse group of people will sometimes be gathered in\\ndefense of a bad cause. Shakespeare makes one of\\nhis characters say, Misery doth acquaint a man with\\nstrange bedfellows, and politics in defense of a bad\\ncause may at times illustrate the same fact. A gen-\\ntleman in Southern California went out to look for\\nsome of his stock that were in danger because of\\nwidespread forest fires. When he came upon them", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0031.jp2"}, "32": {"fulltext": "22\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nhe was astonished to find not only his cattle and\\nhorses, but a deer, three wildcats, a coyote, and sev-\\neral rabbits, all alive, and apparently in no fear of\\nhim. They watched his approach with indifference,\\nthe timidity gone from the big-eyed deer, fear taking\\nthe place of venom in the wildcat s purr, and a pro-\\nfessed honesty shining in the gray coyote s face. The\\nrabbits sat on their haunches, as meek as the pets of\\nchildren. The rancher drove the stock through the\\nsmoldering brush, the deer going along with the cat-\\ntle, the rabbits hopping along at the rancher s heels,\\nand the coyote and the wildcats keeping pace with\\nthe rest. But when the burning field was passed and\\nthe danger of immediate destruction no longer threat-\\nened, the deer broke into a run for the distant hills,\\nthe rabbits were away like a flash, and the old defi-\\nance and snarling leer came back to the wildcats,\\nwhile the coyote plainly showed that he was the same\\nold cowardly, slouching thief as of yore. How often\\nwe see that illustrated when, to save the domination\\nof some corrupt and wicked political machine in a\\ncity, saloon-keepers, and gamblers, and prize-fighters,\\nand thugs, and deacons, and elders, and even an oc-\\ncasional preacher, will flock together rather than see\\nthe corrupt machine go to pieces.\\nFIDELITY IN NEED.\\nA ship recently arrived at San Francisco which had\\nbeen two hundred and ninety-six days from New Cas-\\ntle, Australia. She had been in great peril in a storm", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0032.jp2"}, "33": {"fulltext": "HEAVEN S WORK.\\n23\\nat sea and had had long delays. One night when she\\nwas in great danger the captain asked the captain of\\nanother ship to stand by through the night, and he\\ndid so at great risk to his own vessel and life, but\\nfinally was the cause of salvation of the imperiled ves-\\nsel. As soon as he was safe in harbor the captain of\\nthe ship that had been threatened with wreck gave his\\nfirst attention to showing appreciation of the other\\ncaptain s assistance, and sent him a gold watch, and\\nwent before the council of the city of Sydney and told\\nthe story of his heroism. On learning of it the Syd-\\nney authorities presented to the noble captain a medal\\nbearing his name on one side, and on the other the\\nsimple inscription, The man that did stand by. In\\nthe midst of the campaign for righteousness that is\\ngoing on in our modern life, the noblest ambition for\\na Christian man is to share the fate of righteousness\\nto be no more popular than Jesus Christ would be, if\\nhe stood in His place, and sought as of old to make it\\neasy for men to do right and hard for them to do\\nwrong. Eather than anything else the Christian man\\nshould prize having Christ look down upon him and\\nsay The man that did stand by.\\nHEAVEN S WORK.\\nSurely none of us can believe that heaven will be\\nidleness, and all earnest human hearts must thrill\\nwith appreciation of Helen Hunt Jackson s poem,\\nHabeas Corpus, addressed to Death:\\nI grudge thee this right hand of mine\\nI grudge thee this quick-beating heart;", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0033.jp2"}, "34": {"fulltext": "24\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nThey never gave me coward sign,\\nNor played me once a traitor s part.\\nO feeble, mighty human hand\\nfragile, dauntless human heart\\nThe universe holds nothing planned\\nWith such sublime, transcendent art.\\nAh, well, friend Death, good friend thou art\\n1 shall be free when thou art through.\\nTake all there is take hand and heart\\nThere must be somewhere work to do.\\nTHE USELESSNESS OF SPITE.\\nOne of the curious things that appear every year in\\nthe columns of the London Times is this death notice\\nOn Friday, July 16, 1839, in her thirty-third year,\\nthe very deeply lamented Lady Flora Hastings, M.\\nJ. V. The Lady Flora in question was one of the\\nmost beautiful and charming of the maids of honor to\\nthe Queen, and had been in attendance on her Majesty\\nfor some time, when she suddenly found herself the\\nsubject of malevolent gossip which had its origin\\namong the ladies-in-waiting of the Queen, prominent\\namong the number being Lady Portman. The Queen,\\nwho was unmarried at the time, sided with her ladies\\nagainst the unfortunate girl. Inquiry fully vindicated\\nLady Flora, and she was reinstated in the Queen s\\nfavor. But when she demanded that her traducers be\\nexcluded from the court, the Queen refused to com-\\nply. Soon afterward Lady Flora became ill and died\\nand her relatives have never forgiven her Majesty for\\nrefusing her request. It was a sister of Lady Flora", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0034.jp2"}, "35": {"fulltext": "MEMORY S SUNKEN CITY.\\n25\\nwho was the mother of the late Marquis of Bute,\\nand inasmuch as he was brought up to the belief that\\nhis lovely aunt was ill-treatecl by her Majesty, he has\\nalways manifested a very marked degree of reserve\\ntoward the court, and it is generally believed that it\\nis by his orders that the obituary notice concerning\\nLady Flora s death appears each year in the London\\nTimes. How useless have been all these years of\\nspiteful advertising. And yet it is a striking illustra-\\ntion of the uselessness of spite -work always.\\nMEMORY S SUNKEN CITY.\\nWilhelm Miiller tells the popular legend of the\\nsunken city of Yineta, and how the fishermen some-\\ntimes imagine they catch glimpses of its glory, and\\nhear faintly the ringing of its bells, and applies it to\\nthat past which is sacred in every one of us, and\\nwhich memory so often brings back to us\\nFrom the sea s deep, deep recesses cometh\\nFaintest sound of distant evening bells,\\nBringing to our ears its wondrous tidings\\nOf a city far submerged it tells.\\nSunk beneath the ocean s heaving surface,\\nStand for evermore its ruins old\\nFrom its roofs and towers, deeply hidden,\\nShine again reflected rays of gold.\\nAnd the seaman who at ruddy evening\\nOnce hath felt its weird reflection s charm,\\nSaileth ever toward the self-same visiou,\\nTho steep cliffs be near to do him harm.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0035.jp2"}, "36": {"fulltext": "26\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nFrom my heart s deep, deep recesses cometh\\nFaintest sound, like distant evening bells.\\nAh, it bringeth to me wondrous tidings\\nOf the love once loved again it tells.\\nFor a world of beauty there lies hidden,\\nThere forever stands its ruins old\\nOnly in my dreams, that come at midnight,\\nShine again its heavenly rays of gold.\\nThen I fain would plunge beneath the surface,\\nAnd would sink in its reflected gold\\nAnd, at times, methinks an angel message\\nCalls me back into that city old.\\nMALICE AND FOLLY,\\nPeacocks and tigers are believed usually to live to-\\ngether. There is also a common jungle legend that\\nleopards and tigers fascinate peacocks. It may have\\noriginated in the fact that both leopards and peacocks\\nhave spots, and that there is some mysterious relation\\nbetween them. An African hunter relates that he\\nwas stalking a peacock on one occasion, when he was\\nsurprised to see how near it allowed him to approach.\\nThe bird paid no attention to him, but was gazing in-\\ntently, as if fascinated, at a little patch of jungle just\\nin front. Looking in the same direction, he saw a\\nleopard stealthily crawling toward the bird, which\\ncontinued to remain still in the same position. He\\nwas greatly surprised, for he had never even heard of\\nleopards in that neighborhood, but his astonishment\\nwas greater when, on his raising his gun, one barrel\\nof which was loaded with ball, and covering the ani-", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0036.jp2"}, "37": {"fulltext": "THE CALL OF GOD.\\n27\\nmal, the leopard threw up his paws, and shrieked in a\\nvoice hoarse with terror: No, sir, no, don t tire!\\nHe said that for a moment he thought he must be go-\\ning mad, and all the Indian tales of enchanted princes\\nand fairies, werwolves and the like, flashed through\\nhis recollection. The next moment he saw a man very\\ncleverly disguised in a leopard s skin, with a well-\\nstuffed head, and a bow and arrow in one paw stand-\\ning before him. The man so dressed was a profes-\\nsional fowler, who said that in that disguise he could\\nalways approach near enough to shoot peacocks with a\\nbow and arrow, and sometimes to catch them in his\\nhand. Malice and folly often breed in the same jun-\\ngle. The one is never very far away from the other.\\nThe love of display and the love of greed are usually\\nfound near each other. Often the one preys on the\\nother.\\nTHE CALL OF GOD.\\nIt is a great hour in any man s life when he hears\\nthe call of God and responds to it, and henceforth\\nfeels that he is set apart by heavenly hands to do the\\nwork which belongs to him. William Wordsworth,\\nwriting of his own call to his career, outlines what\\nmany another man has felt but could not so well de-\\nscribe\\nMy heart was full I made no vows, but vows\\nWere made for me bond unknown to me\\nWas given, that I should he else sinning greatly,\\nA dedicated spirit. On I walked\\nIn thankful blessedness which yet survives.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0037.jp2"}, "38": {"fulltext": "28\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nTHE SKELETON IN THE CLOSET.\\nIn London just at present the faddists and curio-\\ncollectors are vying with one another for the posses-\\nsion of the skeletons of dervishes that have been\\nbrought back from the bloody plains before Omdur-\\nman. Some two hundred dervish skeletons are on\\nthe London market, and experts in bones declare that\\ntheir superiority over the average skeletons of com-\\nmerce will cause no little stir in anatomical circles.\\nOne of the principal dealers in London states that\\nthese fine athletic dervishes make the best skeletons\\never put on the bone market. This seems like a\\nweird and forbidding subject, and yet the sad fact re-\\nmains that there are skeletons kept, not in the curio\\nhall or for display in the library, but in the social\\nclosets of many a prosperous-looking home. Sin and\\ndissipation take many a beautiful form, and transform\\nit into the family skeleton, a pitiful thing to be\\nashamed of.\\nFREEDOM AND RIGHT.\\nNo man is free who does not do what he feels he\\nought to do. After a man knows what is right there\\nis only one way to keep his freedom, and that is to\\nfollow that divine index-finger wherever it leads.\\nHow well Emerson puts it\\nFreedom s secret wilt thou know?\\nCounsel not with flesh and blood\\nLoiter not for cloak or food\\nRight thou feelest, rush to do.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0038.jp2"}, "39": {"fulltext": "GLOWING SOULS.\\n29\\nMICE AND MUSIC.\\nPeople living in flats in Harlem, New York City,\\nare complaining of mice in their pianos. The mice\\napparently learn to keep quite still when the piano is\\nbeing played, but scamper about at other times. Oc-\\ncasionally when the player has stopped for a few\\nmoments the mouse begins to race up and down the\\nstrings. It is well known to piano-tuners that mice,\\nif they have not really an ear for music, often have a\\ndecided liking for the vibration of the piano while it is\\nbeing played on. It may be by accident that a mouse\\nstrays into a piano first but after it gets the better of\\nits fear, when the piano is played it will return again.\\nBut all the music does not rob them of their sharp\\nteeth or of their mischievous habit of cutting valuable\\narticles. Musical culture, or, indeed, intellectual cul-\\nture of any kind, has never been able to eradicate the\\nmischievous and evil instinct from either mice or\\nmen. The heart must be transformed, and then cul-\\nture may do a great deal to beautify and polish.\\nGLOWING SOULS.\\nThere is near Pottstown, Pa., a large surface de-\\nposit of dark stones, covering several acres, called\\nringing rocks. They have a metallic sound when\\nstruck with a hammer, which gives them their name.\\nDuring a recent thunder-storm on a dark night persons\\npassing the rocks were startled to see a light bluish\\nflame rise from the ground and spread over a space", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0039.jp2"}, "40": {"fulltext": "30,\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nten or twelve yards square. This flame rose and fell\\nafter the manner of the Northern lights, lighting up\\nthe darkness around it. Some old residents in that\\nneighborhood say that these strange lights are always\\nseen on stormy nights. They explain that the rocks\\nare so metallic in formation that they attract all the\\nelectricity in the atmosphere for miles around, and\\nthrough some natural cause the electricity becomes\\nluminous like a phosphorescent glow. Scientific men\\ndeclare that the rocks are so highly charged with mag-\\nnetism that any electric disturbance will cause the\\nglow. It is possible for men and women to be so\\nhighly charged with the magnetism of the Holy Spirit\\nthat they will glow with a divine light, and will illu-\\nminate the spiritual darkness of the world about them.\\nIt is possible for every one of us to live a luminous\\nlife like that.\\nTHE RESTFULNESS OF THE SEA,\\nJohn Keats, in his sonnet on the sea, describes\\nwhat many a weary man or woman has felt to the\\ndepths of the soul\\nO ye who have your eyeballs vexed and tired,\\nFeast them upon the wildness of the sea\\nO ye whose ears are dimmed with uproar rude,\\nOr fed too much with cloying melody,\\nSit ye near some old cavern s mouth and brood\\nUntil ye start as if the sea-nymphs quired.\\nSELF-SURRENDER.\\nChristina Eossetti, in her poem Weary in Well-\\ndoing, paints a picture of the weary path through", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0040.jp2"}, "41": {"fulltext": "STALE FOOD.\\n31\\nwhich she came to surrender herself to God s will,\\nand thus points out the way over which many have\\ntraveled, and emphasizes with graphic force the great\\ntruth that only in complete submission to the will of\\nGod is there perfect peace. Our poet sings\\nI would have gone God bade me stay\\nI would have worked God bade me rest.\\nHe broke my will from day to day,\\nHe read my yearnings unexpressed,\\nAnd said them nay.\\nNow I would stay God bids me go\\nNow I would rest God bids me work.\\nHe breaks my heart tossed to and fro,\\nMy soul is wrung with doubts that lurk\\nAnd vex me so.\\nI go, Lord, where thou sendest me\\nDay after day I plod and moil\\nBut, Christ my God, when will it be\\nThat I may let alone my toil,\\nAnd rest with thee?\\nSTALE FOOD.\\nThere is a loaf of bread four thousand five hundred\\nyears old which was found in the tomb of Mentuhotep,\\nwho died in Egypt 2500 B.C. It is now in the Mu-\\nseum of Berlin. This loaf of bread is dark brown in\\ncolor. Inside are many large holes. Probably this\\npart of the bread long since fell into dust but much\\nof the bread still remains in the shape of whole ker-\\nnels and pieces of grain. Examination proves that\\nthe bread was made of barley, and the grains were", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0041.jp2"}, "42": {"fulltext": "32\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nonly rudely crushed and not sifted. It was not baked\\nin ovens, but after being kneaded into dough by the\\naddition of water was placed between two heated\\nstones, or was put on a plate and laid upon the red-\\nhot coals. This is perhaps the stalest loaf of bread\\nin the world, but there are people feeding themselves\\nevery day in a spiritual way on bread as useless as\\nthat. And it is entirely unnecessary that we should\\ndo this, for Christ is the living bread that came down\\nfrom heaven, and we may be fed daily on his fresh\\nthought and love for us.\\nVALUE OF STRONG MEN.\\nTennyson, in his Ode to Wellington, suggests the\\nimmense value to the great masses of mankind which\\ncomes from the strong characters who often stand to\\nthe weak as interpreters of God\\nFor tho the giant ages heave the hill\\nAnd break the shore, and evermore\\nMake and break, and work their will;\\nTho world on world in myriad myriads roll\\nBound us, each with different powers,\\nAnd other forms of life than ours,\\nWhat know we greater than the soul?\\nOn God and Godlike men we build our trust.\\nMAN-EATERS.\\nAs is generally known, a man-eating tiger is usually\\nan old beast which has passed his time for catching\\ngame, and so seeks an easier game in human beings.\\nBut tigers born of a man-eating tigress are always", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0042.jp2"}, "43": {"fulltext": "HUMILITY.\\n33\\nman-eaters, for they get their first lessons in hunting\\nfrom their mother. A tigress teaches her whelps to\\nhunt as a cat does her kittens, by bringing them live\\nprey to practise upon. Some years ago, in one of the\\nhill districts of India, a tigress was killed whose taking\\noff caused much rejoicing among the natives. She\\nwas known all over India as the man-eater who once\\nhad given her whelps a live man to play with. She\\ncarried off the man from an open hut in the forest,\\nwhere some wood-cutters were sleeping. His com-\\npanions took refuge in trees, and from their place of\\nsafety saw her take the man alive to where the whelps\\nwere waiting close by and lay him down before them.\\nAs the man attempted to crawl away the whelps would\\ncling to his legs with teeth and claws, the tigress look-\\ning on and purring with pleasure. Gossipers and scan-\\ndal-mongers are usually developed in the same way.\\nWhen people cease to have business of their own that\\ntakes up their thought and attention, they begin to\\nprey on other people. It is also true that the chil-\\ndren of a scandal-loving mother are almost certain\\nto develop the same man-eating trait. A bloodthirsty\\ntigress teaching her whelps to play with a live man\\nand thus teaching them how to kill is not an exagger-\\nated illustration of the viciousness c? a family brought\\nup to gossip and evil-speaking of their neighbors.\\nHUMILITY.\\nHumility is the only proper attitude for the human\\nsoul. Let any man who feels sure he has reason to\\n3", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0043.jp2"}, "44": {"fulltext": "34\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nbe proud and can never feel differently listen to the\\ntouching prayer which Helen Hunt Jackson wrote\\nwhen, only four days before her death, she poured out\\nher soul s pent-up fountain in this Last Prayer\\nFather, I scarcely dare to pray,\\nSo clear I see, now it is done,\\nThat I have wasted half my day,\\nArid left my work but just begun\\nSo clear I see that things I thought\\nWere right or harmless, were a sin\\nSo clear I see that I have sought\\nUnconscious, selfish aims to win\\nSo clear I see that I have hurt\\nThe souls I might have helped to save\\nThat I have slothful been, inert,\\nDeaf to the call thy leaders gave.\\nIn outskirts of thy kingdom vast,\\nFather, the lowliest spot give me\\nSet me the lowliest task thou hast\\nLet me, repentant, work for thee\\nTHE TESTIMONY OF THE LIFE.\\nAdelina Patti, the great singer, on her recent mar-\\nriage to Baron de Cederstrom, left orders at her home\\nthat her mail should all be forwarded to the Cannes\\npost-office. On her arrival she went to the post-office\\nand asked if there were any letters for the Baroness\\nAdelina de Cederstrom-Patti. Lots of them.\\nThen give them tome. 7 Have you any old let-\\nters by which I can identify you? No, I have\\nnothing but my visiting-card. Here it is. Oh,\\nthat s not enough, madam any one can get visiting-", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0044.jp2"}, "45": {"fulltext": "RESTFULNESS OF GREAT BOOKS. 35\\ncards of other people. If you want your mail, you\\nwill have to give me a better proof of your identity\\nthan that. A brilliant idea then struck Mme. Patti.\\nShe began to sing. A touching song she chose, the\\none beginning A voice loving and tender and\\nnever did she put more heart into the melody. And\\nmarvelous was the change as the brilliant music broke\\nthrough the intense silence. In a few minutes the\\nquiet post-office was filled with people, and hardly\\nhad the singer concluded the first few lines of the\\nballad when an old clerk came forward and said, trem-\\nbling with excitement: It s Patti, Patti! There s\\nnone but Adelina Patti who would sing like that.\\nWell, are you satisfied now? asked the singer of\\nthe official who had doubted her identity. The only\\nreply which he made was to go to the drawer and\\nhand her the pile of letters. If we are to convince\\nthe world of the divinity of Jesus Christ and his power\\nto transform poor sinful human hearts and lives into\\nhis own likeness, then we must prove it by the living\\ntestimony of our lives. We must learn to sing the\\nheavenly music.\\nTHE RESTFULNESS OF GREAT BOOKS.\\nLongfellow, in his comparison of the Divine Com-\\nedy to a vast cathedral, sets forth with graphic\\nbeauty the power of a great poem or a great work of\\nthe imagination to rest the soul of the reader, and to\\nhave upon him a worshipful influence. He declares\\nthat as the laborer comes in out of the dust and heat", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0045.jp2"}, "46": {"fulltext": "36\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nto say his prayers and goes away with soul refreshed,\\nso Dante s great book serves for him.\\nSo, as I enter here from day to day,\\nAnd leave my burden at this minster gate,\\nKneeling in prayer, and not ashamed to pray,\\nThe tumult of the time disconsolate\\nTo inarticulate murmurs dies away,\\nWhile the eternal ages watch and wait.\\nTAKE TIME TO FLY.\\nOn the coast of New Guinea there is a bird known\\nas maleo which deposits its eggs in a most unbirdlike\\nmanner, reminding one of the sea-turtles. During\\nthe laying season, instead of seeking some leafy bower\\nand there building its nest, it descends to the sea-\\nshore, and in the hot volcanic sand digs a hole three\\nor four feet across and two or more feet deep, in which\\nthe enormous eggs are deposited. When the full\\ncomplement is laid, the bird covers them up with\\nsand and deserts them, leaving them to the sun, as\\nin the case of turtles, to complete the work of hatch-\\ning. When this occurs, the young birds dig their way\\nout through the two or three feet of earth and run in\\nthe bush, fully able to care for themselves. A trader\\nwho had purchased from the natives a number of the\\neggs of this bird, placed them in the cabin of his trad-\\ning-vessel. It was hot in there, and the birds were\\nhatched out and literally flew from the broken shells\\nfully equipped for their struggle with the world. The\\ntrouble is, the birds are of no special value after they\\ndo fly. It takes an eagle a long time to develop the", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0046.jp2"}, "47": {"fulltext": "POWER OF A GREAT PURPOSE.\\n37\\nstrength, of wing that gives it the power to soar in the\\nface of the sun. A mushrooom growth is never desir-\\nable. Youth should take time to fly. Christians\\nshould take time for Bible-reading, and prayer, and\\nmeditation, and communion with God. It is those\\nthat wait upon the Lord who renew their strength and\\nmount up with wings as eagles.\\nCHRISTIAN OLD AGE.\\nEmerson sets forth the beauty and glory of the old\\nage of the Christian, who does not drift on the sea of\\nlife, but who has made a voyage with a definite pur-\\npose, and draws near the harbor at last with a heart\\nfull of courage and gladness\\nAs the bird trims her to the gale,\\nI trim myself to the storm of time\\nI man the rudder, reef the sail,\\nObey the voice at eve obeyed at prime\\nLowly, faithful, banish fear,\\nRight onward drive unharmed\\nThe port, well worth the cruise, is near,\\nAnd every wave is charmed.\\nTHE FREEING POWER OF A GREAT PURPOSE.\\nGeneral Wolseley, in a published account of his\\nmarch with a detachment to the relief of General\\nHavelock in the Indian mutiny, tells how, during a\\nnight march, a tiger sprang into the midst of his col-\\numn upon a bullock attached to an ammunition- wagon\\nand attempted to carry it away. The outcry and", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0047.jp2"}, "48": {"fulltext": "38\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nflashing of torches drove the tiger from the bullock,\\nyet he did not quit the field, but remained standing\\nunder a tree in full view, glaring at the procession\\nuntil it had marched by. As every cartridge and\\nevery minute was precious, and might mean the fate\\nof their fellow soldiers, the order was given that no\\nshot be fired at the tiger. So it is that one emotion\\nwill swallow up another. There is in this a clear\\nillustration of much of the philosophy of life. If you\\nhave no great purpose toward which you are pressing,\\nyou are at the mercy of every tiger-like annoyance\\nthat may leap out of ambush. But if you are one of\\nGod s soldiers, marching forth under his leadership\\nto help conquer the world for Christ, you are freed\\nfrom many of the petty fears that torment narrow\\nsouls.\\nTRANSITORINESS OF EARTHLY THINGS.\\nThomas Moore s oft-quoted poem, This World Is\\nAll a Fleeting Show, aptly describes the transient\\ncharacter of all worldly pleasures\\nThis world is all a fleeting show,\\nFor man s illusion given\\nThe smiles of joy, the tears of wo,\\nDeceitful shine, deceitful flow\\nThere s nothing true but Heaven\\nAnd false the light on glory s plume,\\nAs fading hues of even\\nAnd love and hope, and beauty s bloom,\\nAre blossoms gathered for the tomb\\nThere s nothing bright but Heaven", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0048.jp2"}, "49": {"fulltext": "THE HONEY OF LIFE. 39\\nPoor wanderers of a stormy day,\\nFrom wave to wave we re driven,\\nAnd fancy s flash and reason s ray\\nServe bnt to light the troubled way\\nThere s nothing calm but Heaven\\nTHE DEEPER VOICE,\\nWhat a splendid cable from earth to heaven is a\\nfaith like that of which Tennyson speaks\\nAnd all is well, tho faith and form\\nBe sundered in the night of fear\\nWell roars the storm to those that hear\\nA deeper voice across the storm.\\nTHE HONEY OF LIFE.\\nMany new experiments are being tried in honey-\\nmaking. The scientific producer of honey does not\\nallow his bees to pursue their own wanderings and sip\\nof the nectar of flowers where they please. Honey\\nmade in this promiscuous way is never of the best.\\nThe bees actions are now restricted and guided. As\\na result, no honey was ever so delicious as that which\\nis now being produced. A garden full of white sweet\\nclover from which every weed or strange flower is\\ncarefully purged is enclosed and roofed with a fine\\nwire netting, and the beehives are then placed within\\nthe enclosure, and the result is a honey very delicate\\nand almost white in color. What great improvement\\nthere would be in the honey of conversation and con-\\nduct among Christian people if they were as careful", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0049.jp2"}, "50": {"fulltext": "40\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nas this in selecting the sources from which to draw\\nthe nourishment of heart and spirit If a bee can not\\nget pure white honey from the wild vicious plants\\nthat grow in the pastures, why should we expect to\\nget the pure honey of life from promiscuous fellow-\\nships and communion with worldliness?\\nLOVE AND JUSTICE*\\nNo one has more clearly shown the difference be-\\ntween love and justice, and the superiority of love\\nover justice, than Wilhelm Mtiller in his splendid epi-\\ngram:\\nJustice to each one says, Have what is thine\\nBut Love to each one says, Have what is mine\\nTATTOOED ROYALTY,\\nTattooing is just now the popular pastime of the\\nleisured world. One of the best-known men in high\\nEuropean circles, the Grand Duke Alexis of Russia, is\\nmost elaborately tattooed. Prince and Princess Wal-\\ndemar of Denmark, Queen Olga of Greece, King Oscar\\nof Sweden, the Duke of York, the Grand Duke Con-\\nstantine, and many others of royal and distinguished\\nrank are said to have submitted themselves to the tat-\\ntooing process. This seems rather small business for\\nroyalty, and a degradation of the beauty of the human\\nform. But there is a tattooing process far more seri-\\nous than that. It is the tattooing of the character.\\nWhile it seems strange enough that a great distin-", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0050.jp2"}, "51": {"fulltext": "BETTER TO US THAN WE DESERVE. 41\\nguished man should take a pleasure in having a ser-\\npent tattooed into the skin of his arm or breast, it is\\nfar stranger that a man born to be the son of God and\\ncapable of living a pure and noble life should tattoo\\nhimself in his thoughts and imaginations and in his\\nvery soul with the serpent of evil, so that everywhere\\nhe bears the brand of his Satanic master.\\nBETTER TO US THAN WE DESERVE.\\nA miner in Australia had reached the very last of\\nhis resources without finding a speck of gold. There\\nwas nothing for it, therefore, but to turn back on the\\nmorrow, while a mouthful of food was left, and to\\nretrace his steps as best he might to the nearest port.\\nThe last day s fruitless work left him too weak and\\nexhausted to carry his heavy tools back to camp. So\\nhe just flung them down and staggered over the two\\nor three miles of desert, guided by the smoke of the\\ncamp-fire. Next morning early, after a great deal of\\nsleep and very little food, he braced himself up to go\\nback and fetch his tools. He would not have gone\\nfor them, but he thought they might bring the price\\nof a meal or two when it came to the last. The way\\nseemed twice as long as usual, for his heart was too\\nheavy to carry. At last he saw his barrow and pick\\nstanding up on the flat plain a little way off He was\\nwearily dragging on toward them, when he caught his\\ntoe against a stone deeply embedded in the sand and\\nfell down. That seemed to be the straw which broke\\nthe camel s back to think that, after all his hard", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0051.jp2"}, "52": {"fulltext": "42\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nluck, he should nearly break his toe against the only\\nstone in the district. He lay there like Job s friend,\\nand cursed God and wanted to die. After a bit he\\nfelt like a passionate child, and thought he must beat\\nthat stone before he could feel quiet. But it was too\\nfirm in the sand for his hands to get it up so in his\\nrage he went and got his pick to dig out that stone so\\nthat he might smash it. He dug it up, and it was\\nsolid gold. He carried it safely to the seacoast, and\\nit brought him $8,000. Telling a sympathetic\\nwoman about it, without sparing himself, or hiding\\nhis curses at his ill luck, he then showed her the great\\nnugget of gold and asked: Now, ma am, I ask you,\\ndid I deserve this? How many of us might well\\nhold our great nuggets of blessing up before God and\\ncry out Did I deserve this?\\nA SISTER S LOVE.\\nChristina Eossetti has sung a beautiful note of the\\nsweet and gentle passion which often binds two sisters\\ntogether\\nFor there is no friend like a sister,\\nIn calm or stormy weather,\\nTo cheer one on the tedious way,\\nTo fetch one if one goes astray,\\nTo lift one if one totters down,\\nTo strengthen whilst one stands.\\nTHE WORLD MOVES.\\nA decided curiosity in legislation has been enacted\\nin Massachusetts which confirms the old adage that it", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0052.jp2"}, "53": {"fulltext": "AT LIFE S WHEEL.\\n43\\nis never too late to right a wrong. More than two\\nhundred and sixty years ago Roger Williams, then\\nsettled in Salem, was ordered by the general court to\\ndepart from the jurisdiction of Massachusetts within\\nsix weeks. Subsequently permission was given him\\nto remain in Salem till the following spring, on con-\\nditions he was unable to keep. When about to be ar-\\nrested for persevering in his free speech, he was en-\\nabled to escape three days before the officers of the\\ncourt reached his lodging-place. What he subse-\\nquently accomplished for religion, education, and\\nhumanity is known of all men. Now, in the year\\n1899, the decree of banishment, or the record of the\\noriginal order of the court, is brought from its pigeon-\\nhole, and, by an ordinary motion seconded and\\nadopted, is annuled, repealed, and made of no effect\\nwhatever. How Roger Williams must smile up in\\nheaven, if he knows about it He has been free a\\nlong time but it is always well for a State or for a\\nman frankly to confess wrongdoing, and Massachu-\\nsetts is to be congratulated. Every man that has\\ntaken a wrong step should follow the illustrious ex-\\nample\\nAT LIFE S WHEEL.\\nHelen Hunt Jackson has sung of the deep things of\\nlife in her poem of Spinning\\nLike a blind spinner in the sun,\\nI tread my days\\nI know that all my threads will run\\nAppointed ways", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0053.jp2"}, "54": {"fulltext": "44\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nI know each day will bring its task,\\nAnd being blind, no more I ask.\\nI do not know the use or name\\nOf that I spin\\nI only know that some one came,\\nAnd laid within\\nMy hand the thread, and said, Since you\\nAre blind, but one thing you can do.\\nSometimes the threads so rough and fast\\nAnd tangled fly\\nI know wild storms are sweeping past,\\nAnd fear that I\\nShall fall but dare not try to find\\nA safer place, since I am blind.\\nI know not why, but I am sure\\nThat tint and place,\\nIn some great fabric to endure\\nPast time and race,\\nMy threads will have so from the first,\\nTho blind, I never felt accurst.\\nI think, perhaps, this trust has sprung\\nFrom one short word\\nSaid over me when I was young,\\nSo young, I heard\\nIt, knowing not that God s name signed\\nMy brow, and sealed me his, tho blind.\\nBut whether this be sealed or sign\\nWithin, without,\\nIt matters not. The bond divine\\nI never doubt.\\nI know he set me here, and still\\nAnd glad and blind, I wait his will\\nBut listen, listen, day by day,\\nTo hear their tread", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0054.jp2"}, "55": {"fulltext": "HOLLOW AT THE HEART.\\n45\\nWho bear the finished web away,\\nAnd cut the thread,\\nAnd bring God s message in the sun,\\nThou poor blind spinner, work is done.\\nHOLLOW AT THE HEART.\\nIn Baltimore one Sunday morning, as the people\\nwere going to church, a telegraph-pole, large and\\nstrong and round, looking as stalwart as any other in\\nthe line, suddenly did a strange thing. It never\\nwould have been heard of except for that queer hap-\\npening. Without any warning, like a great, strong\\nman struck down by an unseen bullet, the pole\\ngroaned, and then, with a snapping, tearing, grind-\\ning sound, the upper portion fell to the street, leav-\\ning about twenty-five feet standing. The people\\nlooked on and wondered. A crowd soon gathered,\\nmarveling at what should have caused such a catas-\\ntrophe. There was no hurricane, not even a brisk\\nbreeze, and surely not enough to sever such a pole as\\nthat, which had weathered so many storms. Just\\nthen a small boy began to climb the stump that was\\nleft, to investigate. When he reached the top, he\\nfound that right where the pole had broken was a\\nscooped-out place where a pair of woodpeckers had cut\\nout their nest, and there in the nest was a poor little\\nwoodpecker frightened half to death. Unnoticed, but\\nsteadily, stroke after stroke, the birds had dug their\\nway back into the heart of the great, strong telegraph-\\npole, until they had sapped its strength. Sometimes a\\nman comes crashing down in the city. His outer life", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0055.jp2"}, "56": {"fulltext": "46\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nhas seemed strong and round and respectable. People\\nhave believed in him and trusted him, but he suddenly\\ncomes down in his ruin. The whole world marvels\\nat it but after a little it is discovered that some secret\\nsin had eaten into his heart, and the strength of the\\nman s life was gone, tho he looked to the world as\\nstrong as ever. Look out for the secret sin\\nTHE VALUE OF A SOUL,\\nNo man can tell how great a deed he has wrought\\nwhen he has saved a soul, a human immortal soul,\\nfrom going down into darkness, and helped it upward\\nto its wings and on its flight toward heaven. Keats\\nsuggests this value that is beyond human measure in\\nthose beautiful lines in which he declares that\\nMan is more than half of nature s treasure,\\nOf that fair beauty which no eye can see,\\nOf that sweet music which no ear can measure.\\nLOVE OR LEGALITY.\\nA certain old merchant told me a very interesting\\nstory about his son. He has only one boy, and when\\nhe became of age the father called him into his count-\\ning-room and said Now, Fritz, you are twenty-one,\\nand I have made up my mind to take you into the\\nfirm with me. Fritz seemed very much pleased at\\nthis announcement. Yes, said the father, I have\\ndetermined that I will give you outright one-third in-\\nterest in my entire business. At this further an-", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0056.jp2"}, "57": {"fulltext": "THE PERMANENCE OF THE UNSEEN. 47\\nnouncement Fritz beamed with. joy. But, 7 said the\\nfather, if I am to take you into partnership, we\\nmust, of course, have a regular business arrangement,\\njust the same as if we were not related. I have drawn\\nup a little contract here, in which I have set the limit\\nof the amount that each one will be permitted to draw\\nfrom the business. You will notice that I have placed\\nyour limit at two hundred dollars a month. At this\\nannouncement the countenance of young Fritz fell.\\nHe thought it over for a few minutes, and then he\\nsaid Father, I think I would rather be your son\\nthan your partner. You have never denied me any-\\nthing in my life that I have asked for. If I wanted\\na hundred or a thousand dollars, you have never re-\\nfused me. Let things go on just as they are. You\\nshall own it all, and I will be your son. The old\\nman chuckled a good deal over the shrewdness of the\\nlad. The Christian s relation to God is like that.\\nOur morality is not a mere legal thing, but we are his\\nsons and when we give up our hearts to him in lov-\\ning sonship, giving him our service for love s sweet\\nsake, he will give us a blank check that will more\\nthan cover all our needs.\\nTHE PERMANENCE OF THE UNSEEN.\\nWordsworth, with great clearness, sets forth in the\\nfollowing lines the truth of Paul s statement that it\\nis the unseen and spiritual verities which endure\\nPossessions vanish and opinions change\\nAnd passions hold a fluctuating seat", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0057.jp2"}, "58": {"fulltext": "48\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nBut by the storms of circumstance unshaken\\nAnd subject neither to eclipse nor wane,\\nDuty exists immutably survive\\nFor our support the measures and the forms\\nThat abstract intelligence supplies\\nWhose kingdom is where time and space are not.\\nBRUTALITY THE SAME IN RICH AND POOR.\\nA writer in The Criterion recently attended a prize-\\nfight in New York City to study the class of people to\\nbe seen there, and was astonished to find that he knew\\nnearly everybody in the front rows in other associa-\\ntions that made it strange to see them there. He saw\\nin that crowd faces of men prominent in nearly all\\nprofessions and walks of life a politician who has\\nsat in three cabinets and whose name is known the\\nworld over, his face discreetly hidden under the collar\\nof his long coat and the brim of his hat Tammany\\npoliticians of smaller size were. there in great num-\\nbers, from those drawing big salaries out of the pub-\\nlic purse down to the Bowery saloon-keeper, or the\\npolice sergeant who found it hard to spare the twenty-\\nfive dollars from the housekeeping expenses for the\\npurpose of attending the fight. But he must keep lit-\\nerally and figuratively in touch with the police com-\\nmissioner sitting not far away, with a murderer who\\nescaped from the gallows on a technicality on one\\nside of him, and the keeper of an all-night restaurant\\non the other, or give up the rising hope of a captaincy.\\nA star surgeon just fresh from an operation; the law-\\nyer fighting his way through a great criminal trial", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0058.jp2"}, "59": {"fulltext": "GOD S SMILING FACE IN NATURE. 49\\nthe editor of a great newspaper a leading financier\\nprize-fighters who have long passed the championship\\njockeys, trainers, actors out of an engagement every\\nkind of man representative of the fever of the market\\nby day and the underground wickedness of a great\\ncity by night, was represented there all imbued with\\none common lust. And on each face he observed the\\nsame expression, curiously repeated, of a blind, tense\\nhunger, such as may be seen sometimes in a menagerie\\nwhen the wild beasts are to be fed. It is not the\\nlength of a man s pocketbook, nor the kind of house\\nhe lives in, nor the grammatical expression which he\\ngives to his tongue, that tells the kind of man he is.\\nIt is the mastery over mind and heart. If a man has\\ngiven his inner nature over to appetite and lust and\\npassion, then he is a brutal man, whether he live in a\\npalace or a hovel; whether he sit in the mayor s chair\\nor rule over the prize-ring. Out of the heart come\\nthe issues of life, and if a man is to be saved, the\\nheart must be captured for Christ.\\nGOD S SMILING FACE IN NATURE.\\nNo poet was more sensitive to the presence of God\\nin the changing scenes of nature than Whittier. The\\nspirit of worship is in these lines of his poem on The\\nLakeside\\nThanks, our Father that, like him,\\nThy tender love I see,\\nIn radiant hill and woodland dim,\\nAnd tinted sunset sea.\\n4", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0059.jp2"}, "60": {"fulltext": "50\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nFor not in mockery dost thou fill\\nOur earth with light and grace\\nThou hid st no dark and cruel will\\nBehind thy smiling face\\nA PROUD BEGGAR.\\nAn amusing story conies from Spain, which will in-\\nterest many who are trying to solve the problem of\\ndealing with people who have so lost their self-respect\\nthat they have become mere human leeches. It is re-\\nlated that in Madrid a beggar had for a long time oc-\\ncupied a certain step at the entrance of a church,\\nwhere he held out his hat for alms from arriving wor-\\nshipers. To this church there came every day a cer-\\ntain well-to-do gentleman to offer up his prayers, and\\nthis gentleman was accustomed to deposit a ten-cen-\\ntavo piece in the waiting beggar s hat as he came up\\nthe stairs. But it happened that the gentleman fell\\nill, and for two weeks was confined to his bed. As\\nsoon as he was able to be out again, he resumed his\\nattendance at daily worship, and as he passed up he\\nput his coin in the beggar s hat and was going on into\\nthe church. The beggar seized his coat-tail. Par-\\ndon me, senor, he said, but have you not a little\\naccount to settle with me? What! asked the\\ngentleman. An account with you? What do you\\nmean? Why, yes, said the beggar. You are\\naccustomed, are you not, to give me ten centavos as\\nyou come in? Well, have I not just given you the\\ncoin? Ah, but you give me ten centavos every\\nday. You have not been here for fourteen days.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0060.jp2"}, "61": {"fulltext": "GOD GIVES US A NEW CHANCE. 51\\nTherefore you owe me a hundred and forty cent avos.\\nGet out answered the gentleman. This is alms,\\nnot a salary, and I owe you no alms when I am ab-\\nsent. The beggar drew himself up loftily and flung\\nback the ten-centavo piece to the gentleman. Well,\\nthen, he exclaimed, if you have no more honor than\\nthat, you can go and get another beggar I shall have\\nno more to do with you One might also see in\\nthis story an illustration of how an appetite or lust,\\nyielded to, grows into a habit and demands its daily\\nfood, except that there is this stronger point on the\\nquestion of habit, that it demands a larger and still\\nlarger alms from day to day.\\nGOD GIVES US A NEW CHANCE.\\nElla Higginson, under the title When the Birds\\nGo North Again, sings a pretty little song of hope,\\nillustrating the goodness of God in giving to the sad-\\ndest heart a new chance for blessing and achievements.\\nOh, every year hath its winter,\\nAnd every year hath its rain\\nBut a day is always coming\\nWhen the birds go north again\\nWhen new leaves swell in the forest,\\nAnd grass springs green on the plain,\\nAnd the alder s veins turn crimson\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nAnd the birds go north again.\\nOh, every heart hath its sorrow,\\nAnd every heart hath its pain\\nBut a day is always coming\\nWhen the birds go north again.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0061.jp2"}, "62": {"fulltext": "52\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nTis the sweetest thing to remember\\nIf courage be on the wane,\\nWhen the cold, dark days are over\\nWhy, the birds go north again.\\nTHE EFFECT OF CULTURE.\\nThe Department of Agriculture at Washington has\\nbeen sending out agents, who are food-students, into\\nall parts of the world to discover if possible new\\nsources of food-supply, and it is very interesting to\\nnote their reports. Among other things a wonderful\\nreserve-fund for the human appetite is to be found in\\nthe vegetable diet of the Klamath Indians in Oregon.\\nA novel variety of food forming a menu unknown to\\nthe civilized is offered in the pulp of the great yellow\\nwater-lily, which is converted into a farinaceous food\\nin the weed known as goosefoot, which bears a black\\nseed that is ground up for loaves and cakes and in\\nthe arrowhead, which in the fall develops a starchy\\nwhite tuber at the end of the roots not to mention\\nthe tubers that resemble beets, turnips, and carrots,\\nthe nuts that are ground into coffee, and the flower-\\nleaves that furnish fairy-like desserts. The taming\\nof wild fruits is another branch of the food-agent s\\nbusiness. Mr. Augustus Henry, who is an authority\\non Chinese flora, states that there are at least one hun-\\ndred varieties of fruits growing wild in the interior of\\nChina that, if transplanted to another soil and prop-\\nerly cultivated, would prove as important a food-sup-\\nply as our present necessary apple and pear. The Le\\nConte pear, which has revolutionized pear-growing in", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0062.jp2"}, "63": {"fulltext": "LIFE-SHIP ON FIRE.\\n53\\nSouthern California, was originally the Chinese sand-\\npear, grown solely for ornamental purposes. The\\neffect of culture in the vegetable world is not more\\nmarked than in the intellectual and spiritual worlds.\\nMany men and women are growing up mere human\\nweeds who might be a great blessing to humanity if\\nthe mind and heart were properly cultivated.\\nTHE LORD S TORCHES.\\nThat God has a purpose in the talents he has given\\nus and in the spiritual illumination bestowed upon us,\\nand that unless we fulfil that purpose his gifts will\\ncease, Shakespeare makes very clear in the first act of\\nMeasure for Measure\\nHeaven doth with us, as we with torches do,\\nNot light them for themselves. For if our virtues\\nDid not go forth of us, twere all alike\\nAs if we had them not.\\nLIFE-SHIP ON FIRE.\\nThe captain of the ship Manuel Llaguna, which re-\\ncently arrived in New York from Shanghai, reported\\nthat west of Bermuda he fell in with a burning ship\\nat sea. The vessel s cargo was on fire and the flames\\nlit up the sea for miles around. The captain circled\\nabout the ship, and lay by for eighteen hours, but he\\ncould not discern her name. There were no signs of\\nlife aboard, and the vessel had apparently been on\\nfire for some time. What had become of her crew\\nthey could not learn. How many human life-ships", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0063.jp2"}, "64": {"fulltext": "54\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nare floating helplessly on the sea of life, burning\\ndown to utter ruin, enveloped in flames of lust and\\npassion! The will power is driven from the helm,\\nand the sails have perished. How unwise for any\\none to keep shut under the hatches the smoldering\\nbeginnings of such a flame The only safety is to\\ndestroy the fire at once.\\nGOD S JUSTICE.\\nSurely no poet writing of God s dealings with men\\nhas ever more completely vindicated his justice con-\\ncerning that vexed question of why the good man often\\nmisses riches and fame than Coleridge in his twin\\npoems Complaint and Reproof\\nHow seldom, friend, a good great man inherits\\nHonor or wealth, with all his worth and pains\\nIt sounds like stories from the land of spirits,\\nIf any man obtain that which he merits\\nOr any merit that which he obtains.\\nFor shame, dear friend Kenounce this canting strain\\nWhat wouldst thou have a good great man obtain?\\nPlace titles salary a gilded chain\\nOr throne of corses which his sword has slain?\\nGreatness and goodness are not means, but ends\\nHath he not always treasures, always friends,\\nThe good great man? Three treasures, love and light,\\nAnd calm thoughts, regular as an infant s breath\\nAnd three firm friends, more sure than day and night\\nHimself, his Maker, and the angel Death.\\nCHARACTER TURNED BLACK.\\nA Western paper has the story of a white man who\\nrecently turned black in less than an hour s time. It", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0064.jp2"}, "65": {"fulltext": "CONQUERING TEMPTATION. 55\\nis asserted that from the tips of his toes to the top of\\nhis head he became as black as a negro, and from no\\napparent cause. He was employed in a tannery. He\\nwent to work as usual one morning and was feeling\\nperfectly well. Soon he noticed that the workmen\\nwere looking at him queerly, and then their astonish-\\nment gave way to fear. He asked what was the mat-\\nter, and was told that he was turning black. The\\nmanager of the tannery sent him home, and by the\\ntime he arrived there he was ink black from head to\\nfoot. The physicians have not been able as yet to\\ndiscover the cause of the strange occurrence. What-\\never may be the truth in regard to this incident, cer-\\ntain it is that men s characters change from the white\\ninnocence of youth to the black sinfulness of iniquity,\\nand men get so accustomed to seeing that sort of trans-\\nformation that it often happens without creating any\\nexcitement. It comes on so insidiously that a man\\npasses through the transformation and is not himself\\nseriously alarmed, but the final result is none the less\\nhideous and terrible because the transformation comes\\nby degrees.\\nCONQUERING TEMPTATION.\\nThere is the smoke of battle and the atmosphere of\\nvictory in these great lines of Browning, which tell of\\nman s power through God s grace to overcome the\\ntemptations that beset him\\nWas the trial sore?\\nTemptation sharp? Thank God a second time.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0065.jp2"}, "66": {"fulltext": "56\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nWhy comes temptation but for man to meet\\nAnd master, and make crouch beneath his foot,\\nAnd so be pedestaled in triumph? Pray,\\nLead us iDto no such temptations, Lord\\nYea, but, O Thou whose servants are the bold,\\nLead such temptations by the head and hair,\\nReluctant dragons, up to who dares fight,\\nThat so he may do battle and have praise.\\nCOURAGE WINS RESPECT.\\nGen. Hector MacDonald, who came to the front in\\nSouth Africa and was seriously wounded, has a great\\nrecord for courage and daring. He was taken prisoner\\nat Majuba Hill by the Boers, but he remained to the\\nend unbeaten, for when, after a desperate resistance,\\nhe was at last disarmed and a couple of Boers ran at\\nhim, MacDonald met them with his naked fists, and\\nhis assailants went reeling back. Finding him so\\nhard to tackle, they were for putting a bullet through\\nhis head, but a Boer with an appreciation of pluck\\nintervened. No, he said, this is a brave man,\\nand we shall spare him. Let us take him prisoner at\\nall hazards. No man has ever had greater success\\nin making soldiers out of uncivilized natives than\\nMacDonald. He has been usually greatly loved by\\nthem, but once his dusky Sudanese mutinied against\\nhim. One day during the march MacDonald over-\\nheard two or three of the native soldiers saying:\\nWait until the next fight and I will take care that\\nthis slave-driver of a colonel does not come Out alive.\\nI myself will shoot him. MacDonald recognized the\\nmen by their voices, called a halt, and sternly ordered", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0066.jp2"}, "67": {"fulltext": "GOD S LOVE FOR THE HUMBLE. 57\\nthe culprits to step out from the ranks. Facing them\\nhe cried Now, you are the men who are going to\\nshoot me in the next fight. Why wait so long? Why\\nnot do it now? Here I am. Shoot me, if you dare\\nThe rebels grounded their arms in sullen silence.\\nWhy don t you shoot? asked their colonel. Be-\\ncause you don t seem to care whether you die or not,\\nand that reluctant answer explained the secret of his\\npower over half-savage soldiers. There was no more\\ngrumbling, and the same men, and others like them,\\nafter that devotedly followed MacDonald on many a\\nhard-fought battlefield. Eeal courage always wins\\nrespect. The secret of great moral leadership is,\\nabove all, in supreme moral courage.\\nGOD S LOVE FOR THE HUMBLE*\\nJames Eussell Lowell, in writing of the mission of\\nthe poet, describes and emphasizes his vision of God s\\ncare for little things, and his faith in God s care over\\nthe humble and the weak, as truly as his interest in\\nthe great and famous\\nHe knew that the One Soul no more rejoices\\nIn the star s anthem than the insect s hum.\\nHe in his heart was ever meek and humble,\\nAnd yet with kingly pomp his numbers ran,\\nAs he foresaw how all things false should crumble\\nBefore the free, uplifted soul of man\\nAnd, when he was made full to overflowing\\nWith all the loveliness of heaven and earth,\\nOutrushed his song, like molten iron glowing,\\nTo show God sitting by the humblest hearth.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0067.jp2"}, "68": {"fulltext": "58\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nHUMAN FALCONS.\\nFalconry, a sport which, was common in Europe\\ntwo or three centuries ago, is being revived among\\nthe nobility. It is said that the Dutch hawk-catchers\\nare unable to take enough falcons to meet the orders\\nof their English and French patrons. These Dutch\\nfalcons, taken when following the flights of all kinds\\nof birds, are the pick of the catch, but far more are\\ntaken from nests when very young. In England the\\nHawking Club meets every spring on Salisbury Plain\\nto fly falcons at rooks. Everything is as well done as\\nin the days of James I. There may be from twelve\\nto twenty falcons, with the falconer and his cart, and\\nthe members on horseback. There is plenty of dash\\nand excitement in the business. Sometimes an old\\nand keen falcon is flown at a rook within easy reach,\\nbut she does not want the prey so near at hand, and\\nso mounts to the very clouds till she spies another\\nflock, into which she darts like a shooting-star. Eid-\\ners dash off across the down, their eyes fixed upon the\\nhawk, and the falconer shouts, She has killed\\nwhen he sees something fall from the flock. Off dash\\nthe riders, who have marked the descent of the vic-\\ntim, and soon the bird is taken up. In America we\\nlicense the falconers in all our towns and cities. In\\nsome cities we license many thousands of them. They\\ndo not hunt for rooks, but for men and boys. They\\ndo not go out on the plain after them, but draw them\\ninto their net and work on them at close range, and", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0068.jp2"}, "69": {"fulltext": "THE DRINK ADDER.\\n59\\nevery day in all parts of the country the newspapers\\nbring us the news of the victims, and tell of this fal-\\ncon and that falcon which has killed its prey. A hun-\\ndred thousand men and boys and women have the\\nbeak of the cruel bird stabbed into their hearts every\\nyear. But the falconer pays his license fee, and the\\npeople shut their eyes to the horrid butchery, while\\nthe work of death goes on.\\nRIGHTEOUS AWARDS.\\nEmerson had an abiding faith that every man would\\nget in the end exactly what he deserved. He brings\\nthis out in these virile lines taken from his poem\\nCompensation\\nMan s the elm, and Wealth the vine\\nStanch and strong the tendrils twine\\nTho the frail ringlets thee deceive,\\nNone from its stock that vine can reave.\\nTear not, then, thou child infirm,\\nThere s no god dare wrong a worm\\nLaurel crowns cleave to deserts,\\nAnd power to him who power exerts.\\nHast not thy share? On wing d feet,\\nLo it rushes thee to meet\\nAnd all that Nature made thy own,\\nFloating in air or pent in stone,\\nWill rive the hills and swim the sea,\\nAnd, like thy shadow, follow thee.\\nTHE DRINK ADDER.\\nA story comes from Paris of an American girl em-\\nployed as a typewriter at an American bicycle agency", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0069.jp2"}, "70": {"fulltext": "60\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nthere, who inherited $18,000 from an uncle in Amer-\\nica. She was a quiet, self-respecting girl until she\\ngot the money, but after obtaining her little fortune\\nshe became acquainted with some rather fast Ameri-\\ncan friends, among whom she acquired the habit of\\nstrong drink. In less than two months she was lying\\ncritically ill in a hospital, having been picked up in a\\nstate of frightful intoxication. Her money had been\\neither exhausted or stolen, and she is now penniless.\\nShe begs constantly for strong drink. The physicians\\nsay she may recover temporarily, but that the liquor\\nhabit is so strong upon her that it will kill her. Both\\nfor man and woman the Word of God is true when it\\nspeaks of the serpent in the cup, and declares that at\\nthe last it stingeth like an adder.\\nBEARING UP UNDER TRIALS,\\nWhat a splendid spectacle of pluck and endurance\\nand holy courage blind old Milton is when we hear\\nhim saying:\\nYet I argue not\\nAgainst Heaven s hand, or will not bate a jot\\nOf heart or hope, but still bear up and steer\\nRight onward.\\nTHE SAVING SALT.\\nBy the terms of peace agreed to by the United\\nStates and Spain as a basis for a treaty of peace, we\\ncome into possession not only of Porto Eico, but of\\nall the other West Indian islands except Cuba. Most\\nof these islands are very small, some being hardly", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0070.jp2"}, "71": {"fulltext": "S UGARCOA TING THE DEVIL. 61\\nmore than specks on the ocean s surface, while others\\nare large enough to be habitable, with fresh water for\\nthose who choose to inhabit them. The largest of them\\nis the Cayo Eomano, with an estimated area of one\\nhundred and eighty square miles, its surface broken\\nby three hillocks. The chief industry there, and, in-\\ndeed, the only one that will thrive, is that of gather-\\ning salt. The island is filled with depressions from one\\nto two feet deep. During the storms the waves dash\\nover the keys and leave the depressions filled with\\nwater. When summer comes with its burning sun, the\\nheat dries the water and a deposit of salt is left. If\\nwe have the saving salt of goodness in our character\\nand spirit, tho we may seem to be greatly hindered in\\nthe good deeds we try to accomplish, yet our conver-\\nsation and influence will leave a deposit of helpfulness\\nin the hearts of all those who come to know us.\\nMany people unconsciously do a great deal of good in\\nthat way. Their salt never loses its savor.\\nSUGARCOATING THE DEVIL,\\nIn these lines from the third act of Hamlet\\nShakespeare runs a sharp rapier through the heart of\\nthe foolish compromises men make with evil, and\\nmakes appear silly enough those who try to hide the\\nevil principle beneath a pious or sanctimonious phrase\\nor manner.\\nTis too much proved, that, with devotion s visage,\\nAnd pious action we do sugar o er\\nThe devil himself.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0071.jp2"}, "72": {"fulltext": "\u00e2\u0082\u00ac2\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nEYES TO THE BLIND.\\nA little daughter of a railroad engineer in Fernan-\\ndina, Ma., who was born blind, with cataracts over\\nher eyes, recently saw the light for the first time\\nafter a successful operation by a great surgeon in Bal-\\ntimore. After the operation was performed, the\\nchild s eyes were soothingly dressed, and she fell into\\na refreshing sleep. The next day the bandages were\\nremoved, and after moving her eyelids quickly up and\\ndown for some seconds, she exclaimed in great joy:\\nI can see Oh, there is light The mother of the\\nchild was at her side, and both of them were wild\\nwith joy at the child s recovery. We are the disciples\\nof Him who is the Light of the world, and the hap-\\npiest privilege of our lives is to attract those who are\\nin blindness to the great Physician, who can fill them\\nwith the true light.\\nTHE POINT OF VIEW.\\nA great deal depends upon how we look at life.\\nLooking on the dark side with a carping, critical eye,\\nmost people can find trouble enough so that life will\\nnot seem worth living. But if we try to make the\\nbest of it and seek to make it better for somebody\\nelse, we shall be astonished to see how much glad-\\nness there is in it. Paul Laurence Dunbar sets the\\ntruth very clear in these two verses\\nA crust of bread and a corner to sleep in,\\nA minute to smile and an hour to weep in,", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0072.jp2"}, "73": {"fulltext": "LOOKING ON BOTH SIDES. 63\\nA pint of joy to a peck of trouble,\\nAnd never a laugh but the moans come double\\nAnd that is life\\nA crust and a corner that love makes precious,\\nWith a smile to warm and the tears to refresh us\\nAnd the joys seem sweeter when care comes after,\\nAnd the moan is the finest of foils for laughter\\nAnd that is life\\nCHRISTIANITY GOES TO THE ROOT.\\nShortly before his death, which occurred in 1866,\\nMassimo d Azeglio, statesman, orator, poet, the\\npainter of Orlando Furioso, but, above all, the\\ntrusty friend and valued counselor of Victor Emman-\\nuel, was talking to a Frenchman, who congratulated\\nhim upon the unification of Italy. Yes, was the\\nreply, we have made a new Italy. Now we must\\nendeavor to make new Italians. Christianity does\\nnot propose to save sinners by any sort of outward\\nor ceremonial process, but by the inner transforma-\\ntion of the heart with its affections and ambitions.\\nBecoming a Christian is to become a new creature,\\nmastered by the spirit of Christ.\\nLOOKING ON BOTH SIDES.\\nA good deal of the sorrow and trouble that come\\nbetween the rich and the poor is because people look\\nonly from their own point of view. The ideal of\\nChristianity is that the strong and the weak, the rich\\nand the poor, shall treat each other with brotherly", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0073.jp2"}, "74": {"fulltext": "64\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nsympathy and fellowship. Sarah K. Bolton sets forth\\nin a little poem the danger of growing hard and cold\\nin either severe poverty or great riches.\\nWhen all day long, footsore and tired,\\nWe seek for work but seek in vain,\\nAnd wan-eyed children cry for food,\\nAnd mothers stifle sobs of pain\\nWhile other homes are bright and warm\\nAnd table laid without regard\\nTo hungry, homeless, shivering poor,\\nOh keep us, Lord, from feeling hard.\\nWhen riches have been won, and life\\nIs full of luxury and care,\\nWith costly yachts, or splendid homes,\\nAnd hosts of friends our joys to share\\nWe turn our faces from the slums,\\nAnd selfishly our time we guard\\nLest want annoy us with its calls\\nLord, keep us then from being hard.\\nA RESCUED VIOLIN*\\nA Baltimore musician has recently made a rare find\\nin discovering Thomas Jefferson s famous violin, in\\nthe hands of a nonogenarian negro, near Charlottes-\\nville, Va. He had heard of its existence accidentally,\\nand hunted up the old negro at the base of the Mon-\\nticello mountains. He asked to see the violin, and\\nthe old negro, bent with his ninety-three years,\\nbrought it out to him. Opening it, he saw that the\\nmoths had had a feast with the red lining of the\\nleather case but the instrument itself was wrapped\\nin a piece of old cloth, and the minute the musician s", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0074.jp2"}, "75": {"fulltext": "GOD OUR ONLY HOPE.\\n65\\neyes looked on it lie knew it was a specimen of the\\nbest of Nicholas Amati s violins. He succeeded in\\nbargaining for it, and found that all that was needed\\nwere a few repairs, and it is now a singing beauty with-\\nout a faulty tone. There is no musical instrument in\\nthe world, however, equal to the human heart. Christ\\nis the great discoverer of the heart and its music he\\nis seeking after lost men because he knows the sweet\\nmusic that shall come from their hearts at his touch.\\nThis is the glory of Christianity that it seeks after\\nthe lost and makes music where the world hears only\\ndiscord.\\nGOD OUR ONLY HOPE,\\nFaber teaches what many sincere Christians have\\nfelt that even in the darkest days of trial and diffi-\\nculty the Christian is better off than the man without\\nGod. He has his trials like other men, and God\\nsometimes seems to hide himself but to the man who\\nhas no God earth is always dumb, and there is no\\nmessage of inspiration anywhere at any time. Faber s\\nwords are graphic and paint a very realistic picture\\nOh, it is hard to work for God,\\nTo rise and take his part,\\nUpon this battlefield of earth,\\nAnd not sometimes lose heart.\\nHe hides himself so wondrously,\\nAs tho there were no God\\nHe is least seen when all the powers\\nOf ill are most abroad.\\nOr he deserts us at the hour\\nThe fight is all but lost\\n5", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0075.jp2"}, "76": {"fulltext": "66\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nAnd seems to leave us to ourselves\\nJust when we need him most.\\nYet there is less to try our faith\\nIn our mysterious creed,\\nThau in the Godless look of earth\\nIn these our hours of need.\\nA MONARCH HELD CAPTIVE.\\nSome interesting details in regard to the present\\ncondition of Samory, the dethroned African monarch,\\nhave been received by the French Minister of the\\nColonies. To outward seeming Samory is calm and\\ncontented, but at heart he is quite the reverse. He\\ncan not rid himself of the idea that he will be mur-\\ndered some day, and he has brooded so much over his\\ncoming doom that he recently made a determined\\neffort to commit suicide. Samory still retains with\\nhim a few pieces of his barbaric furniture, but all his\\ngold and silver treasure, which consists mainly of\\ngold rings and silver plate, has been confiscated by\\nthe French Government, and is to be sold. His sil-\\nver cuirass, however, a massive and unique work of\\nart, will be placed in the War Museum at Paris,\\nSamory, it is said, has grieved much over the loss of\\nthese treasures. Every sinner is a captive monarch\\nwho has lost the most precious treasures of the soul.\\nMan was made for high and lofty fellowship as the\\nson of God, and when he is taken captive by the devil\\nat his will and loses his kingly power over himself,\\nhe bids farewell to all true peace.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0076.jp2"}, "77": {"fulltext": "WIRELESS TELEGRAPHY. 67\\nINCARNATE LOVE,\\nChristianity is love incarnated in human life. No\\none has expressed it better, outside of the Bible, than\\nColeridge in these words from the Ancient Mariner 99\\nHe prayeth well who loveth well\\nBoth, man and bird and beast.\\nHe prayeth best who loveth best\\nAll things both great and small\\nFor the dear God, who loveth us,\\nHe made and loveth all.\\nWIRELESS TELEGRAPHY.\\nThe application of what is called wireless telegra-\\nphy to practical purposes has made great advance dur-\\ning the last few months, the British post-office having\\nerected experimental stations in The Solent, one at\\nBournemouth, and the other at Alum Bay, in the Isle\\nof Wight, a distance of four and a half miles. Across\\nthis distance, and even farther, signals have been sent\\nwith entire success, and communications, with equally\\nsatisfactory results, were made to a vessel cruising\\nabout in the open sea. Inside the transmitting- sta-\\ntion is a powerful induction-coil by means of which a\\nspark is passed between two balls. This spark fol-\\nlows a wire to the top of a mast a hundred feet high\\nor more, giving out electrical radiations which are\\ncaught by a corresponding upright wire on the ship at\\nsea, or on another receiving- station on land. The ex-\\nperiments so far completed show that no difficulty", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0077.jp2"}, "78": {"fulltext": "68\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nwhatever would be experienced in communicating\\nacross the air to a lighthouse or guardship where a\\nsubmarine cable would be destroyed. Wet or foggy\\nweather only improves the signals. That is like the\\ncommunication which God holds with the hearts of his\\npeople. To catch his signal our hearts must be in\\nsympathy with his, but when that is so, no fog-storm\\nof sorrow or trial can interfere with our reception of\\nthe heavenly message. Across the viewless air, where\\nno wire is visible to human eye, God can speak to the\\nheart that is sensitive to his presence.\\nFACING THE SPECTERS OF THE MIND.\\nAny man who will call to his help the divine fel-\\nlowship of Jesus Christ may face all the doubts and\\nspecters of his own mind and forever silence them, as\\ndid Tennyson s friend:\\nHe fought his doubts and gathered strength,\\nHe would not make his judgment blind,\\nHe faced the specters of the mind\\nAnd laid them thus he came at length\\nTo find a stronger faith his own\\nAnd Power was with him in the night,\\nWhich makes the darkness and the light,\\nAnd dwells not in the light alone,\\nBut in the darkness and the cloud\\nAs over Sinai s peaks of old,\\nWhile Israel made their gods of gold,\\nAltho the trumpet blew so loud.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0078.jp2"}, "79": {"fulltext": "COMFORT FOR THE CHRISTIAN WORKER. 69\\nMIRRORS AND MORALS,\\nAn old trapper who recently attended church in a\\nWestern city said he heard the preacher assert that\\nwhat the savage needed was a mirror that the savage\\nhas no mirror; but if he had, he would be more\\ncleanly. Commenting on it, the old backwoodsman\\nremarked that all our American savages pride them-\\nselves a great deal on their mirrors. He spent his\\nyouth among the Umatillas, Nez Perces, Snakes, and\\nBlackfeet, and, while they did not have full-length\\nmirrors in their wigwams, fully two thirds of the war-\\nriors had hand-mirrors tied to the horns of their sad-\\ndles by buckskin strings, and they used these mirrors\\ncontinually. The savages were proud of their own\\nugliness, which seemed to them to be beauty. And\\nso there are many men going on in sin to-day who\\nare proud of the very scars caused by their sins.\\nMorally they are ugly and loathsome, but they do not\\nknow it. It is only when you can bring a man face\\nto face with Jesus Christ, and he sees in the pure and\\nnoble Christ what manhood ought to be, that he gets\\na proper idea of the ugliness of his sins.\\nCOMFORT FOR THE CHRISTIAN WORKER.\\nIn The Last Walk in Autumn Whittier sings of\\nthe comfort which the Christian worker has in his\\nfaith that God will bring triumph to the cause for\\nwhich he struggles, and that he is not working in\\nvain, tho victory may not come in his time.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0079.jp2"}, "80": {"fulltext": "70\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nAnd I will trust that He who heeds\\nThe life that hides in mead and wold,\\nWho hangs yon alder s crimson beads,\\nAnd stains these mosses green and gold,\\nWill still, as He hath done, incline\\nHis gracious care to me and mine\\nGrant what we ask aright, from wrong debar,\\nAnd, as the earth grows dark, make brighter every star\\nI have not seen, I may not see,\\nMy hopes for man take form in fact,\\nBut God will give the victory\\nIn due time in that faith I act.\\nAnd he who sees the future sure,\\nThe baffling present may endure,\\nAnd bless, meanwhile, the unseen Hand that leads\\nThe heart s desire beyond the halting step of deeds.\\nCHOOSING DARKNESS.\\nA gentleman in one of the Southern States discov-\\nered a white owl s nest, which was in a hole of a lean-\\ning dead palm, overhanging the river. He watched\\nthe growth of the birds until he considered them old\\nenough to move. He then transferred them from the\\nnest to a box, and they became great pets. They\\nwere always timid, however, and desired to hide dur-\\ning the day. All day long they would sit quietly in\\nthe darkest place they could find, making no sound\\nexcept when approached, when a sharp snapping of\\ntheir beaks announced that they wished no intruders.\\nTo turn them out of their box in daytime meant a\\nquick return to it. At night, however, they were in\\ntheir element. When turned loose, they walked\\naround, flapped their wings, came up and took food", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0080.jp2"}, "81": {"fulltext": "WHEN WAR-DRUMS SHALL BE STILL. 71\\nfrom the hand, drank water from a spoon, and seemed\\nto be in the greatest spirits. Men with evil thoughts\\nand purposes are like these owls, in that they choose\\nthe darkness rather than the light, desiring to cover\\nup their evil ways. It is a great thing to so live, even\\nin the nesting-place of one s own imagination, that\\nthe sunshine is the natural and welcome atmosphere\\nof the soul.\\nHEROISM.\\nThat heroic character is not fed on sweets, but\\nrather on struggle and trial and heart-break, Emerson\\nemphasizes in his little poem, entitled Heroism\\nEuby wine is drunk by knaves.\\nSugar tends to fatten slaves,\\nRose and vine-leaf deck buffoons\\nThunder-clouds are Jove s festoons,\\nDrooping oft in wreaths of dread,\\nLightning-knotted, round his head\\nThe hero is not fed on sweets,\\nDaily his own heart he eats\\nChambers of the great are jails,\\nAnd head-winds right for royal sails.\\nWHEN WAR-DRUMS SHALL BE STILL.\\nA gentleman residing in Hartford, Conn., has in\\nhis possession a bass-drum with a very remarkable\\nhistory. The drum was made in Pittsfield, Mass., in\\n1836, and has been sounded on many important occa-\\nsions. It has taken part in the inauguration of Presi-\\ndents Van Buren, Harrison, Buchanan, Lincoln, Gar-", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0081.jp2"}, "82": {"fulltext": "72\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nfield, Cleveland, and Benjamin Harrison. It was\\nused at the reception of Kossuth, the reception to the\\nPrince of Wales, the opening of the Erie Canal, the\\nopening of the suspension bridge at Niagara Falls,\\nand at a serenade to Jenny Lind. It went to the\\nfront with the Seventy-first New York Regiment in\\n1861, and was present at the first battle of Bull Bun.\\nThere are two bullet-holes through the head of the\\ndrum as a mark of the battle. Some day the business\\nof the war-drum shall cease, and that inspiriting mu-\\nsical instrument shall no longer incite men to deeds of\\nblood, but shall inspire their hearts to heroic deeds in\\nbehalf of the sublimer victories of peace.\\nTHE IMPORTANCE OF TIME.\\nMany people live as tho they were to live for-\\never, or had so many lives on earth that they could\\nafford to throw one away. But that we have only\\none life here, and, therefore, every moment is of crit-\\nical importance, Bonar, the great hymn-writer, has\\nbeautifully expressed\\nNot many lives, but only one, have we,\\nOne, only one\\nHow sacred should that one life ever be,\\nThat narrow span.\\nDay after day filled up with blessed toil,\\nHour after hour still bringing in new spoil.\\nA MARK FOR THE ARCHERS.\\nThe military students of Tung-Chou, China, are\\nsaid to be a conspicuous nuisance. They have a way", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0082.jp2"}, "83": {"fulltext": "MORE COSTLY THAN GOLD. 73\\nof using the main streets in the city as convenient\\nspots for practising archery, and citizens need to be\\nconstantly on the alert to avoid nights of arrows.\\nPeople are often struck by arrows, and many are\\nseverely wounded through the arrogance and careless-\\nness of these military archers. Our own streets are\\nfull of hurtling arrows they fly from the saloon and\\nthe gambling-hell and the brothel. They come whir-\\nling from the liquor-store, where the archer has a gov-\\nernment license to shoot whom he will. No man is\\nsafe from these flying arrows of evil unless he is\\nequipped with the full armor of the Lord.\\nPRAYER WITHOUT WORKS.\\nWilhelm Muller has put the case of those who make\\nlong prayers and a great show of their religion, but\\nwho are never found at the front when there is good,\\nhard work to be done for the Lord s cause, in a very\\nunmistakable setting:\\nLazy at work, but zealous in praying\\nNo one to pump, but fine organ playing.\\nMORE COSTLY THAN GOLD.\\nThe expression worth their weight in gold is a\\nfamiliar one. It used to be an accepted fact that\\ngold was the most valuable of the precious metals,\\nbut now that has ceased to be true. There has re-\\ncently appeared, under warrant of the highest scien-\\ntific authority, a statement of values based upon the", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0083.jp2"}, "84": {"fulltext": "74\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\ncommercial prices of various rare metals. In this\\nstatement a pound avoirdupois of gold is put as worth\\n$300; but chromium is worth $490 a pound; palla-\\ndium, $560; uranium, $980, and osmium, $1,000.\\nBarium costs $1,900 a pound; rhodium, $2,500;\\narium, $3,600; indium, $4,400; thorium, $8,300,\\nand rubidium, $9,500. All these figures seem small,\\nhowever, when compared to the value of gallium,\\nwhich, according to the scientific standard, is worth\\n$68,000 a pound. So it is shown that even in the\\nmetallic world there are many things more precious\\nthan gold. In the intellectual and spiritual world\\nthere are a great many things that gold will not buy.\\nIt cannot purchase a good conscience, or contentment,\\nor any of those rare and beautiful virtues which are\\nto be found only in the treasure-house of the soul.\\nGold is a good servant, but a poor god.\\nMORAL CLIMBING,\\nBrowning believed that the certain evidence of\\nman s sonship to God was to be found in his capacity\\nfor moral progress. In his poem, A Death in the\\nDesert, he says:\\nMan\\nCreeps ever on from fancies to the fact,\\nAnd in this striving\\nFinds progress, man s distinctive mark alone\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nNot God s and not the beast s God is, they are,\\nMan partly is and wholly hopes to be.\\nGetting increase of knowledge, since he learns\\nBecause he lives, which is to be a man\\nSet to instruct himself by his past self.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0084.jp2"}, "85": {"fulltext": "SAVING OTHERS.\\n75\\nHONEST MONEY.\\nA bankrupt and disgraced promoter of fraudulent\\nschemes, during the days of his seeming prosperity\\nand while he was making lavish displays of great\\nwealth, presented the famous cathedral of St. Paul,\\nin London, with a communion service of solid gold\\nwhich cost $125,000. Since then it has come to be\\nknown that this man was a shameless fraud, and that\\nhis money was filched from his dupes by cunning\\nschemes. The trustees of the cathedral have, with\\na commendable sense of honor, returned to the scoun-\\ndrel s creditors the full cost of the communion service\\nreceived by them. In that way they have kept their\\nhands clean and stainless. It would hasten the com-\\ning of the reign of Christ on earth if every Christian\\nbusiness man would thus hold himself clear of every\\npossible connection with dishonest money.\\nSAVING OTHERS.\\nMatthew Arnold wrote of his father one of the\\nmost beautiful things that it is possible to say of any\\none that he had the power to save others. No man\\nhas lived in vain who can realize that such has been\\nthe truth concerning his career. Arnold sings\\nTo us thou wast still\\nCheerful and helpful and firm\\nTherefore to thee it was given\\nMany to save with thyself\\nAnd, at the end of thy day,", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0085.jp2"}, "86": {"fulltext": "76\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nO faithful shepherd, to come,\\nBringing thy sheep in thy hand.\\nAnd through thee I believe\\nIn the noble and great who are gone.\\nDROWNED IN SWEETS.\\nA man in Eastern Maine was busy boiling maple\\nsap in a great iron kettle not long ago, when lie\\nwas suddenly made aware of the approach of two\\nbears, who had been attracted by the fragrant smell\\nof the kettle of sweetness. The sugar-maker got his\\ngun and spent the entire afternoon and evening in pur-\\nsuit of the larger bear but it finally escaped him,\\nfinding refuge in a mountain cave. When he had\\ngone off after the bear, he had left a blazing fire under\\nthe huge kettle in which he boiled down his sap.\\nTired out from the hunt, he was late getting to work\\nthe next morning. Along in the middle of the fore-\\nnoon, when he came in from the woods with a pail of\\nsap, he looked into the kettle and saw something\\nwhich nearly took his breath away. On the snow\\nabout the fire-pit and daubed against the sides of the\\nkettle were shapeless masses of dirty maple sugar,\\nwhile inside the kettle, soldered and sealed fast in a\\nmatrix of sugar, was a dead bear cub, weighing nearly\\none hundred pounds. It had come up on the pole\\nabove the kettle, and while gorging itself with sweets\\nhad evidently slipped from the pole and been drowned\\nin the cooling syrup. Many men and women are\\ndrowned in the sweets of life. Men may be drowned\\nin pleasure as well as in gall and wormwood. Pleas-", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0086.jp2"}, "87": {"fulltext": "ELIJAH S WEAK SPOT.\\n77\\nure is a beautiful attendant, but a tyrannical master,\\nand when sought as the chief end of life, brings its\\nvotaries to destruction.\\nFALLING FACE FORWARD.\\nIt is better to keep one s face forward, even tho\\nwe can not see all that is before us. Tho we grope\\nblindly, if we still steadily climb upward and onward,\\nseeking to do God s will, we may be sure he will bring\\nus to our desired goal. There are times when the\\ngreatest souls pass through experiences like those about\\nwhich Tennyson writes\\nI falter where I firmly trod,\\nAnd falling with my weight of cares\\nUpon the great world s altar-stairs\\nThat slope through darkness up to God,\\nI stretch lame hands of faith, and grope,\\nAnd gather dust and chaff, and call\\nTo what I feel is Lord of all,\\nAnd faintly trust the larger hope.\\nELIJAH S WEAK SPOT.\\nAfter Elijah s victorious day on Mount Carmel, it\\nseems very strange to find him running from Jezebel\\nand crouching under a desert shrub wishing to die.\\nElijah s weak spot was his stomach. While Elijah\\nwas hungry and tired he was subject to the blues,\\nand a woman with a bad tongue in her head and a\\nvicious temper could make him run like a whipped", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0087.jp2"}, "88": {"fulltext": "78\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\ncur. The Lord knew this, and so he fed Elijah and\\ngave him a chance to rest, and then he was as good\\nas new. He went back again to make and unmake\\nkings with all the courage of other days. When you\\nare tempted to panic, find out where the weak spot is.\\nPerhaps you have malaria, or dyspepsia, or liver com-\\nplaint. Many a weak body has put to rout a strong\\nsoul. Be gentle to people tempted in that way as\\nGod is.\\nTHE WAGES OF SIN.\\nThat the wages of sin are terrible, even in this\\nworld, Lord Byron bears brilliant and awful testi-\\nmony. Describing the blackened ruin of a sinful\\nheart, he says\\nIt is as if the dead could feel\\nThe icy worm around them steal,\\nAnd shudder as the reptiles creep\\nTo revel o er their rotting sleep,\\nWithout the power to scare away\\nThe cold consumers of their clay.\\nTHE BUFFING- WHEEL.\\nThe metal-polishers of New York have recently\\ncalled attention to the unhealthy character of their\\nwork, in an appeal to Governor Boosevelt to enforce\\nthe law made for their protection. Most of the pol-\\nishers work is done by the aid of a buffing-wheel,\\nwhich revolves with great rapidity. The polisher\\ntakes from the floor, for instance, a large urn fash-\\nioned from sheets of hammered brass. The surface", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0088.jp2"}, "89": {"fulltext": "VANISHED DOUBTS.\\n79\\nis dull and rough. The workman presses the base\\nagainst this revolving wheel. At once there arises a\\nyellow shower mingling with the dirty white powder\\nand the floating shreds. This is what the metal -pol-\\nishers breathe earth, brass, and cloth. In many\\nplaces there is no fresh air and but little light.\\nLungs and eyes are soon destroyed in this whirlwind\\nof filth sent from the wheel making twenty-five hun-\\ndred revolutions a minute. The statutes require that\\nin each polishing lathe there shall be an exhaust-fan\\nto carry off the dust, that each operator shall have\\ntwo hundred and fifty square feet of air to breathe,\\nand enough daylight to see what he is doing. Life\\nis a bufhng- wheel to many of our fellow beings, and\\nit is the Christian s duty to do everything that he can\\nto bring light and atmosphere to bear, so that not\\nonly the body, but the soul, may have a chance to\\nbreathe and be strong.\\nVANISHED DOUBTS.\\nThe power of worship to banish and dissipate the\\ndoubts and fears that beset our minds and hearts is\\nbeautifully described by Longfellow\\nAnd when the solemn and deep church bell\\nEntreats the soul to pray,\\nThe midnight phantoms feel the spell,\\nThe shadows sweep away.\\nDown the broad Vale of Tears afar\\nThe spectral camp is fled\\nFaith shineth as a morning star,\\nOur ghastly fears are dead.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0089.jp2"}, "90": {"fulltext": "80\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nSEIZING OPPORTUNITY,\\nA plain wreath of oak leaves was sent through the\\nEnglish consul in Berlin in the hope that it might\\nfind a place on Mr Gladstone s coffin. The sender\\nwas a Berlin shoemaker who owed his success in busi-\\nness to the Grand Old Man. About twenty years\\nago this shoemaker came to London and established a\\nsmall workshop, but in spite of industry and strict\\nattention to business he continued so poor that he\\nhad not even enough money to buy leather for work\\nwhich had been ordered. One day he was in the\\nwhispering gallery in St. Paul s cathedral with his\\nbetrothed bride, to whom he confided the sad condi-\\ntion of his affairs, and the impossibility of their mar-\\nriage. The young girl gave him all her small sa-\\nvings, with which he went next day to purchase the\\nrequired leather, without, however, knowing that he\\nwas followed by a gentleman commissioned to make\\ninquiries about him. The shoemaker was not a little\\nsurprised when the leather merchant told him that he\\nwas willing to open a small account with him. In\\nthis way did fortune begin to smile upon him, and\\nsoon, to his great astonishment, he received orders\\nfrom the wealthiest circle in London society, and his\\nbusiness became so well established that he was able\\nto marry and have a comfortable home of his own.\\nHe was known in London for years as the Parlia-\\nment Shoemaker, but only when, to please his Ger-\\nman wife, he left London for Berlin, did the leather", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0090.jp2"}, "91": {"fulltext": "SHINING AND SERVICE.\\n81\\nmerchant tell him that he owed his credit account\\nto none other than Mr. Gladstone. The Prime Min-\\nister had been in the whispering gallery when the poor\\nshoemaker had been telling his betrothed of his pov-\\nerty, and owing to the peculiar acoustics of the gal-\\nlery had heard every word that had been said. This\\nstory suggests not only how Mr. Gladstone s wide-\\nreaching influence was helped by his seizing upon the\\nsmallest opportunities to do good, but also that the\\nhouse of God is always a whispering gallery and\\ntho no prime minister of earth may hear us as we\\nbreathe out our sorrows there, the Prime Minister of\\nheaven will never fail to hear and heed.\\nSELF-RELIANCE.\\nEvery man must finally depend on himself for the\\nbuilding of his career. There is a very important\\nsense in which Paul s words, Every man shall bear\\nhis own burden, are true. That an honorable or\\nfamous ancestry can be of no value to us unless we\\nhave first proved our own importance is very bril-\\nliantly set forth by Mtiller\\nAncestors are ciphers, which, to ciphers added, naught amount\\nSet an integer before them, and the ciphers all will count.\\nSHINING AND SERVICE.\\nOur new Hawaiian possessions bring to us two very\\ndistinguished volcanoes, Mauna Loa and Kilauea.\\nThey are often confounded, many persons supposing\\n6", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0091.jp2"}, "92": {"fulltext": "82\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nthat the two are names of the same mountain, or that\\none is a special name applied to the crater of the\\nother. As a matter of fact, the two are quite dis-\\ntinct, altho they are but sixteen miles apart, and are\\nprobably but different vents for the same internal fire.\\nKilauea is much lower than Mauna Loa the latter is\\none of the loftiest mountains on the globe, being over\\n14,000 feet above the level of the sea; while the\\nformer is scarcely 5,000 feet, and quite a distinct ele-\\nvation from the famous mountain which forms the\\nmost noted landmark in the world. Mauna Loa lifts\\nits head above the region of vegetation, and even\\nunder a tropical sun is covered with perpetual snow.\\nIts white top can be seen at sea a distance of one hun-\\ndred and fifty miles. Humboldt says that it is the\\nbest illustration in the world of the visibility of a\\nmountain. Kilauea, on the contrary, is merely a hill\\nby the side of Mauna Loa, but has a crater which for\\nsize exceeds anything of the kind elsewhere in the\\nworld. These two mountains are suggestive of Chris-\\ntian character in service. We are to let the light of\\nour Christian faith and conduct shine abroad like\\nMauna Loa, so that all may see, and bless God. On\\nthe other hand, it is often those who are lowly and\\nobscure in position, like Kilauea, who give forth the\\nlargest measure of devotion.\\nCORRUPT USE OF WEALTH.\\nIf Shakespeare were living now and writing of\\nAmerican politics, he would not need to change the", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0092.jp2"}, "93": {"fulltext": "SERVING GOD IN LITTLE THINGS. 83\\nwords set clown in the fourth act of Timon of\\nAthens.\\nWhat is here? Gold?\\nThis yellow slave\\nWill knit and break religions bless the accursed\\nMake the hoar leprosy adored place thieves,\\nAnd give them title, knee, and approbation,\\nWith senators on the bench.\\nSERVING GOD IN LITTLE THINGS.\\nThere was a man in London who had ventured upon\\nvarious publishing schemes with but poor success,\\nand was beginning to despair of ever making a for-\\ntune, when by chance he bethought himself of a huge\\nscrapbook which his wife had compiled of various\\nliterary odds and ends that had enchained her fancy.\\nShe called her scrapbook Tit-Bits, and it occurred\\nto her husband that such odds and ends, published in\\nperiodical form, might interest other people as well\\nas his wife. The result of this meditation on his part\\nwas the appearance of a little penny paper called Tit-\\nBits, which proved so popular and gained such a wide\\ncirculation that its proprietor is now a millionaire\\nmany times over, and a baronet, while his wife, whose\\nscrapbook proved the cornerstone of their prosperity,\\nfinds her reward in the title of Lady Newnes. There\\nare many of us who are willing to serve God in great\\nventures, and are ready to devote ourselves to some\\ngreat vow, who yet refuse to surrender to him in the\\nlittle things, the tit-bits of daily life. It would be\\nwell if we would turn our consecration around and be-", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0093.jp2"}, "94": {"fulltext": "84\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\ngin by giving the Lord the little things, and then the\\nlarger sacrifices wonld follow as a matter of course.\\nSURE FOUNDATIONS*\\nEmerson never wrote truer lines than these con-\\ncerning the foundations of the state and the nation\\nFear, Craft, and Avarice\\nCan not rear a State.\\nOut of dust to build\\nWhat is more than dust,\\nWhen the church is social worth,\\nWhen the state-house is the hearth,\\nThen the perfect State is come.\\nUNITED ENERGY.\\nA naturalist observed an encounter in the jungle of\\nTambak between a large python and some wild pigs.\\nA young pig had been seized by the monster serpent,\\nand its cries of distress summoned about twenty of\\nthe herd to an attack. They gored the python sav-\\nagely with their tusks and succeeded in so harassing\\nand lacerating it that it was forced to relinquish its\\nprey, and was afterward killed by the naturalist.\\nEnergy and unity of purpose among the weakest group\\nof God s people are more than a match for the old ser-\\npent of evil who will seek to hinder them or destroy\\nsome member of their flock. A united church ani-\\nmated by earnest purpose can work miracles now in\\nthe overcoming of evil and in the capturing of any\\ncommunity for Christ.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0094.jp2"}, "95": {"fulltext": "THE YOUTH OF THE SOUL.\\n85\\nWISER BEING GOOD THAN BAD.\\nEobert Browning is the poet of courage and hope\\nand strength. He believed that seeming failure was\\nonly apparent failure after all, and that in the end\\nGod would justify himself\\nIt s wiser being good than bad,\\nIt s safer being meek than fierce,\\nIt s fitter being sane than mad.\\nMy own hope is a sun will pierce\\nThe thickest cloud earth ever stretched,\\nThat after Last, returns the First\\nThat which began best can t end worst,\\nNor what God blest once prove accurst.\\nRELATION BETWEEN CHARACTER AND LIFE*\\nThere was a time when the steel of Toledo, in\\nSpain, was the most famous in all the earth, and To-\\nledo swords were sought after by the swordsmen of\\nall lands. Now, however, both iron and steel are im-\\nported from abroad, and the manufacture has sunk\\nbelow the average mediocrity of Europe. This is as\\nstriking an evidence as any of the universal decadence\\nof Spain, for the famous weapons of Toledo attracted\\nattention in song as far back as the days of the Ro-\\nmans. If character depreciates, conduct will very\\nsoon show it.\\nTHE YOUTH OF THE SOUL.\\nThat the soul may remain young and strong, retain-\\ning its courage, when, as Paul says, the earthly", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0095.jp2"}, "96": {"fulltext": "86\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nhouse of this tabernacle is falling to pieces, is\\nstrongly illustrated in Elizabeth Barrett Browning s\\npoem, entitled A Rhapsody of Life s Progress\\nI am strong in the spirit deep-thoughted, clear-eyed,\\nI could walk, step for step, with an angel beside,\\nOn the heaven-heights of Truth\\nOh, the soul keeps its youth\\nBut the body faints sore, it is tired in the race,\\nIt sinks from the chariot ere reaching the goal\\nIt is weak, it is cold,\\nThe rein drops from its hold\\nIt sinks back with death in its face.\\nOn, chariot on, soul\\nYe are all the more fleet\\nBe alone at the goal\\nOf the strange and the sweet\\nTHE KEYNOTE OF LIFE,\\nAn ingenious inventor claims to have discovered\\nthat each individual has a key or tone which must\\nharmonize with those of the people around him in\\norder to insure a peaceful and happy life. Another\\ngentleman, commenting on this, declares that it is not\\na new discovery, but that in teaching music he has\\nfor many years ascertained the individual key of each\\npupil before giving him his first lesson. This man\\nclaims that human beings are individualized or made\\nknown to each other by the pitch of their voices, and\\nthat the disposition of an individual is indicated by\\nthe key-tone of the voice, just the same as the tone\\nof an E-fLat cornet or any other musical instrument\\nwith which the sound is produced. He says that per-", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0096.jp2"}, "97": {"fulltext": "WAYSIDE CACHES.\\n87\\nsons whose voices are pitched in the key of C are\\nof a social nature, and their whole make-up is amiable.\\nD Toices indicate hopefulness and cheerfulness;\\nE 99 indicates a sanguine temperament. Those\\nwhose voices are pitched in F 99 are earnest and sin-\\ncere those in G- 99 are egotistical and domineering\\nthose in A 99 are fretful, nervous, and pathetic, while\\nthose in B 99 are timid and apprehensive, and lack\\nconfidence and self-control. Whatever truth there\\nmay be or lack of it in this analysis, there can be\\nno doubt that the keynote of a Christian life is love.\\nThe life is pitched in that tone, and any other pitch\\nwill bring discord. If you have started the tune of\\nlife at any other pitch, stop and start in again at once\\non the Christ-key.\\nTHE ALL-SEEING CHRIST.\\nThere is an old hymn which brings out clearly and\\nwith beautiful imagery the fact that Christ sees deep\\ninto our hearts, knows all our thoughts and purposes,\\nand is able to be to us the great Physician of souls\\nWhat in the heart lies deepest ever,\\nUnbreathed by mortal lip abroad,\\nAnd heard by ear of mortal never,\\nTakes voice before the throne of God\\nThe silence of our spirit tells\\nIts tale aloud where Jesus dwells.\\nWAYSIDE CACHES.\\nA curious account is given by a Mr. Grose, who\\nhas just returned from a tour of exploration in the", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0097.jp2"}, "98": {"fulltext": "88\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nCanadian Northwest, concerning the law of cache. A\\nman going along wishes to leave, say, his coat behind,\\nfor reasons of personal comfort. He hangs it on a\\ntree, and it will be there for him if he does not return\\nfor a week. Similarly the ownership of a suspended\\ngun or rifle is respected. Mr. Grose says that a man\\nwould be safe in hanging his gold watch and chain\\non a tree with the assurance that it would be there\\nwhen he returned to claim it. A cache of provisions\\nis subject to a slight modification in respect to the\\nrule of inviolability. A hungry Indian discovering\\nsuch will make a fire in front of it, to make it appa-\\nrent that there is no secrecy intended in connection\\nwith his visit. He will then take from the cache suffi-\\ncient food for his immediate needs and pass on, with-\\nout touching anything more. It seems to me that all\\nthe natural wealth of the world, such as the veins of\\ngold and silver, and the fertile soil that will produce\\nwheat and corn, or the grass to fatten flock and herds,\\nare caches which God has stored away. A man has a\\nright to take what he can use, but all beyond that he\\nholds as a trustee, for the benefit of his weaker breth-\\nren. This is surely the Christian standpoint. How\\nhappy all the world would be if all enacted from this\\nstandpoint and lived in harmony with it!\\nTHE HELPFULNESS OF LITTLE THINGS.\\nNo one can measure the happiness that comes from\\nlittle deeds of kindness and mercy. Henry Van Dyke\\nsings the truth with great clearness", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0098.jp2"}, "99": {"fulltext": "A CAUSE OF DOMESTIC SORROW. 89\\nOnly a little shriveled seed\\nIt might be a flower or grass or weed\\nOnly a box of earth on the edge\\nOf a narrow, dusty window-ledge\\nOnly a few scant summer showers\\nOnly a few clear, shining hours.\\nThat was all. Yet God could make\\nOut of these, for a sick child s sake,\\nA blossom-wonder as fair and sweet\\nAs ever broke at an angel s feet.\\nOnly a life of barren pain,\\nWet with sorrowful tears for rain\\nWarmed sometimes by a wandering gleam\\nOf joy that seemed but a happy dream.\\nA life as common and brown and bare\\nAs the box of earth in the window there\\nYet it bore at last the precious bloom\\nOf a perfect soul in a narrow room\\nPure as the snowy leaves that fold\\nOver the flower s heart of gold.\\nA PROLIFIC CAUSE OF DOMESTIC SORROW.\\nA Washington bird-merchant tells a suggestive\\nstory to illustrate the wavering course of young love s\\nfitful fever. Something over a year ago a fashion-\\nable young diplomat, wearing a trim little white top-\\ncoat over his dress-suit, came rushing into the store\\none night and asked to see the canaries. Iweesh\\nyou would be so verra kind to show me ze canary ze\\nverra fines you haf. A number of the little wooden\\ncages were set out before him, and he looked at bird\\nafter bird, but did not seem to find just what he\\nwanted. I vill tell you why I want ze canary, he", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0099.jp2"}, "100": {"fulltext": "90\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nsaid at length. I haf met a verra lofly young lady.\\nShe ees beautiful. She ees verra fine. I vill gif her\\nze canary ze verra fines you haf. How much ees\\nzat canary? The price of that canary, said the\\nmerchant, is five dollars. Oh, zat ees not enough\\nI want ze verra fines canary you haf. The dealer\\nwent again to the shelf where he kept his stock of\\nyellow songsters and brought out a bird, the price of\\nwhich on ordinary occasions was the same as that of\\nthe rest. He would have been glad any time to get a\\nfive-dollar bill for him. There, he said, is an\\nexceptionally good singer. That is a trained bird.\\nThe price is fifteen dollars. Oh, zat ees ze bird!\\nNow ze cage. He bought a ten-dollar cage, and,\\nleaving directions where the bird and the cage were\\nto be sent, rushed out as fast as he came, evidently\\nthoroughly satisfied with his purchase. A few days\\nago the same young man came into the store and again\\nasked for a canary. The dealer s eye snapped. He\\nsaw another chance to sell a fifteen-dollar bird in a\\nten-dollar cage. He briskly set out the finest canaries\\nhe had, and gave stiff prices on them but the diplo-\\nmat did not warm up at all. He shrugged his shoul-\\nders and kept saying Too much Too much\\nFinally he threw up his hands and expostulated Ze\\nprice ees too high. Haf you a cheaper bird? Zis\\ncanary ees not for a beautiful young lady. I am mar-\\nried now, and a three-dollar bird will do. Perhaps\\nthere is something suggestive in that as to the possi-\\nble cause of domestic sorrow in many families. The\\nsame spirit that was manifested before marriage,", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0100.jp2"}, "101": {"fulltext": "GOLD IN A HONEY-TREE.\\n91\\nwhich, seeks to give the best to the loved ones, might\\nretain the delight of companionship which was real-\\nized then.\\nFINDING GOD THROUGH MAN.\\nJames Russell Lowell, speaking of what the poet\\nought to be in the future, gives a description that\\ncould with little change apply for what every Chris-\\ntian ought to be for surely every disciple of Jesus\\nshould be one\\nWho feels that God and heaven s great deeps are nearer\\nHim to whose heart his fellow man is nigh,\\nWho doth not hold his soul s own freedom dearer\\nThan that of all his brethren low or high\\nWho to the right can feel himself the truer\\nFor being gently patient with the wrong,\\nWho sees a brother in the evil-doer,\\nAnd finds in Love the heart s-blood of his song.\\nGOLD IN A HONEY-TREE.\\nSome boys in the Tennessee mountains discovered\\na bee-tree. The bees had selected a big hollow limb\\nof an oak-tree for their hive. The boys set to work\\nand cut down the tree, tho it was a task of many\\nhours. They were, however, well repaid, for after\\nthey had filled themselves with the honey and had\\ntaken out several buckets of the delicious food they\\nsaw some shining object still farther down in the tree,\\nwhich they found to be a pot with $2,000 in gold in\\nit. It is supposed that the money was hidden there\\nduring the Civil War. There is always gold in sweet-", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0101.jp2"}, "102": {"fulltext": "92\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nness. The sweet spirit that distils honey and not vine-\\ngar out of all the common flowers of daily life is sure\\nto treasure up the gold which can never perish.\\nMAN S COMMON INHERITANCE,\\nHe has lived narrowly indeed who has not learned\\nthat in the great important things wealth and position\\nmake little or no difference among men. Men who\\nhave lived widely have found what Wordsworth writes\\nto be true\\nLove had he found in huts where poor men lie\\nHis daily teachers had been woods and rills,\\nThe silence that is in the starry sky,\\nThe sheep that roam among the lonely hills.\\nTHE PROTECTION OF DUTY.\\nIn China carrier-pigeons are protected from birds\\nof prey by an ingenious little apparatus consisting of\\nthin bamboo tubes fastened to the birds bodies with\\nthreads passed beneath the wings. As the pigeon flies\\nalong, the action of the air passing through the tubes\\nproduces a shrill whistling sound, which keeps birds\\nof prey at a respectful distance. People who go\\nstraight ahead and do their duty are armed and pro-\\ntected by the divine promise. A man at his duty\\nmay be sure that G-od will take care of him, and the\\nbirds of prey will not be allowed to accomplish his\\noverthrow.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0102.jp2"}, "103": {"fulltext": "BEWARE OF LITTLE SINS. 93\\nA CHARMING DEVIL.\\nPaul says that Satan himself is sometimes trans-\\nformed into an angel of light and indeed he is never\\nso dangerous as when he thus makes himself attract-\\nive. Shakespeare had the same thing in mind when\\nhe said, in the second act of Othello\\nWhen devils will their blackest sins put on,\\nThey do suggest at first with heavenly shows.\\nBEWARE OF LITTLE SINS.\\nA naturalist recently said to a newspaper man:\\nHere s a hatching of eggs that you wouldn t care to\\ninvest in. In the glass-covered box at which they\\nwere looking were eighteen or twenty little snakes\\nwith triangular heads and gray-tinted bodies marked\\nwith black. Each was about as long and large around\\nas a lead pencil, and they lay about in all sorts of\\ncurves and writhings among a lot of what looked like\\nthe broken shells of pigeon s eggs. They are young\\nrattlesnakes, continued the naturalist. Now ob-\\nserve how these little fellows, the oldest not twenty-\\nfour hours in age, show every trait of the parents,\\nThe naturalist lifted the glass cover slightly from the\\nbox and pushed the end of a long feather among the\\nsnakes. At once the nearer ones coiled precisely as\\na grown rattlesnake would have done, and each as the\\nfeather was pushed within striking distance darted\\nviciously at it with jaws widely open, showing the\\nsharp, tiny fangs. One of the snakes, so recently", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0103.jp2"}, "104": {"fulltext": "94\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nemerged from the egg that part of the shell adhered\\nto him, coiled and struck as fiercely as the others.\\nThey are born with all their power of mischief, and\\nthe knowledge of how to use it, complete, the natu-\\nralist went on to say. The bite of one of these baby\\nsnakes would poison you the same as the bite of an\\nadult snake would. The difference would be in the\\namount of poison injected. Sin is like that. This\\nmakes the tragedy of little sins. The deadly poison\\nof sin is in them all and tho the deed seem insig-\\nnificant, if there is in it the spirit of rebellion against\\nGod, or refusal to do his will, it will poison the\\nwhole nature.\\nTHE BLESSINGS OF UNSELFISHNESS.\\nThe reflex blessing which comes back upon the ear-\\nnest soul from deeds unselfishly wrought for the good\\nof others is never more clearly or beautifully stated\\nthan by Whittier\\nYet who, thus looking backward o er his years,\\nFeels not his eyelids wet with grateful tears\\nIf he hath been\\nPermitted, weak and sinful as he was,\\nTo cheer and aid in some ennobling cause\\nHis fellow men\\nIf he hath hidden the outcast, or let in\\nA ray of sunshine in the cell of sin j\\nIf he hath lent\\nStrength to the weak, or in his hour of need,\\nOver the suffering, mindless of his creed\\nOr home, hath bent", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0104.jp2"}, "105": {"fulltext": "MISSIONARIES AND BEAVER-DAMS. 95\\nHe hath not lived in vain, and while he gives\\nThe praise to Him in whom he moves and lives,\\nWith thankful heart\\nHe gazes backward, and with hope before,\\nKnowing that from his works he nevermore\\nCan thenceforth part.\\nMISSIONARIES AND BEAVER-DAMS.\\nIn Montana the cattlemen are great friends of the\\nbeaver.- Any intelligent cattleman in Montana would\\ngive the best steer in his herd to save the life of a\\nbeaver because the beaver is a dam-builder. Water\\nis a constant necessity on the cattle -trails, in the dry\\nclimate of Montana especially, where the streams and\\nwater-holes are few and far between. There were\\nmore beavers in Montana, and there are yet, perhaps,\\nthan anywhere else in the United States. By build-\\ning their dams wherever they may, they cause the\\nwater-supply to be hoarded as it can be in no other\\nway. And so it happens that while any other game\\nor fur-bearing animal may be exterminated without a\\ndissenting voice from them, the beaver is assured of\\nthe friendship and protection of the ranchmen. In\\nthe higher sense the influence of a Christian church in\\na community is similar to that of the work of a\\nbeaver. It conserves the good influences, the noble\\nimpulses, and the highest longings of the community\\nin its thought toward God. I knew an old farmer in\\nSouthern Oregon who was not a Christian, and claimed\\nto be an infidel, who paid a large sum every year to\\nkeep up preaching in the community, because he said", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0105.jp2"}, "106": {"fulltext": "96 POETRY AND MORALS.\\nit was cheaper than to hire more men to protect his\\nstock and property. Every church is a reservoir of\\nthe Water of Life.\\nTRUE CULTURE.\\nNo one has written more suggestively of the breadth\\nof true culture and the uselessness of artificial culture\\nthan Emerson in this brief little poem\\nCan rules or tutors educate\\nThe semigod whom we awake?\\nHe must be musical,\\nTremulous, impressional,\\nAlive to gentle influence\\nOf landscape and of sky,\\nAnd tender to the spirit touch\\nOf man s or maiden s eye\\nBut, to his native center fast,\\nShall into Future fuse the Past,\\nAnd the world s flowing fates in his own mold recast.\\nFINDING THE LOST.\\nMr. Bertrand and his son, living near Hull, in the\\nProvince of Quebec, went out fishing on some large\\nlog-booms in the river. After some time the boy fell\\nasleep on the logs. He dreamed that his father was\\ndrowning. He woke up and found out that his father\\nhad, in fact, disappeared. In despair he ran home to\\ntell his mother the awful news. He also told the\\npeople on the road that his father was drowned.\\nMrs. Bertrand was almost frenzied, and soon crowds", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0106.jp2"}, "107": {"fulltext": "SMILES AND FROWNS.\\n97\\nof men gathered to go in search of the body. But\\nthe father was not drowned. He had walked ashore\\non the logs. When he returned, not finding his son\\nwhere he had left him, he conjectured that he was\\ndrowned. After calling the boy repeatedly, he started\\nhome. When near Hull, he met a party, headed by\\nhis crying son, and carrying grappling-irons, lanterns,\\nand ropes, to search for his body. The joy was in-\\ntense when the two met. There are many really lost\\nones in a spiritual way, and the joy in family rela-\\ntions when they are brought back to home and spiri-\\ntual reunion is often the gladdest joy one ever wit-\\nnesses.\\nSMILES AND FROWNS.\\nMany of us would like to do what some one has\\nsuggested in these four little verses, but the only way\\nto realize it is to transform the heart which is back of\\nthe smile or the frown\\nIf I knew the box where the smiles are kept,\\nNo matter how large the key\\nOr strong the bolt, I would try so hard\\nTwould open, I know, for me.\\nThen over the land and sea broadcast\\nI d scatter the smiles to play,\\nThat the children s faces might hold them fast\\nFor many and many a day.\\nIf I knew a box that was large enough\\nTo hold all the frowns I meet,\\nI would try to gather them, every one,\\nFrom nursery, school, and street.\\n7", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0107.jp2"}, "108": {"fulltext": "98\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nThen, folding and holding, I d pack them in\\nAnd turn the monster key\\nI d hire a giant to drop the box\\nTo the depths of the deep, deep sea.\\nA FOG-DISPELLER.\\nA recent invention is a fog-dispeller. The appa-\\nratus consists of a horizontal outlook-pipe, eight feet\\nin length and eight inches in diameter. At the\\nmouth of the tube is a wide flange the rear end is\\ncovered with a thick disk of glass. About two feet\\nfrom the rear end a pipe enters the tube from below,\\nat an obtuse angle with the forward section. This\\nconnection is made to a sort of turn-table, which per-\\nmits the outlook tube to be pointed in any desired\\ndirection, up or down, from one side to the other.\\nThe pipe below connects with a blower down in the\\nvessel. When the dispeller is in use, the blower\\nsends a powerful stream of air up through the pipe\\ninto the tube, and the current hurtles into the fog,\\nboring a hole through it, as it were. The action of\\nthe suspended moisture is twofold. The fog rolls\\nback in every direction, the high pressure of the glass\\nproduces a cooling influence, the moisture in suspen-\\nsion condenses and falls in rain. A great cone of\\nclear atmosphere, with its apex at the mouth of the\\ntube, results. The eye of the pilot is at the glass at\\nthe rear of the tube, and he gazes into the bowels of\\nthe fog. With its aid a pilot can readily pick up his\\nbuoys in a fog and keep an eye out for vessels ahead.\\nWith a powerful blower the inventor hopes to make", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0108.jp2"}, "109": {"fulltext": "FREEDOM OF THE SOUL.\\n99\\nthe fog-dispeller useful at a thousand feet. Every\\nChristian ought to be a fog-dispeller. The earnest-\\nness of his purpose, the sure reliance of his faith in\\nGod, and the hopefulness of his soul born of fellow-\\nship with Christ, ought to surround him with such an\\natmosphere of good cheer and courage that the foggi-\\nest day of human trial would be illumined at his ap-\\nproach.\\nFREEDOM OF THE SOUL.\\nCircumstances may oftentimes confine the opera-\\ntions of our bodies within very narrow limits, and we\\nmay frequently be constrained to say with Paul, in\\napology, Eemember my bonds but no Roman em-\\nperor had the power to chain or imprison Paul s soul,\\nand Madame Guyon found the same power, to fly be-\\nyond all prison walls, which belongs to every sincere\\nChristian.\\nMy cage confines me round,\\nAbroad I can not fly\\nBut tho my wing is closely bound,\\nMy heart s at liberty.\\nMy prison walls can not control\\nThe flight, the freedom, of the soul.\\nOh it is good to soar\\nThese bolts and bars above,\\nTo Thee whose purpose I adore,\\nWhose providence I love\\nAnd in thy mighty will to find\\nThe joy, the freedom, of the mind.\\nLite.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0109.jp2"}, "110": {"fulltext": "100\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nMOUNTAIN-DWELLERS.\\nThe splendid physical condition of the regiments\\nrecruited in the Bocky-Mountain region, and from\\nthe plains lying at their base, is a frequent subject of\\nremark among the Western papers. The dwellers in\\nthese regions are from the same stock as their East-\\nern fellow countrymen. Many of them, indeed, are\\nnatives of the East. But the magnificent climate of\\nthe mountains and the simple open-air life of the in-\\nhabitants does its work even for those born elsewhere.\\nIn the medical examination these men made a better\\nrecord than any other volunteers in the United States.\\nFresh from the mountain regions of Montana, where\\nin the mines they have exercised and developed every\\nmuscle, the mountain troops are of really herculean\\nsize. To produce great manhood and womanhood,\\nyou must have a wide horizon, a pure atmosphere,\\nand abundant room to turn around, and breathe, and\\nbe free. The greatest spiritual manhood can never\\nbe developed in a worldly atmosphere. The discon-\\ntent and peevishness which sometimes end in despair\\nand suicide among the most successful people, in\\npurely worldly circles, arise from the fact that the\\nmental and moral atmosphere they breathe is too\\nsmotheringly close to allow the heart and soul to have\\na fair chance to expand. There are mountains of spir-\\nitual height on which those roam who give themselves\\nup to high things. It is glorious to live on the high-\\nlands of the soul. The air is not only pure there,", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0110.jp2"}, "111": {"fulltext": "PERSEVERANCE AND CHEERFULNESS. 101\\nbut God feeds these mountain-climbers on honey hid-\\nden among the lofty rocks.\\nAT OUR BEST.\\nOne of Dickens s characters begs his friend, when\\nhe is going away, that he will always remember him\\nwhen he is at his best. Humanity is never at its best\\nexcept when breathing the atmosphere of sympathy\\nand love. This is peculiarly true of the home life.\\nClara W. Bronson in a little poem brings it out very\\nclearly as to the woman s side of the home:\\nHave you ever noticed the change it makes\\nIn a woman s face\\nAnd her heart and her life, that were cold and dull\\nAnd slightly inclined to commonplace,\\nWhen Love shines on them? How there breaks\\nOver her nature a wave of gold,\\nBringing out beauty unknown before,\\nMellowing, widening more and more,\\nLifting her up till her eyes behold\\nEver new blooms for her hands to cull,\\nSo she and her life grow beautiful?\\nOh, there s never a woman, east or west,\\nBut must live in Love s sunshine to live her best\\nPERSEVERANCE AND CHEERFULNESS.\\nThe snake-bird is an interesting inhabitant of the\\ncypress swamps of the south. It is very watchful\\nand cautious, and when at rest which the bird never\\nis except on the branch of a tree that overhangs\\nthe water it always stands erect, with wings spread", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0111.jp2"}, "112": {"fulltext": "102\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nout, and jerks its long neck nervously backward and\\nforward, while its keen, bright eyes glance in every\\ndirection, ready to detect the slightest sign of danger.\\nAlarmed, down the bird will drop into the water so\\nnoiselessly and deftly that no splash succeeds the\\nplunge, and scarcely a ripple marks the spot of its\\ndisappearance. For a minute the bird is gone, and\\nthen its head will be seen coming slowly and warily\\nout of the water, scarcely a span away from the spot\\nwhere it went down. If the glance it casts around\\nin its quick way satisfies it that the danger is past, its\\nlong neck appears upon the water and the bird swims\\ntoward the shore. The movements of the slender\\nneck in the water as the bird swims, no other part of\\nits body being visible, so closely resemble the action\\nof a snake swimming that a stranger to the cypress\\nswamps would surely fancy that it was indeed a snake\\nmaking for a landing. This is why this curious deni-\\nzen of the cypress solitudes is called the snake-bird.\\nIf one of these birds has been shot at and wounded\\nas it sits upon the bough, it will make its noiseless\\ndive into the pool, and, altho the wound may not\\nhave been in itself fatal, the bird will never volunta-\\nrily appear above the water again. It will go to the\\nbottom and clutch the weeds there with its bill and\\nfeet and deliberately drown itself. Some people are\\nthat way about the discouragements of life. When\\nwounded or hurt, instead of rallying their courage\\nagain, and going forth to overcome difficulties, they\\ngive up in despair. Pluck and perseverance and good\\ncheer are necessary to great achievements.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0112.jp2"}, "113": {"fulltext": "FRUITS OF CONVERSION. 10S\\nCHRIST S FELLOWSHIP.\\nUhland, the German lyric poet, has written very\\nbeautifully of the comfort of knowing Christ in the\\nfellowship of suffering and sympathy as a prelude to\\nfellowship with him in heaven forever\\nThere is a land where beauty can not fade,\\nNor sorrow dim the eye\\nWhere true love shall not droop nor be dismayed,\\nAnd none shall ever die\\nWhere is that land, oh, where?\\nFor I would hasten there\\nTell me, I fain would go,\\nFriend, thou must trust in Him who trod before\\nThe desolate paths of life\\nMust bear in meekness as he meekly bore,\\nSorrow, and pain, and strife\\nThink how the Son of God\\nThese thorny paths hath trod\\nThink how he longed to go,\\nYet tarried out for thee the appointed wo\\nThink of his weariness in places dim,\\nWhen no man comforted or cared for him\\nThink of the bloodlike sweat\\nWith which his brow was wet,\\nYet how he prayed, unaided and alone,\\nIn that great agony, Thy will be done\\nFriend, do not thou despair\\nChrist from his heaven of heavens will hear thy prayer.\\nFRUITS OF COrWERSION.\\nIn the case of the jailer at Philippi one sees very\\nclearly the fruits of a genuine conversion in the soul", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0113.jp2"}, "114": {"fulltext": "104\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nworking out in the life and conduct. He was entirely-\\nindifferent to the sufferings of Paul and Silas until\\nafter the marvelous event that brought him face to\\nface with his own conscience, and suddenly brought\\nhim to faith in Christ. Immediately his whole thought\\ntoward his prisoners changed. He became solicitous\\nfor their welfare. Their hunger is now a matter\\nof importance to him, and he can not do enough\\nfor these men of God who have brought him the\\ngood news of salvation. Like fruits are certain to\\nfollow every sincere conversion to Christ. A re-\\nligion that does Dot get into the habits of daily\\nlife in our treatment of our fellow men is not deep\\nenough to take account of.\\nTHE GROWTH OF CHARACTER,\\nDr. Gannett, meditating on Christ s words, Con-\\nsider the lilies, how they grow, sings beautifully of\\nthe growth of Christlike character among men\\nO Toiler of the lily,\\nThy touch is in the man\\nNo leaf that dawns to petal\\nBut hints the angel-plan.\\nThe flower-horizon opens\\nThe blossom vaster shows\\nWe hear Thy wide world s echo,\\nSee how the lily grows.\\nShy yearnings of the savage.\\nUnfolding thought by thought\\nTo holy lives are lifted,\\nTo visions fair are wrought", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0114.jp2"}, "115": {"fulltext": "LI HUNG CHANG AND THE BIBLE. 105\\nThe races rise and cluster,\\nTransfigurations fall,\\nMan s chaos blooms to beauty,\\nThy purpose crowning all\\nLI HUNG CHANG AND THE BIBLE.\\nDr. Coltman, a medical missionary who is the phy-\\nsician to Li Hung Chang, came upon the celebrated\\nChinaman one day when he was deeply interested in\\nreading the Bible. He raised his eyes and gazed at\\nDr. Coltman with a piercing look and said Dr. Colt-\\nman, do you believe this book? The answer was\\nYour Excellency, if I did not believe it, I should\\nnot have the honor of being your physician. I be-\\nlieve it with my whole heart. Are you sure that\\nthis is not all hearsa.v and uman talk? he asked\\nagain. Quite sure. Row do you know it? he\\nwent on. By a sign that the book itself mentions.\\nIs it not written that a bad tree can bring forth no\\ngood fruit, and a good tree no bad fruit? Your Ex-\\ncellency has already admitted that the condition of\\nthe people in Western lands is far better than in the\\nOrient and I can assure you that the prosperity and\\nhappiness of the various nations that you have re-\\ncently visited correspond exactly to the degree in\\nwhich they follow the precepts of this book. Would\\nGod your Excellency believed it too. Here the\\nviceroy was interrupted by important news but when\\nhis servant took his Bible from his hands to carry it\\nto his bookcase, he said; Don t put it in the book-\\ncase lay it on the table in my bedroom. I want to", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0115.jp2"}, "116": {"fulltext": "106\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nlook at it again. There is that about the Bible which\\nappeals to the vein of simplicity and straightforward-\\nness which runs through all great natures.\\nWICKED EXCUSES.\\nThe best thing any man can do when he has done\\nwrong is frankly to confess it, and in humble repent-\\nance ask for forgiveness. The excuses for sin are oft-\\ntimes blacker sins than the original wrongdoing.\\nShakespeare well expresses this in these lines from\\nthe fourth act of King John\\nOftentimes excusing of a fault\\nDoth make the fault the worse by the excuse,\\nAs patches set upon a little breach\\nDiscredit more in hiding of the fault\\nThan did the fault before it was so patched.\\nTHE POWER OF THE BIBLE.\\nPaul uses a very graphic illustration of the pene-\\ntrating force of the Word of God when in his letter to\\nthe Hebrews he says For the Word of God is living,\\nand active, and sharper than any two-edged sword,\\nand piercing even to the dividing of soul and spirit,\\nof both joints and marrow, and quick to discern the\\nthoughts and intents of the heart. The Bible has\\nthis power wherever men read it, in all climes and\\nunder all types of heathen life. It has the power to\\nuncover the human heart to itself, and whenever the\\nheart beholds its own sinfulness it instinctively cries\\nout for God.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0116.jp2"}, "117": {"fulltext": "THE GIVE AND TAKE OF HOME LIFE. 107\\nTHE CHRISTIAN S GUIDE-BOOK.\\nAlice Cary sings of the traveler who put the Book\\nof books into the hand of one perplexed about the\\npath\\nAnd when the old man saw where lay\\nThe traveler s choice, he said, I pray,\\nTake this to help you on the way\\nAnd gave to him a lovely Book,\\nWherein for guidance he must look,\\nHe told him, if the paths should crook.\\nAnd so through labyrinths of shade,\\nWhen terror pressed, or doubt dismayed,\\nHe walked in armor all arrayed.\\nSo, over pitfalls traveled he,\\nAnd passed the gates of harlotry,\\nSafe with his heavenly company.\\nAnd when the road did low descend\\nHe found a good inn, and a friend,\\nAnd made a comfortable end.\\nTHE GIVE AND TAKE OF HOME LIFE.\\nCooperation in this world is always bought at the\\nprice of compromise. If any one is determined to\\nhave his own way in everything, then he ought to\\nlive the life of a hermit for whenever he comes into\\npartnership with somebody else, he has to give up\\nhaving his way half the time. Robinson Crusoe was\\nmonarch of all he surveyed so long as he was alone\\non his island, but the instant he saw Friday s track", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0117.jp2"}, "118": {"fulltext": "108\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nin the sand all his circle of privileges was divided by\\ntwo The home is a little circle, made little purposely\\nso that the people in it may know each other well and\\nhelp each other much. The cooperation in the home\\ncan not be happy and useful unless the spirit of the\\nhome life is full of mutual forbearance.\\nFIRESIDE WORSHIP*\\nNothing so exalts family life as simple, unaffected,\\ngenuine family worship. It brings all the dignity\\nand glory of the skies into the midst of the prosaic\\nduties of daily living. James T. Fields, in his beau-\\ntiful fireside hymn, suggests the inspiration and up-\\nlift of such worship\\nHither, bright angels, wing your flight,\\nAnd stay your gentle presence here\\nWatch round, and shield us through the night,\\nThat every shade may disappear.\\nHow sweet, when Nature claims repose,\\nAnd darkness floats in silence nigh,\\nTo welcome in, at daylight s close,\\nThose radiant troops that gem the sky\\nTo feel that unseen hand we clasp\\nWhile feet unheard are gathering round,\\nTo know that we in faith may grasp\\nCelestial guards from heavenly ground\\nOh, ever thus, with silent prayer\\nFor those we love may night begin,\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nReposing safe, released from care,\\nTill morning leads the sunlight in.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0118.jp2"}, "119": {"fulltext": "BORROWING TROUBLE.\\n109\\nTHE AVERAGE MAN.\\nIt lias come to light, in the examination of the ships\\nof Cervera s fleet which were wrecked by the Ameri-\\ncan ships off the coast of Santiago, that the work was\\naccomplished, not by the large twelve- and thirteen-\\nineh guns, but by the smaller guns. Of the largest\\nguns, only two shots hit the mark but of the five-\\ninch guns, twenty went home and did fearful work.\\nThe cruiser Brooklyn, which was the only ship in the\\naction using five-inch guns, fought every one of Cer-\\nvera s ships in turn, and the havoc caused by her\\nsmaller rapid-fire guns was one of the features of the\\ngreat battle It is like that in the battle of life. It\\nis only now and then that the great geniuses with\\ntheir ten talents are able to land a shot, but there is\\nalways work for the average man, and there is always\\nopportunity for the average battery of force, in com-\\nmon-sense duty- doing, to accomplish faithful service.\\nMany men are failing utterly in life because they are\\nwaiting to land a thirteen-inch shell. One feels like\\ntaking such a man by the shoulders and shaking him\\nand saying: For heaven s sake, man, get your five-\\ninch guns to work before the opportunities of life are\\ngone forever\\nBORROWING TROUBLE.\\nEmerson brings to us from the French some strik-\\ning lines concerning the unnecessary pain and sorrow", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0119.jp2"}, "120": {"fulltext": "110\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nwhich many people experience through their foolish\\nand unhappy faculty for borrowing trouble\\nSome of your hurts you have cured,\\nAnd the sharpest you still have survived,\\nBut what torments of grief you endured\\nFrom evils which never arrived\\nCHRIST MORE THAN A FRIEND.\\nA proposition has been made by a colored convict in\\nthe State prison at Jackson, Mich., which, while it\\nrecalls the story of Damon and Pythias, serves also to\\nillustrate the manner in which a patriotic fervor per-\\nmeates every stratum of American life. This con-\\nvict s name is Williams. His ten years term of im-\\nprisonment expires next January. Between him and\\na white fellow convict named Cheesebro a warm friend-\\nship has grown up. Cheesebro is serving a life sen-\\ntence, but he yearned for an opportunity to enlist in\\nthe fight against Spain, and his black friend was eager\\nfor him to have the opportunity. So Williams wrote\\na letter to Governor Pingree, begging that Cheesebro\\nmight be given a soldier s opportunity, giving the\\npledge of both that when the war was over Cheese-\\nbro would return to serve out his sentence. If he did\\nnot return, Williams agreed to serve the life sentence\\ninstead, unless the soldier was killed in combat. But\\nhow much greater was Christ s sacrifice for us than\\nthat. These men are both under the condemnation of\\nthe law but Christ of his own will came down from\\nheaven, emptying himself of all its glory, being born", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0120.jp2"}, "121": {"fulltext": "CONFOUNDED COUNSELS. Ill\\nunder the law with us, and gave his own freedom\\nand life as a ransom for us. Christ said that greater\\nlove hath no man than this, that a man lay down his\\nlife for his friends and Paul well reasons that G-od\\ncommendeth his love for us in that while we were yet\\nsinners Christ died for us.\\nTHE DELUSION OF TO-MORROW*\\nLongfellow translates from the Spanish a little\\npoem, entitled To-Morrow, which forms a striking\\ncommentary on those words of Jesus, Behold, I stand\\nat the door and knock\\nLord, what am I, that, with unceasing care,\\nThou didst seek after me, that thou didst wait,\\nWet with unhealthy dews, before my gate,\\nAnd pass the gloomy night of winter there?\\nOh, strange delusion that I did not greet\\nThy blest approach, and oh, to Heaven how lost,\\nIf my ingratitude s unkindly frost\\nHas chilled the bleeding wounds upon thy feet.\\nHow oft my guardian angel gently cried,\\nSoul, from thy casement look, and thou shalt see\\nHow he persists to knock and wait for thee\\nAnd, oh how often to that voice of sorrow,\\nTo-morrow we will open, I replied,\\nAnd when the morrow came I answered still, To-\\nmorrow.\\nCONFOUNDED COUNSELS.\\nSearchlights, which play an important part in mod-\\nern warfare, have one use which the average lands-\\nman would not think of mentioning if he were called", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0121.jp2"}, "122": {"fulltext": "112\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nupon to enumerate their various applications. While\\nthe searchlight s first and chief mission is to throw\\nshafts of light, and to illuminate dark places, to aid in\\nthe discovery of traveling- ships, torpedo-boats, and\\nblockade -runners, it is used extensively also as a means\\nof communication by signals but in a night engage-\\nment it is specially employed to dazzle the eyes of\\nthe gunners on the opposing side. Bad marksmanship\\non the part of the Spaniards has often been given as\\nthe cause for their ineffectual shooting, while the real\\ncause has not infrequently been the good work of those\\nwho operated the searchlights on the American ships.\\nThose who have been compelled to face them say that\\nthere are few more potent blinders than the electric\\nsearchlight. The plans of the wicked often come to\\nnaught in the same way. God throws the searchlight\\non a man s conscience and confounds him with a new\\npower with which he has no weapons to cope. Let\\nno man dare go on in sin unless he can measure arms\\nwith God. Every man carries in his own bosom the\\npossibilities of disaster when the searchlight of God s\\nSpirit arouses conscience to action.\\nA MAN OF GOD.\\nIf one can catch the spirit of Lucy Larcom s poem\\nentitled A Mountaineer s Prayer, he will surely be-\\ncome, in the lofty Bible sense, a man of God.\\nClothe me in the rose tints of Thy skies\\nUpon morning summits laid\\nRobe me in the purple and gold that flies\\nThrough Thy shuttles of light and shade", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0122.jp2"}, "123": {"fulltext": "COMMON WORK GLORIFIED. 113\\nLet me rise and rejoice in Thy smile aright,\\nAs mountains and forests do\\nLet me welcome Thy twilight and Thy night,\\nAnd wait for Thy dawn anew\\nGive me of the brook s faith, joyously sung\\nUnder clank of its icy chain\\nGive me of the patience that hides among\\nThy hilltops in mist and rain\\nLift me up from the clod let me breathe Thy breath\\nThy beauty and strength give me\\nLet me lose both the name and the meaning of death\\nIn the life that I share with Thee\\nCOMMON WORK GLORIFIED,\\nA prominent young man in Cleveland, whose fam-\\nily moves in the best society circles, went home from\\nCornell to join a cavalry troop of that city and go to\\nwar. His parents are wealthy, but when a show of\\npatriotism was called for, he was among the first to\\nbe heard from. At school and college he took a great\\ninterest in manual training, and learned blacksmith-\\ning. Now, what do you suppose he was set doing?\\nWinning glory on the field of battle? Galloping over\\nhills and through dales bearing despatches from one\\ncommander to another? No He was shoeing horses\\nat Chickamauga And he was not complaining either.\\nSomebody must do this, he wrote home; and if I\\ncan be most useful to my country in this way, why,\\nI shall be satisfied. When I enlisted, it was for the\\npurpose of doing my best to win glory for the Stars\\nand Stripes in any way that might be assigned me.\\nBut there are many more pleasant things than work-\\nE 8 V", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0123.jp2"}, "124": {"fulltext": "114\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\ning over an anvil in this climate. All the great\\nthings of life are achieved in that spirit. Christ says\\nthat even a cup of cold water gains a glorious consid-\\neration in the eyes of God when it is given with a\\nnoble spirit.\\nMEMORY AND CHEERFULNESS.\\nMary Devereux, in a recent poem, very beautifully\\nportrays the power of memory to enrich life with good\\ncheer from deeds that are past\\nAs holds some lake with quiet breast\\nThe blue hills brooding height,\\nThat lies against soft summer skies\\nAll filled with sunshine bright\\nSo holds the heart sweet memories\\nOf happy days gone by,\\nWhen youth and love walked hand-in-hand\\nAnd hope could fate defy.\\nAs vibrant shakes the slender twig\\nSome happy song-bird quits,\\nSo trembling still the heart-chords thrill\\nWhen sweet remembrance flits,\\nAnd brightly gilds the somber gray,\\nAs ends a long day spent,\\nEre darkness comes to steal the gold\\nThe parting sun has sent.\\nTHE DANGER OF WORLDLINESS.\\nA recent magazine writer calls attention to the dele-\\nterious effect of the electric light on trees. He finds\\nthat trees growing near an electric light soon lose\\ntheir leaves on the side next the light and begin to", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0124.jp2"}, "125": {"fulltext": "THE CROAKERS.\\n115\\ndie. He philosophizes that the reason is that they\\ncan not sleep with those big glaring electric eyes shi-\\nning in their faces all night. This gentleman also be-\\nlieves that the electric lights are much to blame for\\nhuman sight defects and nervousness, and, lastly, for\\ninsomnia. He reasons that we want darkness for\\nrest, and that the electric lights make that impossible.\\nThe electric light suggests the glaring blaze of world-\\nline ss in which many Christians live. A happy and\\nabundant Christian life can not be carried on without\\nBible-reading, meditation, and prayer. The blazing\\nworldliness in which many live seems to shut out the\\nopportunities for these feeders of the soul.\\nTHE BIBLE IN THE HOME.\\nNathaniel Frothingham wrote a little poem to go\\nwith the gift of a Bible on a wedding-day, which beau-\\ntifully sets forth the blessedness of sincere religion in\\nnourishing wedded love\\nA better love than mine\\nThis holy volume gives\\nIt shows no shadow of decline,\\nAnd when I die it lives.\\nThis book binds man and wife\\nIn closer love and fears\\nAnd all the ties that bless our life\\nIt hallows and endears.\\nTHE CROAKERS.\\nA cedar swamp where the night heron resorts in\\nthe spring to rear its young would be a paradise for\\ncroakers. The night herons take possession of a large", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0125.jp2"}, "126": {"fulltext": "116\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\ncedar swamp and build their nests in the tree-tops.\\nEach mother heron raises four young ones, and as soon\\nas the little herons come out of the eggs they seek\\nthe topmost branches of the tree, where they cling\\nwith their toes and keep up a continual croaking. As\\neach tree has a hungry brood in its top, the hubbub\\nat this period of a heron s career is something that,\\nonce heard, can never be forgotten. Added to the\\nbabel of sound proceeding from the young herons is\\nthe shrill cry of the old birds, as if they were trying\\nto quiet the young ones with promises of something\\nto eat by and by. Some churches are like that the\\ncroakers seem to have full sway. Instead of every\\none seeking to find what he can do to add to the\\nchurch s power, every one seems clamoring to receive\\nsomething for himself. You may depend upon it that\\ncroaking is usually born of selfishness and greed.\\nTHE BLINDING POWER OF SIN.\\nIn the Merchant of Venice Shakespeare sets forth\\nin strong, virile lines the power of sin to blind the eyes\\nof the soul\\nIn law, what plea so tainted and corrupt,\\nBut, being seasoned with a gracious voice,\\nObscures the show of evil? In religion,\\nWhat damned error, but some sober brow\\nWill bless it, and approve it with a text,\\nHiding the grossness with fair ornament?", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0126.jp2"}, "127": {"fulltext": "THE CHRISTIAN S CONFIDENCE.\\n117\\nSIN THE ASSASSIN OF CHEERFULNESS.\\nGeneral Kalli, a lively old Greek who at the age of\\nninety-seven years was in active service in the com-\\nmissariat department, a well-known man abont town\\nin Athens, a skilled horseman, an inveterate dancer,\\nrecently shot himself, leaving a note with the words\\nMy God, I have sinned, sinned, sinned. I am tired\\nof life. Sin and discouragement go together. The\\ndevil takes cheerfulness out of the life of those who\\nyield to his seductions.\\nTHE CHRISTIAN S CONFIDENCE.\\nNo one has ever sung a song of sweeter trust\\nthan has John G. Whittier in his poem entitled\\nEevelation\\nOh, joy supreme I know the Voice,\\nLike none beside on earth or sea\\nYea, more, soul of mine, rejoice\\nBy all that he requires of me\\nI know what God himself must be.\\nNo picture to my aid I call,\\nI shape no image in my prayer\\nI only know in him is all\\nOf light, life, beauty, everywhere,\\nEternal goodness here and there\\nI know he is, and what he is\\nWhose one great purpose is the good\\nOf all. I rest my soul on his\\nImmortal Love and Fatherhood\\nAnd trust him as his children should.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0127.jp2"}, "128": {"fulltext": "118\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nI fear no more. The clouded face\\nOf Nature smiles through all her things\\nOf time and space and sense I trace\\nThe moving of the Spirit s wings,\\nAnd hear the song of hope she sings.\\nTAMING LIONS,\\nThe noted German lion-tamer, Julius Seeth, re-\\ncently acquired a valuable collection of lions in a\\ncurious way. Herr Seeth was at the court of King\\nMenelik, in Abyssinia the king had heard, through\\nhis minister, of Seeth s prowess, and wanted to see a\\nproof of it. He had twenty-eight Abyssinian lions\\ncaught especially for him to train. Seeth began his\\ntask, and in a short time was able to bring them be-\\nfore the Abyssinian monarch perfectly under control.\\nMenelik was so amazed and delighted at the perform-\\nance that he immediately presented them all to Seeth.\\nThat is the way the Lord treated the Hebrews on their\\nmarch into Canaan. He gave them all the land on\\nwhich they had pressed their feet. He will treat us\\nin the same way. All the lions we conquer by self-\\ndiscipline, all the land we gain by conquest through\\nself-denial, shall become our own, and we shall enjoy\\nthe possession of it in after years.\\nTHE WINGED WORD.\\nWilhelm Muller illustrates with a graphic figure\\nthe grave danger of careless and hasty speaking,\\nand how impossible it is for a man to bring back", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0128.jp2"}, "129": {"fulltext": "CHRIST S PRESENCE.\\n119\\nwords of folly or of wickedness after they have\\nonce been uttered\\nHas the word the lips once quitted, you ll o ertake it never-\\nmore,\\nTho next moment your repentance scurry off with coach and\\nfour.\\nAN APOLOGUE OF STANDING ARMIES.\\nA distinguished European officer tells a story which\\nin a very striking way illustrates the wicked folly of\\nthe great standing armaments which are such a bur-\\nden for the world to carry to-day. There were three\\nneighbors Ivan, Sidor, and Peter each of whom\\nhad a keeper to look after his farm. One day it oc-\\ncurred to Ivan that if his two neighbors leagued\\nagainst him he would have but a poor chance. There-\\nfore he hired another man, which led Sidor to believe\\nhe had some evil purpose, who thereupon secured two\\nmore men, and thought he could sleep in peace. Ivan\\nwas alarmed, and immediately increased his force to\\nthree in order for his security and Sidor and he kept\\non in this ruinous game of competition. Peter, mean-\\nwhile, took note of the folly. What an excellent\\nway of creating evil when it does not exist he said.\\nBetter to live like a good housewife. Let evil come\\nand I will defend myself. All the world will not be\\nagainst me. Perhaps I shall have helpers. The devil\\nis powerful, but God is good 99\\nCHRIST S PRESENCE.\\nCharlotte Elliott sings beautifully of the great truth\\nthat if Christ dwell in our heart all will go well, all", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0129.jp2"}, "130": {"fulltext": "120\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nthe sorrows and ills of life will be cured for he, be-\\ning master there, will do what is best for us\\nLet but my fainting heart be blest\\nWith thy sweet Spirit for its guest,\\nMy God, to thee I leave the rest\\nThy will be done\\nKenew my will from day to day\\nBlended with thine and take away\\nAll that now makes it hard to say,\\nThy will be done\\nBACTERIA OF RUM.\\nA new bacillus has just been discovered by a noted\\nGerman scientist. It seems to have its particular\\nhome in rum. It ruins the rum, and the most inter-\\nesting feature of the discovery is that this is the first\\nbacillus found that can live in a fluid of seventy per\\ncent, alcohol. It is considered one of the most dan-\\ngerous of the bacilli. There are dangerous bacteria\\nfor men in all kinds of alcoholic drinks. No other\\nsin that ravages humanity can compare in destructive\\nforce to the deadly worm of the still. It may fasci-\\nnate and deceive for a while, but at the last it biteth\\nlike a serpent, and stingeth like an adder.\\nINVINCIBLE LOVE.\\nEmerson sings strongly of the power of love to sur-\\nmount all difficulties in accomplishing its object\\nLove on his errand bound to go\\nCan swim the flood and wade through snow\\nWhere way is none, twill creep and wind,\\nAnd eat through Alps its home to find.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0130.jp2"}, "131": {"fulltext": "THE POWER OF CHRISTIAN SONG. 121\\nTHE POWER OF CHRISTIAN SONG.\\nMr. Sankey relates the story of how Mr. Moody\\nand himself once appeared in London before an au-\\ndience of men and women made up of out-and-out\\nhaters of the Christian Church. Such only had been\\nadmitted. People who were churchgoers could not get\\ninto that meeting. Most of the men and women pres-\\nent were rough scoffers. No regular clergyman could\\nhave induced such people as they to reform, but they\\ncame to hear Moody and Sankey because they had\\nnever received such an invitation before. The idea\\nof a religious meeting from which churchgoers were\\nbarred out had startled them. But having succeeded\\nin getting them there, the problem arose how they\\nshould prevent them from going away more confirmed\\nthan ever in their wickedness. We must interest\\nthem with the singing, said Moody. We must\\nhave a hymn which will appeal to the hearts of them\\nall, and what I want you to sing is My Mother s\\nPrayer. Mr. Sankey began that song amid the\\nnoise of shuffling feet and whispered comments. But\\nbefore one verse had been sung there fell over that\\naudience a silence so perfect that he could almost hear\\nthe beating of his own heart and the ticking of the\\nclock in the pauses between the lines. He sang all\\nits seven verses with an enthusiasm such as he had\\nnever felt before. As the last note died away, Mr.\\nMoody followed with a very tender and loving ad-\\ndress. He carried the audience like a whirlwind, and", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0131.jp2"}, "132": {"fulltext": "122\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nwhen lie ceased, five hundred of those rude, irrever-\\nent unbelievers rose up from their seats beside their\\nboon companions and their accomplices in iniquity\\nand asked for prayers. The song had found the way\\nto the one tender spot in their hearts. Every one who\\nhas the gift of sweet song should dedicate it to Christ.\\nTHANKSGIVING FOR SPIRITUAL BLESSINGS.\\nWe have in our knowledge of Christ as a divine\\nSavior great reason for thanksgiving to God. Dur-\\ning and since the war against Spain we have caught\\nsome glimpses of the spiritual poverty existing under\\nan oppressive and bigoted government. We should\\nthank God for an open Bible for the chance not only\\nto read it, but to preach it everywhere. We have also\\na new cause for thanksgiving that through war mil-\\nlions of heathen people have had taken from about\\nthem the worse than Chinese wall of bigotry and\\nsuperstition that shut out from them the light of the\\nGospel of Christ. We should thank God for the privi-\\nlege of carrying the comforts of divine grace to these\\nbenighted souls. With Cuba and Porto Rico, Guam\\nand the Philippines in our mind, we should sing with\\na new spirit\\nWaft, waft, ye winds, his story,\\nAnd you, ye waters, roll,\\nTill, like a sea of glory,\\nIt spreads from pole to pole\\nTill o er our ransomed nature\\nThe Lamb for sinners slain,\\nRedeemer, King, Creator,\\nIn bliss returns to reign.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0132.jp2"}, "133": {"fulltext": "THE ELIXIR OF LIFE.\\n123\\nTHE EXPRESSION OF GRATITUDE.\\nLet the redeemed of the Lord say so, is a good\\nmotto for Thanksgiving-time. It is not enongh to\\nfeel thankful in our hearts, we should bear open tes-\\ntimony to God s goodness to us by the praise of our\\nlips. We know that God likes to have thanksgiving\\nexpressed. The flowers express their thanksgiving by\\ntheir perfume. The birds express their gratitude by\\ntheir cheerful songs. And we should make known\\nthe pleasure which we feel at God s goodness not only\\nby voicing it in prayer and praise, but by talking to\\neach other about it.\\nTHE ELIXIR OF LIFE.\\nGeorge Herbert illustrates in his poem, The\\nElixir, the truth of the Scripture declaration that\\nwhile the letter killeth, the spirit maketh alive. The\\npresence of Christ in our hearts, the feeling that we\\nare doing what we do for him, makes all our work\\nhigher and nobler\\nTeach me, my God and King,\\nIn all things thee to see,\\nAnd what I do in anything,\\nTo do it as for thee\\nAll may of thee partake\\nNothing can be so mean,\\nWhich with this tincture, for thy sake,\\nWill not grow bright and clean.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0133.jp2"}, "134": {"fulltext": "124\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nA servant with this clause\\nMakes drudgery divine\\nWho sweeps a room as for thy laws\\nMakes that and th action fine.\\nThis is the famous stone\\nThat turneth all to gold\\nFor that which God doth touch and own\\nCan not for less be told.\\nSUPERIOR TO TRIFLES.\\nA newspaper man watched Senator Depew, of New\\nYork, as he left his office in the Grand Central Sta-\\ntion and started across the street to catch a car. The\\nnorth side of the street was torn up, and an Italian\\nlaborer who was pushing a wheelbarrow shoved it\\ncarelessly against Mr. Depew s foot. The Senator\\ncalmly ignored the man s carelessness and continued\\nto pick his way across the muddy pavement. The car\\nhe signaled stopped in an unusually uncomfortable\\nplace for him, and he was compelled to walk several\\nsteps over muddy cobblestones and finally to step over\\na grimy rope. However, New York s genial Senator\\nraised his cane and bowed to the negligent motorman\\nwith the grace of a Chesterfield, stepped in through the\\nfront door of the car, and seated himself with unruffled\\ncomposure. Largeness of mind and character come\\nout in these little things just as surely as in matters\\nof larger scope. Fill the soul with great purposes\\nand you can afford to be superior to trifles. That was\\na great thing which Paul said about himself, When\\nI became a man, I put away childish things.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0134.jp2"}, "135": {"fulltext": "HERO-WORSHIP IN CHRISTIANITY. 125\\nTHE GLORY OF UNSELFISHNESS.\\nTheodore Monod, during a series of revival meet-\\nings in England, wrote The Altered Motto, which\\nhas gone round the world and deserves to be immor-\\ntal, for it beautifully expresses the evolution of Chris-\\ntianity in the human heart. Happy are those who\\ncan read or sing the last verse, rejoicing that it re-\\nflects their own condition\\nOil, the bitter shame and sorrow,\\nThat a time could ever be\\nWhen I let the Savior s pity\\nPlead in vain, and proudly answer,\\nAll of self, and none of thee.\\nYet he found me. I beheld him\\nBleeding on the accursed tree,\\nHeard him pray, Forgive them, Father\\nAnd my wistful heart said faintly,\\nSome of self, and some of thee.\\nDay by day his tender mercy,\\nHealing, helping, full and free,\\nSweet and strong, and ah so patient,\\nBrought me lower, while I whispered,\\nLess of self, and more of thee\\nHigher than the highest heavens,\\nDeeper than the deepest sea,\\nLord, thy love at last has conquered\\nGrant me now my soul s desire,\\nNone of self, and all of thee\\nHERO-WORSHIP IN CHRISTIANITY.\\nGen. Robert E. Lee was once riding through the\\ncountry, some time after the war, on Traveler, his pet", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0135.jp2"}, "136": {"fulltext": "126\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nhorse, that had carried him on many a battlefield,\\nwhen he met a rusty, weather-beaten mountaineer\\nlounging drowsily upon the road in his rickety cart.\\nGeneral Lee s cordial Good morning! aroused the\\nold Confederate instantly. Whoa he called out\\nto his old nag. Ain t that General Lee? he in-\\nquired, as he climbed down and caught Traveler by\\nthe bridle. Yes, sir, said General Lee wonder-\\ningly. Well, then, said the old fellow, in a glow\\nof excitement, I want you to do me a favor. I\\nwill, with pleasure, if I can, was the response. All\\nright, you just get down off Traveler. General Lee\\ndid so, and to his amazement his horse was led away\\nand tied in the bushes, while he stood alone in the\\ndusty road in great perplexity. Now, said the ex-\\ncited veteran, I am one of your old soldiers, General\\nLee. I was with you all the way from Mechanics-\\nville to Appomattox. I was thar every time. And\\nI just want you to let me give three rousing cheers\\nfor Marse Eobert General Lee s head dropped\\nin most painful embarrassment as the first yell went\\nsounding along the mountain-side. The next yell was\\nchoked with sobs, as the old soldier dropped on his\\nknees in the dust, hugging General Lee s legs; and\\nthe third died away in tears. Give us such loyalty\\nfor Jesus Christ and nothing can stand against him.\\nOther generals may come and go they grow old and\\ndie, and their swords hang up in the museums and\\ngather with rust but he is alive f orevermore. If we\\ngive him all our heart s devotion, he will lead us ever-\\nmore to victory.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0136.jp2"}, "137": {"fulltext": "POWER OF BROTHERHOOD.\\n127\\nPOWER OF MUSIC.\\nWordsworth, in his poem Canute, suggests the\\npower of music to attract, soften, and ennoble even\\nthe rude and savage soul\\nA pleasant music floats along the mere,\\nFrom monks in Ely chanting service high,\\nWhile at Canute the king is bowing by\\nMy oarsmen, quoth the mighty king, draw near,\\nThat we the sweet song of the monk may hear\\nHe listened (all past conquests and all schemes\\nOf future vanishing like empty dreams),\\nHeart-touched, and happily not without a tear.\\nThe royal minstrel, ere the choir is still,\\nWhile his free barge skims the smooth flood along\\nGives to that rapture an accordant rime.\\nO suffering earth be thankful sternest clime\\nAnd rudest age are subject to the thrill\\nOf heaven-descended piety and song.\\nPOWER OF BROTHERHOOD.\\nEobert Johnston, a negro minstrel who was con-\\nverted to Christ in a mission-tent on Epsom Downs,\\nat the great Derby horse-race, has had marvelous suc-\\ncess in winning coal-miners to Christ. He goes right\\ndown into the mines and talks to the men hundreds\\nof feet below the ground. Here is a description\\nof one of these trips He went down one day into a\\nmine fifteen hundred feet below the surface. Dressed\\nin collier fashion, with his safety-lamp and his old\\nbanjo, he trudged along the gloomy track, and great\\nwas his joy when at last he found himself face to face", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0137.jp2"}, "138": {"fulltext": "128\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nwith a large number of hewers and fillers. He sang\\nto the astonished men, accompanying himself on his\\nbanjo, and told the half -naked collier lads of the\\nChrist he had found on the Epsom race-course. Tho\\nwell blackened with coal-dust on top of his original\\ncoating, and bathed in perspiration, he was greatly re-\\njoiced to find that he had struck a shift containing the\\nvery men who the night before had dodged his per-\\nsonal appeals in the open-air services, and had gone\\ninto the public house to drink instead. Here they\\nwere caught in a trap and could not run away from\\nGod s word. He had tremendous influence over them,\\nand many of them exclaimed: We ne er seed owt\\nlike this! Thou s bro t a noo kind o religion to\\nDenaby, when thou can coom deawn pit n play an\\nsing, n speak loike one o oursen s. O m bound to\\nbelieve in aw thou s said; its reet, n O m bound to\\nbelieve it; n God bless thee, lad.\\nA LIVING REST,\\nGeorge Macdonald has a sweet song of that living\\nrest which one may carry in his heart through days of\\nmost active struggle\\nThere is a rest that deeper grows\\nIn midst of pain and strife\\nA mighty, conscious, willed repose,\\nThe breath of deepest life.\\nTo have and hold the precious prize\\nNo need of jealous bars\\nBut windows open to the skies,\\nAnd skill to read the stars.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0138.jp2"}, "139": {"fulltext": "CHARACTERS WE A TING. 129\\nCHARACTER-SWEATING.\\nIngenious criminals have discovered a way of sweat-\\ning a coin so that without altering its appearance they\\nare able to rob it of a portion of its legal weight.\\nManifestly gold coins alone would appeal to the\\nsweater, for silver would hardly pay for the trou-\\nble. It is most practised west of the Eocky Moun-\\ntains, and the large twenty- dollar gold pieces are\\nusually the victims of this swindle. The process of\\nrobbing a coin of a part of its metal is simple. The\\ngold piece is merely immersed, or suspended, in aqua\\nvegia, a mixture of nitric and hydrochloric acids, which\\nattacks the metal at once. So powerful is this solu-\\ntion that in a few minutes it will absorb from one to\\ntwo dollars worth of gold from a twenty-dollar gold\\npiece. The coin is then washed in water and polished\\nwith whiting, as otherwise its surface would betray\\nthe ordeal through which it had passed, showing\\npockmarks in great variety. Wicked and impure\\nassociations have the same effect on character that\\nthese acids have on gold. Sometimes a man s moral\\nnature is greatly robbed before he himself is conscious\\nof it. Many men and women are thus deteriorating\\nand losing in real force and character while to the\\nouter world they appear as strong as ever. And when\\nthey go down, some sudden test finding them want-\\ning, people are astonished. The fact is, the devil has\\nbeen sweating them a long time, and when an emer-\\ngency comes they are weighed in the balance and\\nfound wanting.\\n9", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0139.jp2"}, "140": {"fulltext": "130\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nTHE BRAHMAN S TEST.\\nMargaret Preston gives us the story of the Brahman\\nwho was led to listen earnestly to the story of Christ\\nand whose heart was greatly attracted by the good\\ntidings. Finally he determined to put his idol to a\\ntest. He reasoned that if he should treat the idol\\nwith disrespect, thrusting his knife into it, that\\nBrahma would slay him, if indeed Brahma were God\\nif he did not so act, he would know that Christ was\\nGod and so he determined to dare to know the truth\\neven tho he died for it. With terror- smitten soul he\\ncame before the idol and cried\\nOh, what if this be God indeed,\\nAnd when he feels the smart\\nMy dagger deals, he from his throne\\nIn direst wrath shall start,\\nAnd clutch me in his grasp and spill\\nThe life-blood from my heart\\nBut with the courage of a brave man he acted.\\nFull in the idol s breast the blade\\nWas plunged there came no moan.\\nThe pundit dropped with stifling joy\\nUpon the pavement stone,\\nSobbing, My Brahma is a lie,\\nThe Christ is God alone\\nRICH PAVEMENTS.\\nIt is not often that it is given to men, outside of\\nthe favored gentlemen who figure in the story of Alad-\\ndin and kindred productions of rich Oriental imagina-", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0140.jp2"}, "141": {"fulltext": "HARDENING THE HEART BLINDS THE EYES. 131\\ntion, to travel daily on a road literally groaning with\\ndiamonds. Yet until a few years ago there was such a\\nroad in the Kimberley district in South Africa; and\\nwhen a man walked over it, he walked over millions\\nof dollars worth of the precious stones. When the\\ndiamond market was in its glory, piles of dirt that\\nhad been carelessly mined were used for macadami-\\nzing the roads around the city of Kimberley but when\\ndiamonds became more scarce, these roads were taken\\nup and worked, and the value of over two hundred\\nthousand dollars a year in precious stones was taken\\nout of the streets for several years. But every Chris-\\ntian looks forward to a mansion on a city street\\nwhere the ordinary paving is gold, and where the\\nwalls and gates are of precious stones. No one will\\nmine the streets there, or tear up the pavement to\\nmake money. Other values so much greater will fill\\nthe mind and heart that these signs of earthly glory\\nwill be things to walk on.\\nHARDENING THE HEART BLINDS THE EYES.\\nNo one has written more clearly of that great fact,\\nso often observed, that as the sinner s heart hardens\\nhis spiritual perception decreases, than Shakespeare\\nin the third act of Antony and Cleopatra\\nWhen we in our viciousness grow hard\\nO misery on t The wise gods seal our eyes\\nIn our own filth drop our clear judgment make us\\nAdorn our errors laugh at s while we strut\\nTo our own confusion.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0141.jp2"}, "142": {"fulltext": "132\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nTHE GROWTH OF HUMAN RIGHTS.\\nThere has been recently printed, and for the first\\ntime, a story told by Napoleon Bonaparte, of how\\nCardinal Richelieu was once conversing with a noble-\\nman in his private cabinet. During their conversa-\\ntion a still more distinguished man entered, and when\\nhe took his leave, Richelieu, in compliment to him,\\nattended him to his carriage, forgetting that he had\\nleft the other alone in his cabinet. On his return he\\nrang a bell, and one of his confidential secretaries en-\\ntered, to whom he whispered something. He then\\nconversed with the other very freely, appeared to take\\nan interest in his affairs, accompanied him to the door,\\nshook hands, and took leave in the most friendly way,\\ntelling him that he might make his mind easy concern-\\ning the petition which he had made, as he had deter-\\nmined to provide for him. The guest thus departed\\nhighly satisfied and full of gratitude. But as he was\\ngoing out of the door he was arrested, not allowed to\\nspeak to any person, and conveyed in a coach to the\\nBastile, where he was kept in secret for ten years.\\nAt the expiration of this time the Cardinal sent for\\nhim and expressed his great regret at having been\\nobliged to adopt the step he had taken, but that when\\nhe quitted the room he had left on the table a paper\\ncontaining state secrets of vast importance, which he\\nwas afraid he might have perused in his absence. In\\nour days of free press and free speech, such things, of\\ncourse, would be impossible. Free speech and free", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0142.jp2"}, "143": {"fulltext": "BRAVE BOYHOOD.\\n133\\npress are no doubt often sinned against, but they help\\nwonderfully the growth of the rights of the individual.\\nLight is the best policeman and general publicity is\\nthe surest safeguard of the rights of the people.\\nHEWING ROUGH STONE.\\nRichard Trench suggests a reason for thanksgiv-\\ning for sorrows and trials at which many of us are\\nlikely to grumble. These, he would have us under-\\nstand, are meant to be polishing and shaping influ-\\nences which are to take away the roughness that would\\notherwise unfit us for a place in the great spiritual\\ntemple. He has good backing in Paul for these two\\nstrong lines\\nWhen God afflicts thee, think he hews a rugged stone\\nWhich must be shaped or else aside as useless thrown.\\nBRAVE BOYHOOD.\\nA thirteen-year-old boy near Port Clinton, Pa.,\\nhad a thrilling experience lately with an eagle on the\\nmountain near his home, The boy, who is a good\\nshot with a rifle, went out on the mountain for the\\npurpose of practising at a target. While in the woods\\nhe was attacked by a large eagle. The bird attempted\\nto alight on his head It partially succeeded in doing\\nthis, when the lad coolly turned on the bird and\\nstruck it on the neck with his rifle, and it flew to the\\ntop of a tree near by. He then raised his rifle to\\nshoot, when it again attacked him, sinking its talons", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0143.jp2"}, "144": {"fulltext": "134\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\ninto the flesh of his body but the little fellow kept\\ncool and again fought it off, and, raising his rifle,\\nbrought down the prize, sending a bullet through its\\nhead. The boy was alone at the time, but brought\\nhome his game. It measured forty-six inches from\\ntip to tip of wing. A prouder boy never lived in the\\nneighborhood. Every boy should fight against the\\nbirds of prey that seek to take away his reverence for\\nGod and his love for the simple worship he has been\\ntaught in his Christian home. God wants us all to be\\nfighters against these evil things that beset us. The\\ndevil is no match even for a boy who will make as\\nheroic a fight against him as this boy made against\\nthe eagle. Eesist the devil, and he will flee from\\nyou.\\nROBIN REDBREAST.\\nBishop Doane has written a beautiful poem of the\\npretty legend concerning the robin\\nSweet robin, I have heard them say-\\nThat thou wert there upon the day\\nThat Christ was crowned in cruel scorn.\\nAnd bore away one bleeding thorn\\nThat so the blush upon thy breast\\nIn shameful sorrow was impressed,\\nAnd thence thy genial sympathy\\nWith our redeemed humanity.\\nSweet robin, would that I might be\\nBathed in my Savior s blood, like thee\\nBear in my breast, whate er the loss,\\nThe bleeding blazon of the cross", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0144.jp2"}, "145": {"fulltext": "THE MASTER S PORTRAIT.\\n135\\nLike ever with thy loving mind\\nIn fellowship with human kind\\nAnd take my pattern still from thee\\nIn gentleness and constancy.\\nTHE MASTER S PORTRAIT.\\nAn English, gentleman is the owner of a very fine\\nhunting estate on the south coast of Spain. In the\\nspring of 1882 the Austrian consul called on him and\\nsaid that his mistress, the Empress Elizabeth, greatly-\\ndesired to rent his place for the season, understand-\\ning that he proposed to spend the summer in England.\\nThe Englishman said that he would not rent his place\\nto any one, but he would feel highly honored if her\\nMajesty would occupy it during his absence. When\\nhe returned with his family in the autumn, his wife\\nreceived a note from the Empress, saying that she\\nwould pass through Jerez, their winter home, on a cer-\\ntain day, and desired to breakfast with her. Her\\nMajesty expressed her indebtedness for a delightful\\nsummer, and urged that she be allowed to make some\\ncompensation for the place but the offer was grace-\\nfully refused. At length the Empress said Is there\\nnothing I can do to show my appreciation of your\\nkindness and courtesy? Well, replied the gen-\\ntleman, if on your Majesty s return to Vienna you\\nwill send me a small photograph with your autograph,\\nI shall be pleased to possess it. Several months\\npassed without the appearance of the promised por-\\ntrait, and the English family rather unwillingly ar-\\nrived at the conclusion that the illustrious lady had", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0145.jp2"}, "146": {"fulltext": "136\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nentirely forgotten them and her promise, when one\\nday an enormous box arrived, containing a finely\\nframed full-length oil painting of the Empress, exe-\\ncuted by one of the first artists of Europe. That was\\nsurely a deed worthy of a queen, and is a suggestion\\nof the way Christ treats us. He gives us himself not\\nsimply a picture to hang on the wall, but he comes\\nand dwells in our hearts, a royal guest, giving us the\\nconstant honor and glory of his presence.\\nBEAUTY ITS OWN EXCUSE,\\nOften in the heart of the slums I have found,\\nhedged in by circumstances and life gross and impure,\\na life or a family of lives as pure and wholesome as\\none could find anywhere in the world and as I mar-\\nveled I have thought of Emerson s song when he\\nfound the beautiful Khodora in the May woods with\\nits beauty surrounded by the muddy swamp\\nIf the sages ask thee why\\nThis charm is wasted on the earth and sky,\\nTell them, dear, that if eyes were made for seeing,\\nThen beauty is its own excuse for being.\\nCHRIST INDORSING OUR BROTHER S CLAIM.\\nI ll tell you a story about President Cleveland\\nthat you probably never heard, said a prominent\\npolitician recently. And he proceeded to relate how\\none of those rascally loafers in Washington who some-\\ntimes find their way into office rented the house of an\\naged widow, who was dependent on that source for", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0146.jp2"}, "147": {"fulltext": "CHRIST INDORSING OUR BROTHER S CLAIM. 137\\nher entire income. He put her off from month to\\nmonth, and finally laughed in her face as he told her\\nthat he would not pay, and that she could not make\\nhim pay. He would not go out till the law put him\\nout, and he would avail himself of all the delays pos-\\nsible. She consulted a lawyer who had been a friend\\nof her family for years but the loaf erish officeholder\\nwas even more impudent to him. The case was so\\nhard that the attorney went personally to the Presi-\\ndent, who heard the facts, and then said in an indig-\\nnant tone Get the fellow s note. But his note\\nisn t worth the paper it is written on. No matter.\\nGet his note and bring it to me. There was no trou-\\nble in carrying out this request, the debtor expressing\\nhis delight at being allowed to settle at the trouble\\nof writing a worthless obligation. The lawyer took\\nit to the President and said Now what? This,\\nreplied the President, as he wrote his name across the\\nback; I indorse it, now demand payment. The\\nofficeholder was in a leading hotel when the lawyer\\nwalked up to him and asked a settlement as he handed\\nhim the note. The fellow sneered until he turned the\\npaper over. Then he turned purple, stammered out a\\nrequest that the lawyer wait there for ten minutes,\\nand inside of that time he was back with the money.\\nJesus Christ has indorsed the claim of the poorest and\\nweakest of our fellow men on our brotherly kindness\\nand mercy. He has written across the back of their\\nclaim Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the\\nleast of these, my brethren, ye have done it unto me.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0147.jp2"}, "148": {"fulltext": "138\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nTHE LAME TAKE THE PREY.\\nThe strength of weakness, the assurance that not\\nin pride and self-sufficiency lie the Christian s power,\\nbut rather in perfect reliance on God s mercy and\\nlove, is brought out very clearly by Charles Wesley in\\nwhat many consider his masterpiece, the poem en-\\ntitled Wrestling J acob. He closes his great poem\\nwith these verses\\nContented now, upon my thigh\\nI halt, till life s short journey end\\nAll helplessness, all weakness, I\\nOn thee alone for strength depend\\nNor have I power from thee to move\\nThy nature and thy name is Love.\\nLame as I am, I take the prey\\nHell, earth, and sin with ease o ercome;\\nI leap for joy, pursue my way,\\nAnd as a bounding hart fly home,\\nTo all eternity to prove\\nThy nature and thy name is Love.\\nSAVING THE FRAGMENTS.\\nIt is stated that cars which cost originally over one\\nhundred and fifty thousands dollars are being reduced\\nto scrap-iron and ashes by a Brooklyn trolley com-\\npany. The superintendent of the road is reported as\\nstating that the reason for the company not selling\\nthe old coaches is because they would bring only\\ntwenty-five dollars each, delivered, while in old metal\\nalone they get about seventy dollars. One wonders\\nwhy some one in that company did not conceive the", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0148.jp2"}, "149": {"fulltext": "DETECTING FALSE JEWELS. 139\\ngracious idea of breaking those cars up instead of\\nburning them, and giving the wood to the poor or sell-\\ning it at a price within their reach. There is waste\\nenough about some modern cities to take the sting of\\npoverty out of hundreds and thousands of impover-\\nished homes. The Savior s exhortation, Gather up\\nthe fragments that remain, that nothing be lost, needs\\nconstant reiteration in these days.\\nSANCTIMONIOUSNESS.\\nWilhelm Mliller has a striking little couplet which\\naptly hits off the man who drags his professed piety\\nin on all occasions\\nDo you know why Goodman s glances always wander toward\\nthe skies?\\nTis because he dare not look a fellow creature in the eyes.\\nDETECTING FALSE JEWELS.\\nA jewel expert has discovered that by looking at\\nobjects through a screen of two glass plates, laid one\\nupon the other, one being of a blue tint and the other\\nof a yellow tint, some objects show a difference which\\nto the naked eye appear the same in color. Thus, a\\ngreen emerald looks a rosy violet through the glass\\nbut a false green emerald looks green. True sap-\\nphire keeps its natural blue through the screen, and\\nfalse blue sapphire appears a rosy red. An Egyptian\\ncup in Sevres blue paste appeared blue, save a part\\nrestored, which was red. He was able to conclude\\nthat the Egyptian paste had a base of copper blue,", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0149.jp2"}, "150": {"fulltext": "140\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nand the restored part one of cobalt. Men may patch\\nup their lives, and cover the cracks and seamy places\\nso that human eyes may not see the difference but\\nGod sees, and only the genuine soul can pass his judg-\\nment-day.\\nSYMPATHY.\\nThe humblest men and women in the world may be\\na blessing to their fellows if they are truly sympa-\\nthetic. Elizabeth Barrett Browning brings this out\\nvery tenderly in one of the verses of her little poem,\\nAKeed\\nI am no trumpet, but a reed,\\nA broken reed, the wind indeed\\nLeft flat upon a dismal shore\\nYet if a little maid or child\\nShould sigh within it, earnest-mild,\\nThis reed will answer evermore.\\nLOST IN THE SAND.\\nSven Hedin, in Through Asia, gives a most\\nstartling picture of the horror of being lost in the\\ndesert. They toiled on for life bare life. Then\\nimagine their amazement when on the long surface of\\na dune they perceived human footsteps imprinted in\\nthe sand. Down they went on their knees and ex-\\namined them. There was no doubt of it. They were\\nthe footprints of human beings. Surely they could\\nnot be very far off from the river now. In an instant\\nthey were wide awake. They followed up the trail\\ntill they came to the top of a dune where the sand was", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0150.jp2"}, "151": {"fulltext": "BROTHERHOOD TRANSFORMING CHARITY. 141\\ndriven together in a hard, compact mass, and the foot-\\nprints could be more distinctly made out. The leader\\ndropped on his knees, then cried in a scarcely audi-\\nble voice They are our own footsteps n That is\\nonly a suggestion of what it means to have lost the\\npath across the desert of life on the way to eternity.\\nTo have lost hope, lost heart, lost heaven, who can\\ntell what that means? Multitudes are so lost, and it\\nis our blessed privilege to find them and bring them\\nback to hope.\\nBROTHERHOOD TRANSFORMING CHARITY.\\nNo man has sounded a stronger note of the Christ-\\nliness and transforming glory of real brotherhood than\\nJames Eussell Lowell in Sir Launf al. How clearly\\nit comes out in that scene in the first part of the\\npoem, where the young and proud Sir Launfal tosses\\nthe leper a gift of gold, but in the spirit of scorn.\\nThe leper raised not the gold from the dust\\nBetter to me the poor man s crust,\\nBetter the blessing of the poor,\\nTho I turn me empty from his door\\nThat is no true alms which the hand can hold\\nHe gives only the worthless gold\\nWho gives from a sense of duty\\nBut he who gives but a slender mite,\\nAnd gives to that which is out of sight,\\nThat thread of the all-sustaining Beauty\\nWhich runs through all and doth all unite,\\nThe hand can not clasp the whole of his alms,\\nThe heart outstretches its eager palms\\nFor a god goes with it and makes it store\\nTo the soul that was starving in darkness before.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0151.jp2"}, "152": {"fulltext": "142\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nUNEXPECTED HUMAN GOLD.\\nIn Mayfield, Ky not long since, a young woman\\ntried to cross the track at the depot in front of a\\nfreight train. One foot caught between the tracks,\\nand she could not get it loose. She screamed, and a\\npassing tramp leaped to her aid. He got her free and\\nthrew her off the track just in time but was himself\\ncaught, drawn under the wheels, and instantly killed.\\nHe was a typical tramp in appearance. In the pocket\\nof his ragged coat was found a hand-out luncheon\\nwrapped in paper. No wonder the town gave him an\\nhonorable funeral. Who will say there was not in\\nthat man a vein of human gold worth seeking after\\nand denying oneself in order to save?\\nTHE SICK SOUL.\\nNowhere outside of the Bible is the horrid disease\\nof sin more honestly portrayed than in Shakespeare.\\nHow clearly he brings it out in Hamlet, where he\\nmakes the cruel, wicked queen say\\nTo my sick soul, as sin s true nature is,\\nEach toy seems prologue to some great amiss\\nSo full of artless jealousy is guilt,\\nIt spills itself in fearing to be spilt.\\nTHE SWARM OF BUTTERFLIES.\\nA strange sight was witnessed at Wichita, Kan., on\\none of the hottest of summer days. It was a swarm\\nof brilliant butterflies that for a time filled the air.\\nThe winged travelers were one great mass of brilliant,", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0152.jp2"}, "153": {"fulltext": "PRAYER-MEETING AND SALOON. 143\\nvibrating color. At a short distance they resembled\\na heavy shower of autumn leaves. The fluttering of\\nso many wings produced a somewhat dizzy sensation,\\nand to the observer the passing yellow and brown\\ncloud appeared like the departure of Indian summer.\\nAltho there were countless billions of them, there\\nwas no sound save the gentle and scarcely percepti-\\nble purr. They were several hours in passing. It\\nis supposed that the butterflies were part of a swarm\\ndriven out of Colorado by the forest fires. The world\\nis full of butterflies human butterflies who flee\\nfrom the fires of trial and struggle, and perish in the\\nday when real character is essential.\\nENTERPRISE.\\nYouth ought to be full of enterprise and courage.\\nNothing is more pitiable than to see a young man or\\na young woman without high ideals and noble ambi-\\ntion. Emerson extols the beauty of this daring in\\nyoung manhood\\nOn prince or bride no diamond stone\\nHalf so gracious ever shone\\nAs the light of enterprise\\nBeaming from a young man s eyes.\\nPRAYER-MEETING AND SALOON.\\nIn Dayton, Ohio, lives a plasterer, fifty years old,\\nand father of a large family of children. Liquor has\\nmastered him for a good while. He had choked and\\nbeaten his wife one day and his eldest daughter, who\\nwas twenty years of age, a lovely character, and a de-", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0153.jp2"}, "154": {"fulltext": "144\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nvout member of the church, when she went to prayer-\\nmeeting that night asked her Christian friends to pray\\nfor her father, and offered herself a tearful and touch-\\ning invocation that her parent might change his ways.\\nThe next day the father, after spending two or three\\nhours at the saloon, borrowed a double-barreled shot-\\ngun and returned home with the intention of murder-\\ning the entire household. This daughter was the\\nonly one at home. As she fled, he fired one barrel at\\nthe retreating form, but missed. The second shot\\ntook effect in her head, and she fell dead on the floor.\\nThe murderer then returned to the saloon where he\\nhad obtained the stimulant to do his dastardly deed\\nand related the story of the crime. And yet that\\nsaloon is as much a protected institution of the State\\nas the prayer-meeting the daughter attended the night\\nbefore. How long shall such things be?\\nTROUBLES THAT DO NOT COME.\\nChrist s words, Sufficient unto the day is the evil\\nthereof, need constant repetition and emphasis in a\\nworld so full of trouble as this. It is great folly for\\nus to cut the nerve of our courage to face the daily\\ndifficulties of life by borrowing trouble out of the fu-\\nture. Many such phantoms of trouble vanish into thin\\nair before we get to them. Lettie Bigelow gives us a\\nvery good song concerning these Troubles That do\\nNot Come\\nOf the hard and weary loads\\nNeath which we bend and fall,", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0154.jp2"}, "155": {"fulltext": "CHRISTMAS AND DUTY. 145\\nThe troubles that do not come\\nAre the heaviest ones of all.\\nFor grief that cuts like a knife\\nThere s oil of comfort and cure,\\nAnd the Hand which binds the weight\\nBrings strength and grace to endure.\\nBut for the phantoms of pain and wo\\nThe lips of pity are dumb,\\nAnd there s never oil or wine\\nFor troubles that do not come.\\nThere s a song to lighten the toil,\\nAnd a staff for climbing the height,\\nBut never an alpenstock\\nFor the hills that are out of sight.\\nThere are bitter herbs enough\\nIn the brimming cup of to-day,\\nWithout the sprig of rue\\nFrom to-morrow s unknown way.\\nThen take the meal that is spread,\\nAnd go with a song on thy way,\\nAnd let not the morrow shade\\nThe sunshine and joy of to-day.\\nCHRISTMAS AND DUTY,\\nThe first Christmas message came to the shepherds\\nwhile they were on duty, keeping watch over their\\nflocks. If they had deserted the sheep that night,\\nhow great would have been their loss. The best\\nthings always come to us in the path of duty. He\\nwho goes steadily on, doing the best he can in the\\nplace where he is, living with high motive and doing\\nthe unromantic deed in the romantic spirit, is in the\\nline of promotion in God s world.\\n10", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0155.jp2"}, "156": {"fulltext": "146\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nTHE HEAVENLY ARBUTUS,\\nDr. F. H. Prather sings a beautiful song of The\\nTrailing Arbutus, that dainty, beautiful little flower\\nwhich peeps out from between the falling leaves of\\nthe autumn with the first fragrance of the springtime.\\nHe finds in it a suggestion of the resurrection life of\\nthe Christian:\\nA type here lies\\nOf resurrection power,\\nIn the sweet-scented flower\\nBefore our eyes.\\nThese buds we see\\nAre only clay refined\\nBut oh, the robe of mind\\nWhat shall it be\\nFrom what has been,\\nThe heart can never guess\\nHow glorious the dress\\nUnstained by sin.\\nMy soul is warmed,\\nTo think this dust of ours,\\nLike loam into these flowers,\\nShall be transformed.\\nAnd from the clod,\\nUp through unfriendly storms,\\nAscend, in radiant forms,\\nTo dwell with God.\\nKNOCKING OFF THE SHACKLES.\\nAt the time of the great English victory over the\\nDervishes, at Omdurman, one of the most weird and\\ninteresting experiences was the setting free at night", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0156.jp2"}, "157": {"fulltext": "A QUIET CONVERSION.\\n147\\nof the prisoners of the Khalifa. They were brought\\non board an English steamer to have their chains\\nknocked off. By the light of a lamp the shackles\\nwere cut with a chisel and hammer. As anklet after\\nanklet was struck off for several of the prisoners\\nhad four thick iron rings on each ankle the joy and\\nsatisfaction depicted on the faces of these miserable\\ncaptives was a thing to remember. Among them was\\nIbrahim Pasha Eauzi, who was General Gordon s\\nchief -of- staff, and who had been in chains since Feb-\\nruary, 1885. For thirteen years he had worn these\\ncruel fetters. He was a very fine-looking man of\\nsixty; and as the last link of his shackles fell to the\\nground, he stretched his arms toward the heavens,\\nthanked the great God for his mercy, and called down\\na blessing on his saviors the English. Christ gives\\nit as one of the chief characteristics of his mission\\nthat he is to proclaim liberty to the captives, and\\nthe opening of the prison to them that are bound.\\nIt is our great privilege as Christians to share Christ s\\njoy in setting men free from the shackles of sin.\\nA QUIET CONVERSION,\\nMany Christian people rejoice in an experience like\\nthat of the Apostle Paul, who was struck down with\\nblindness on the way to Damascus, and whose conver-\\nsion was the most sudden and startling episode in his\\nwhole life. But there are others to whom the knowl-\\nedge of Christ as a personal Savior comes more\\nquietly, and with less conscious revolution, and they", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0157.jp2"}, "158": {"fulltext": "148\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\ncan scarcely select the hour, or the day, or it may be\\nthe week, when they entered into the assurance of sal-\\nvation. Some poet, whose name I do not know, pic-\\ntures such an experience in a little poem, entitled The\\nUnnoticed Bound\\nIn passing southward, I may cross the line\\nBetween the Arctic and the Atlantic Ocean.\\nI may not know by any test of mind\\nBy any startling signs or strange commotion\\nAcross my track\\nBut as the days grow brighter, one by one\\nAnd e en the icebergs melt their hardened faces,\\nAnd sailors linger, basking in the sun\\nI know I must have made the change of places\\nSome distance back.\\nThus, answ ring timidly my Master s call,\\nI passed the bourne of life in coming to him,\\nWhen in my love for him I gave up all\\nThe very moment that I thought I knew him\\nI can not tell\\nBut, as increasingly I feel his love,\\nAs this cold heart is melted to o erflowing\\nAnd now so clear the light comes from above\\nI wonder at the change, but move on, knowing\\nThat all is well.\\nBLOOD-POISONING.\\nA hypnotist recently died in San Francisco from\\nblood-poisoning contracted several months before in\\nan attempt to put a cub lion under the spell of his\\npower. The cub rebelled and bit the performer s\\nhand. The victim was confined in a hospital for a\\nwhile, and had been discharged as cured but a slight", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0158.jp2"}, "159": {"fulltext": "RESTING AND WAITING. 149\\nscratch, brought a recurrence of the trouble, which\\nended in his death. Many a man has been bitten\\nfatally by some lion cub of sin which, he has tried to\\nhypnotize in his own strength, and many such an one\\nhas thought himself cured of his sin because for a\\ntime he has been free from it. He has considered it\\na thing of the past until some new temptation has\\naroused the poison, which was dormant in his blood\\nall the time, and he has gone down quickly to com-\\nplete overthrow. Sin is not to be hypnotized. It\\nmust be eradicated. There is one sure cure If we\\nconfess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us\\nour sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.\\nRESTING AND WAITING.\\nHow glorious to come to old age full of hope and\\ncourage, and able to sing the song which Annie M.\\nAustin puts on the lips of one who is\\nOnly resting for a season\\nFrom the labor and the strife\\nOnly waiting for the harvest\\nThat will surely crown my life.\\nI have planted, I have watered,\\nPausing not for rest or sleep\\nPatient toil must bring fruition;\\nI have sown and I shall reap.\\nOnly resting for a season\\nLying here with idle hands,\\nWaiting for my ship that s coming\\nFrom the far-off golden strand.\\nShe is bringing countless treasure\\nAll that I have toiled to win", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0159.jp2"}, "160": {"fulltext": "150\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nI shall quaff from joy s full measure,\\nSometime, When my ship comes in.\\nOnly resting for a season\\nFrom the wearing hopes and fears\\nFrom the burdens and the sorrows\\nThat have gathered with th\u00c2\u00a9 years.\\nOnly resting in the twilight\\nTill the shadows flee away\\nOnly waiting for the dawning\\nOf a better, brighter day.\\nNo more waiting only resting\\nFor life s harvest- time is past\\nAll its golden grain is garnered,\\nAll its full sheaves safe at last.\\nHands that toiled for others helping\\nNow are folded evermore\\nAnd the treasure-ship is anchored\\nClose beside the Shining Shore.\\nA KING AT THE DOOR.\\nThe Emperor William was attending the German\\narmy maneuvers. The army was encamped in a broad\\nvalley, fronting the little town of Bergkirchen, which\\nis on high ground. There was a druggist s shop on\\nthe valley side of the town, from the veranda of\\nwhich there was a good view of the surrounding coun-\\ntry. During the Kaiser s maneuvers the druggist s\\nbell was rung early in the morning, between three\\nand four o clock. The man, aroused from his rest,\\ngot up, went to the front door, and asked: What s\\nup? A voice answered from the outside: Please\\njust let me go on to your veranda; the army corps is", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0160.jp2"}, "161": {"fulltext": "DREAMING OF HOME.\\n151\\ngoing to be alarmed, and I should like to see it from\\nthere. The druggist, astonished, refused the request\\nin rough language. His wife, who had meanwhile\\nalso awakened, added her stern rebuke to the intruder.\\nThe man standing outside, however, did not seem to\\nmind, and repeated his request. Finally the druggist\\ncalled out: Well, who are you? What s your\\nname? Wilhelm, came promptly back. Iam\\nno wiser than I was. Lots of people are called Wil-\\nhelm. What is your other name Yon Hohenzol-\\nlern, the voice replied. Only now did it begin to\\ndawn upon the druggist who his visitor was. He tore\\nopen the door and before him stood the Emperor.\\nOne can imagine his dismay and shame. But many\\nthere are who just as ignorantly and angrily are keep-\\ning the King of kings waiting at their door. Jesus\\nsays: Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if\\nany man hear my voice, and open the door, I will\\ncome in to him, and will sup with him, and he with\\nme.\\nDREAMING OF HOME.\\nMany a man who has fought his way bravely\\nthrough the hard battles of life has had his hours of\\nlonging, when Eugene Field s poem, Dreaming of\\nHome, expressed the sweetness of his own anticipa-\\ntions\\nWhen I go home again There s music\\nThat never may die away,\\nAnd it seems the hands of angels,\\nOn a mystic harp at play,", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0161.jp2"}, "162": {"fulltext": "152\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nHave touched with a yearning sadness,\\nOn a beautiful broken strain,\\nTo which my fond heart is wording,\\nWhen I go home again.\\nOutside of my darkened window\\nIs the great world s crash and din,\\nAnd slowly the autumn shadows\\nCome drifting, drifting in\\nSobbing the night-wind murmurs\\nTo the splash of the autumn rain\\nBut I dream of the glorious greeting\\nWhen I go home again\\nTHE SOLDIER S HARDIHOOD.\\nAn English officer who has seen a great deal of serv-\\nice in Egypt declares that where a soldier is on active\\nservice he gets so tit that it does not matter much\\nwhat he eats and he does not care. He is hungry,\\nand he takes whatever comes. On battle days one\\noften will not touch a bite of food all day. He says\\nthat in constant service the muscles become so strong\\nthat a man can go many hours without food, and will\\neat what he would never think of accepting without\\nprotest if he were not on active service. There is\\nhere a good suggestion for Christian soldiers. If we\\nare giving ourselves up to the service of humanity,\\nworking with all our might to help capture the world\\nfor Christ, we will not be worrying or complaining\\nabout the kind of spiritual fare the Lord gives us.\\nThere will be in our service something so delightful\\nthat its inspiration will give us zest and an appetite\\nthat will furnish abundant digestion for the plain ex-", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0162.jp2"}, "163": {"fulltext": "THE PEARL-FIELDS.\\n153\\nperiences of our daily life. It is the people who are\\nlying around camp, doing nothing except morbidly\\ninspecting their own hearts, who are always getting\\ninto trouble over their religious experience. The\\ngreat fighters in the army of Christ never have any\\ntrouble with the commissary department.\\nLOVE,\\nLove s kingdom covers all seasons and all ages.\\nWilf ord Campbell has a poem suggesting how in youth\\nand age love meets our human wants\\nLove came at dawn, when all the world was fair,\\nWhen crimson glories bloomed and songs were rife\\nLove came at dawn, when hope s wings fanned the air,\\nAnd murmured, I am life.\\nLove came at even, when the day was done,\\nWhen heart and brain were tired and slumber pressed\\nLove came at eve, shut out the sinking sun,\\nAnd whispered, I am rest.\\nTHE PEARL-FIELDS,\\nA rare opportunity for gathering rich pearls has\\nbeen discovered off the west coast of the colony of\\nNew Caledonia. The pearls on the ocean-bed along\\nthis coast are very abundant and beautiful. They are\\ngenerally white and of a beautiful water. Fre-\\nquently, however, they are pink, gray, or black, and\\na number are often found in the same shell. The dis-\\ncovery of a new pearl-field can not help but suggest\\nto the thoughtful Christian Christ s comparison of the\\nsoul s salvation to a precious and costly pearl. The", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0163.jp2"}, "164": {"fulltext": "154\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nSavior says The kingdom of heaven is like unto a\\nmerchantman, seeking goodly pearls who, when he\\nhad found one pearl of great price, went and sold all\\nthat he had, and bought it. These spiritual pearl-\\nfields are rich and abundant in all our large towns\\nand cities. The spiritual pearl-diver will also find\\npearls of many kinds, but all of them beautiful in the\\neyes of his Lord. He will find, too, many a home\\nshell with numerous pearls in it, where father, mother,\\nand children may all be won as priceless jewels for\\nhis Master.\\nTHE HAND OF JESUS.\\nChrist came close to people during his earthly min-\\nistry, and his hand of help or mercy was often in evi-\\ndence. Katherine Purvis sings a beautiful song, en-\\ntitled My Savior s Hand\\nThat tender hand in dark Gethsemane\\nKaised in the prayer, Thy will, not mine, be done\\nWas torn and bleeding in the agony\\nThrough which my guilty soul salvation won.\\nThat chastening hand sometimes doth sorely rest\\nUpon me while the storms of sorrow fall,\\nYet draws me till I lean upon his breast,\\nAud find in him my strength, my hope, my all.\\nThat guiding hand leads me from day to day,\\nAnd smooths my path across earth s desert drear;\\nIt holds me fast my sure and only stay\\nAs life recedes, and heaven s lights appear.\\nOh, loving hand, when shadows deepen fast,\\nAnd in the gloom I hear death s billows foam,\\nDraw me so near my eyes rest at the last\\nUpon the face of him who bears me home", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0164.jp2"}, "165": {"fulltext": "ONE BY ONE.\\n155\\nVICTORY OVER COWARDICE.\\nSir Charles Napier had an effective method of deal-\\ning with cowards. On one occasion a flying soldier\\nwas stopped by his fellows, who were about to shoot\\nhim, when the general intervened. Give the man\\nanother chance, he ordered. Place him in the\\nfront rank, and if he turns again let him be shot.\\nThe man eagerly embraced this chance of life, over-\\ncame his fears, and ever fought bravely afterward.\\nThere goes the bravest man in the army, said the\\nold Kaiser Wilhelm, on the battlefield of Sadowa, as\\na pale young officer cheered his men on to the charge.\\nHe is terribly afraid of being shot, and he knows it,\\nbut he loves his duty and country more than his per-\\nsonal safety, and that is what makes him lead his\\nmen on so gallantly. That is the highest kind of\\nbravery. No man should give himself up to be a\\nmoral coward because in the past he has failed of\\nstanding bravely for the right. Let him nerve him-\\nself by recalling Christ s supreme sacrifice for him.\\nIf a man can bring Christ s cross close to himself and\\nrealize that his suffering was in his behalf, there is a\\npower in it to make him brave and heroic.\\nONE BY ONE.\\nFanny Crosby, the blind hymn-writer, on the death\\nof Dr. Robert Lowry, who was her dear friend, wrote\\na little hymn, entitled One by One, which will ex-\\npress the feelings of many of us concerning our own\\nloved ones. How glorious is the Christian s hope", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0165.jp2"}, "166": {"fulltext": "156\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nwhen standing by the grave of his friend he is able to\\nsing\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nThey have reached the land of promise,\\nWith the faithful gone before\\nSafe within the Golden City\\nThey shall dwell forevermore.\\nThrough the Savior they have conquered\\nAnd their lifework now is done;\\nAt the river tranquil river\\nThey are gathering, one by one\\nFEAR AND BLESSING.\\nWhen the angels came with their good tidings of\\ngreat joy, the first effect on the listening shepherds\\nwas to frighten them. If the sky had been full of\\nghosts, they would not have been more alarmed, and\\nperhaps that is what they thought was the fact\\nWhen Jesus came walking on the water in the midst\\nof the storm which threatened his disciples with ship\\nwreck, they, too, were afraid and thought they be\\nheld a ghost. But how changed were their feeling\\nwhen his loving voice uttered the assuring words\\nIt is I be not afraid People are often fright\\nened in these days at the coming of heaven s messen\\ngers with good tidings. Many a great blessing comes\\nto us in unexpected guise, and when we first see it we\\nare alarmed. We should have such abiding faith in\\nthe kindness of God toward us and in his ability to\\ncare for us as to know that no harm can come to us in\\nthis world. Christmas should teach us to have hope\\nnot fear, of God s providence. The new mercies of", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0166.jp2"}, "167": {"fulltext": "THE HEROIC TEMPER.\\n157\\nGod which, shall come every morning are more than a\\nmatch for the new trials we shall have to confront.\\nMEMORIES OF MOTHER.\\nMany a white-haired man will find an echo in his\\nheart to Betty Garland s When My Mother Tucks\\nMe In, and be ready to join her in the petition of the\\nlast two verses\\nNow the stricken years have borne me\\nFar away from love and home\\nAh no mother leans above me\\nIn the nights that go and come.\\nBut it gives me peace and comfort,\\nWhen my heart is sore within,\\nJust to lie right still and, dreaming,\\nThink my mother tucked me in.\\nOh, the gentle, gentle breathing\\nTo her dear heart s softer beat\\nAnd the quiet, quiet moving\\nOf her soft-shod, willing feet\\nAnd, O Time, one boon I ask thee,\\nWhatsoe er may be my sin,\\nWhen I m dying let me see her\\nAs she used to tuck me in.\\nTHE HEROIC TEMPER.\\nProfessor Nasse, a well-known man of learning in\\nBerlin, was traveling in the Alps with Dr. Borchardt,\\nof the same city, and two guides. The four men,\\nroped together, were crossing over a snow-bridge\\nwhich was considered safe by the guides. The bridge", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0167.jp2"}, "168": {"fulltext": "158\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\ngave way, and the leading guide and Professor Nasse\\nfell into a crevasse. Professor Nasse had the rope\\naround his chest and hung in mid-air. A half -hour\\nlater, to relieve this awful strain and to give a possi-\\nble chance for saving the life intrusted to him, the\\nguide cut the rope between himself and Professor\\nNasse, and disappeared into the depths. The other\\nguide and Dr. Borchardt were then able to pull Pro-\\nfessor Nasse up. It is cheering to know that the\\nguide who so bravely offered his life was not killed,\\nbut was found unhurt by the rescue party. This\\nguide was a great hero. Christianity calls upon us to\\nlive ever in that heroic temper which holds earthly\\nthings and even the earthly life itself with an easy\\ngrasp, which we are ready to loosen rather than to fail\\nof fidelity to truth and goodness. We may never be\\nasked any great sacrifice, but if we live in that spirit\\nof willingness to surrender everything rather than\\nprove treacherous to Christ, we are Christian heroes.\\nEASTER LILIES.\\nThose who have lost sweet lilies out of their homes\\nmay take comfort in this song of Amelia Barr s\\nThe Master is seeking lilies to-day,\\nAnd he bends his steps to the lotus stream\\nGolden-hearted, and pale, they lay,\\nFull of wonderful peace like a holy dream.\\nCalm-browed women, over whom the Dove\\nBroodeth in still perpetual love,\\nWatching and waiting with patient eyes\\nAnd he gathered them first for Paradise.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0168.jp2"}, "169": {"fulltext": "APPRECIATING VALUES.\\n159\\nThen he paused where the sunshine was warm and bright,\\nAnd the glorious lilies of Judah s land\\nIn the heaven s own purple, the saints own white,\\nBent lowly and lovingly down to his hand.\\nEoyal natures, unselfish and pure,\\nStrong to contend and strong to endure,\\nThe Master doth need you, that will suffice,\\nWhether on earth or in Paradise.\\nStoopeth he now mong the long dewy grass,\\nAnd sweet little lily-bells folds to his breast\\nAh, how he loves them yet with grudging, alas\\nWe give to the Master the flowers he loves best.\\nFrail wee blossoms not fit for the strife,\\nThe sorrow and pains of mortal life\\nYet somewhere, we know, beyond the skies,\\nThe lily-bells bloom in Paradise.\\nWe see, but we see through our tears and sighs\\nThe parable sweet is but dimly read,\\nElse to the heavens we should lift our eyes,\\nNever bemoaning our loved as dead.\\nThe fairest blossom in all our home\\nSuddenly fades from our loving eyes\\nDead? No, for the Lord hath only come\\nFor lilies to plant in Paradise.\\nAPPRECIATING VALUES,\\nA Southern newspaper tells a story of a woman who\\nhad no idea of the value of money. It happened one\\nday that her eyes fell upon a magnificent ring, and\\nshe coveted it. The price of the ring was one thou-\\nsand dollars. But what was one thousand dollars to\\nher in comparison to the ring? Her husband con-\\nsented to the purchase but he took an interesting\\nmethod of educating his wife concerning the great", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0169.jp2"}, "170": {"fulltext": "160\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nprice of the ring. He instructed his banker to send\\nher the one thousand dollars in small pieces pennies,\\ndimes, quarters. In came the money, bagful after\\nbagful. She never had such an idea of one thousand\\ndollars before. When the money was piled before\\nher, it alarmed her the price of the ring went up in\\nher estimation a hundredfold, and was considered at\\nonce an extravagance which she of her own option\\nabandoned. If we could always appreciate the value\\nof money in the light and comfort and hope which it\\nmay bring souls in darkness and trouble, it would\\ncheck many a selfish purchase, and give us a more just\\nidea of the trusteeship by which we hold our money.\\nEVIL IMAGINATIONS.\\nIn Macbeth Shakespeare shows how the imagina-\\ntion becomes an instrument in the hand of conscience\\nto administer punishment to the sinning soul\\nIf good, why do I yield to that suggestion\\nWhose horrid image doth unfix my hair,\\nAnd make my seated heart knock at my ribs,\\nAgainst the use of nature? Present fears\\nAre less than horrible imaginings.\\nTHE SKYLARK.\\nHe s got a good broad cap, strong face, nice\\nfull breast. I ll warrant him, said the dealer. The\\ncreature thus summed up was not a pony or a dog,\\nbut an English skylark. Brave little fellow, he had\\nbeen caught in some snare on his native meadow, had\\ntraveled in his jail across land and sea, and is now put", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0170.jp2"}, "171": {"fulltext": "THE NARROW MARGIN. 161\\ninto a brown-paper bag, to be carried as unceremoni-\\nously as a pint of peanuts to a dark restaurant on a\\nnarrow street; but he will not lose his courage. Give\\nhim six inches of turf on the bottom of his cage and\\na glint of sunshine at the window, and he will stand\\non his tiptoes and sing until all the street will catch\\nsomething of the heavenly enthusiasm of his music.\\nMen and women who love Christmas, and have caught\\nthe Christmas spirit in their hearts, should carry it\\nwith them into all the dark places of life, sweetening\\nand blessing and inspiring as they go.\\nTHE NARROW MARGIN.\\nOn the night of Christ s last supper with his dis-\\nciples, when he said to them that one of their group\\nwas to betray him, they turned in horror, inquiring\\nLord, is it I? That there is that in us which\\nmakes us akin both to the good man and the bad man,\\nof both the lowest and the highest qualit} James\\nEussell Lowell brings out clearly in these lines\\nLooking within myself, I note how thin\\nA plank of station, chance, or prosperous fate,\\nDoth fence me from the clutching waves of sin\\nIn my own heart I find the worst man s mate,\\nAnd see not dimly the smooth-hinged gate\\nThat opes to those abysses\\nWhere ye grope darkly, ye who never knew\\nOn your young hearts love s consecrating dew,\\nOr felt a mother s kisses,\\nOr home s restraining tendrils round you curled\\nAh, side by side with heartsease, in this world\\nThe fatal nightshade grows and bitter rue\\n11", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0171.jp2"}, "172": {"fulltext": "162\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nTHE PASSING OF TIME.\\nIn Switzerland they have commenced making phono-\\ngraphic clocks and watches which surpass anything\\nheretofore attempted. By merely pressing the button\\nof the new timepiece it pronounces the hour distinctly.\\nThe alarm calls to the sleeper: It s six o clock; get\\nup There are some which even add the words\\nNow, don t goto sleep again. The form can be\\nchanged to suit the buyer and make the warning\\nmore or less emphatic. And yet it is doubtful whether\\nsuch an ingenious clock would be more than a tem-\\nporary help in arousing a sluggish man. If we do\\nnot properly estimate the value of time, and have no\\nabiding monitor within us to which we give heed, the\\noutward alarm will be of little avail. People who\\nare waiting for some strange cry from heaven to call\\nthem to repentance will also wait in vain. They have\\ntheir own consciences, and they have God s Word;\\nand if they will not hear these, they would not hear\\na messenger from the skies. Father Abraham said\\nto Dives, in the Gospel story, when urged to send\\nsomebody to warn his brethren If they hear not\\nMoses and the prophets, neither will they be per-\\nsuaded, tho one rose from the dead.\\nDO IT TO-DAY.\\nMany hearts break because the sympathy which is\\nfelt and the kind word which rises for utterance never\\nfind expression, being deferred until another occasion.\\nLet us not put off the duty which ought to be done", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0172.jp2"}, "173": {"fulltext": "THE HOME SPIRIT.\\n163\\nnow. Some unknown poet impresses this message\\nvery clearly in a poem, entitled When I Have\\nTime\\nWhen I have time so many things I ll do\\nTo make life happier and more fair\\nFor those whose lives are crowded now with care\\nI ll help to lift them from their low despair,\\nWhen I have time.\\nWhen I have time the friend I love so well\\nShall know no more these weary, toiling days\\nI ll lead her feet in pleasant paths always,\\nAnd cheer her heart with words of sweetest praise,\\nWhen I have time.\\nWhen you have time The friend you hold so dear\\nMay be beyond the reach of all your sweet intent,\\nMay never know that you so kindly meant\\nTo fill her life with sweet content,\\nWhen you had time.\\nNow is the time Ah, friend, no longer wait\\nTo scatter loving smiles and words of cheer\\nTo those around whose lives are now so dear\\nThey may not need you in the coming year\\nNow is the time.\\nTHE HOME SPIRIT.\\nA volunteer from Albany, 1ST. Y., who was in Hono-\\nlulu, found the food unbearable as he was recovering\\nfrom a slight illness, and felt an irresistible longing\\nfor dainties of some kind. After some thought, he\\nconcluded that he wanted a jar of jelly more than\\nanything else that he could think of. He remem-\\nbered the currant jelly which his mother used to\\nmake, and his mouth watered at the recollection. So", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0173.jp2"}, "174": {"fulltext": "164\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nhe took some money out of his small store and went\\ninto the city to buy. He picked out a confectioner s\\nshop, and, going in, asked for a glass of jelly cur-\\nrant jelly preferred, if they had such a thing. To his\\nsurprise and delight the man behind the counter pro-\\nduced a glass of the very kind that he wanted. He\\nbought it at once, it looked and tasted so much like\\nhis mother s. And sure enough, when he examined\\nthe jar, on the bottom was pasted a piece of white\\npaper with some writing on it. Imagine his surprise\\nwhen he saw that the writing, which was somewhat\\nblurred, was the name of his own mother. But it is\\nnot only in the cooking that the true mother puts her\\nstamp on her boy. If the home is prayerful and rev-\\nerent toward God, a child may wander to the ends of\\nthe earth but in some unexpected hour of loneliness\\nand homesickness the memory of mother s hymns or\\nprayers will move the wanderer to seek again the\\nhouse of God, where he may find the spirit which pre-\\nvailed in his childhood s home.\\nTHE ANGEL ON THE STONE.\\nWilliam Canton sings a song of Easter Dawn,\\nwhich fathers and mothers who have lost little chil-\\ndren out of their arms will know how to appreciate.\\nAnd all of them who love Jesus and trust him shall\\nhave the prayer answered\\nLove sought Thee in the darkness ere the day\\nLove came with spices, weeping, full of care.\\nThe stone which closed thy tomb was rolled away\\nBut thou thou wast not there.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0174.jp2"}, "175": {"fulltext": "FORMALITY.\\n165\\nLove found thy winding-sheet, and, laid apart,\\nThy face-cloth wrapped together these alone\\nAnd saw an angel\u00e2\u0080\u0094 saw with trembling heart\\nAn angel on the stone.\\nLove heard thy footsteps turned with streaming eyes,\\nBeheld, but knew thee not, till, low and sweet,\\nThy voice revealed thee then, with joyous cries,\\nFell down and clasped thy feet.\\nrisen Lord, by thy transpierced heart,\\nAnd by the dawn of that first Easter Day.\\nThe winding-sheet, the face-cloth laid apart,\\nThe grave-stone rolled away\\n1 pray thee, in the darkness where I lie,\\nNot for a vision in the morning sun,\\nNot for a word that I may know him by\\n(Not know my little one?)\\nBut only this, this only of thy grace,\\nO risen Lord, this little thing alone\\nShow me his little grave quite empty, and in place\\nAn angel on the stone.\\nFORMALITY.\\nA City of Zinc is the name which, may appro-\\npriately be given to a new city of Portuguese East\\nAfrica Beira. All the houses, all the hotels and\\npublic buildings, barracks and warehouses, are built\\nof zinc. So great has been the speculation in build-\\ning, and so urgent the need for supplying the inhabi-\\ntants with cheap and speedily erected dwellings, that\\na city has been built up in six months. Thousands\\nof tons of zinc from France, England, and America\\nsupplied the material. The unpleasant impression\\nproduced by the aspect of this zinc town is height-", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0175.jp2"}, "176": {"fulltext": "166\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nened by the thought that men have to dwell in these\\nhouses under a tropical heat. Everything in this\\nstrange city is under the dominion of the metal.\\nEven when a person falls ill he is carried on a zinc\\nstretcher to a hospital which is also, of course, made\\nof zinc. And if he dies, he is laid to rest in a zinc\\ncoffin. This reminds me of some churches I have\\nknown, where everything was so cold and formal and\\nstiff that all thought of love and religious enthusiasm\\nwas chilled out of existence. A formal usher showed\\nthe worshiper into a fashionable pew, where he lis-\\ntened to music esthetically but coldly rendered, and\\nto prayers and sermons scholarly, but coldly deliv-\\nered, and retired at the close of the service feeling\\nvery much like a man on his zinc cot in a zinc hos-\\npital. A lady recently said, when asked what kind\\nof a preacher she liked One with the chill off.\\nAnd the chill must be taken off the church, from\\nusher to pulpit, if souls are to be converted in it.\\nThese zinc churches are the greatest stumbling-blocks\\nin the earth in the way of Christian conquest.\\nSONG OF IMMORTALITY.\\nElizabeth Loe Watson sings a sweet song of Easter,\\nwith the testimony of nature bearing witness to the\\nsoul and suggesting the more splendid blossoming of\\nthe heavenly springtime\\nArise arise O Soul, and sing\\nThe Lord of Life hath come in might;\\nAnd all the world is blossoming\\nBeneath his kiss of love and light", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0176.jp2"}, "177": {"fulltext": "TRAINING BIRDS TO SING. 167\\nThe hills doff robes of rusty brown,\\nAnd, draped in living tapestries,\\nWith sunshine for a golden crown,\\nEeturn the smiles of cloudless skies.\\nThe air is full of winged delight,\\nA-thrill with joy the dullest clod,\\nThe trees, all hung with garlands white,\\nBreathe smokeless incense unto God.\\nAnd thou, Soul, with eyes to see,\\nAnd ears that like fine harps are strung,\\nWith heart that thrones Divinity\\nAnd knows Love s universal tongue,\\nShouldst voice a rapture all divine,\\nAnd fair as any flower be\\nThe garments that about thee shine,\\nThou heir of immortality\\nTRAINING BIRDS TO SING.\\nIn a little town in New Jersey there is a man who\\nhas a bird-training organ. It stands as high as an\\nold-time clock, and the air is forced through the pipes\\nby means of weights similar to the weights in a clock s\\nworks. The singers that are being trained are kept\\nin cloth-covered boxes with the curtains pulled down.\\nThey learn to sing best in the dark. They will learn\\nto sing all the tunes played by the organ. They be-\\ncome so trained in the music taught them that they\\nseldom improvise. Just as the mocking-bird imitates\\nby nature such tunes as he hears, the canary will sing\\nany air he is schooled in. The Lord is teaching us to\\nsing the heavenly songs. Many of them we must\\nlearn in the dark. We should also be careful to", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0177.jp2"}, "178": {"fulltext": "168\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nchoose such associations as will not interfere with the\\ndivine tunes of the Christian life in which we are\\nseeking to perfect ourselves.\\nGOD S ANGELS.\\nGod s angels oftentimes come to men disguised. It\\nwas so in olden times, and it is so now. Lowell sings\\nof some of these disguises\\nBut all God s angels come to us disguised\\nSorrow and sickness, poverty and death,\\nOne after other lift their frowning masks,\\nAnd we behold the seraph s face beneath,\\nAll radiant with the glory and the calm\\nOf having looked upon the front of God.\\nTHE LIGHT WE SHED.\\nAmerican lanterns are exported to all countries of\\nthe world where lanterns are used. Many are sent\\nto South Africa, and to South America, to Australia\\nand New Zealand, and not a few are sold in Asia.\\nThe American lanterns are the lightest, the sightliest\\nin appearance, and the best adapted to their use, and\\nthey are sold cheaper than lanterns of equal quality\\nproduced elsewhere. There are a number of large\\nestablishments in this country making lanterns only.\\nIt is interesting, this fact that American lanterns lead\\nthe world. It will certainly be because we fail to do\\nour duty if we do not lead the world in giving light\\nof an intellectual and moral quality. We have no\\nright to hide the light which God has given us by his", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0178.jp2"}, "179": {"fulltext": "FELLOWSHIP WITH JESUS.\\n169\\nprovidence, but we are debtors to every ignorant and\\nheathen nation in the world until we have given them\\nthe light of intelligence and the light of the Gospel\\nmessage which is so precious to us. Christ is saying\\nto us as to the early disciples Ye are the light of\\nthe world. A city that is set on a hill can not be hid.\\nNeither do men light a candle, and put it under a\\nbushel, but on a candlestick and it giveth light unto\\nall that are in the house. Let your light so shine be-\\nfore men, that they may see your good works, and\\nglorify your Father which is in heaven. 99\\nFELLOWSHIP WITH JESUS.\\nAn old Huguenot hymn expresses with great ten-\\nderness the precious fellowship which exists between\\nChrist and his friends\\nI have a Friend so precious,\\nSo very dear to me,\\nHe loves me with such tender love,\\nHe loves so faithfully,\\nI could not live apart from him,\\nI love to feel him nigh,\\nAnd so we dwell together,\\nMy Lord and I.\\nSometimes I m faint and weary,\\nHe knows that I am weak.\\nAnd as he bide me lean on him,\\nHis help I gladly seek\\nHe leads me in the paths of light\\nBeneath a sunny sky,\\nAnd so we walk together,\\nMy Lord and I.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0179.jp2"}, "180": {"fulltext": "170\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nHOMESICKNESS,\\nOne man from the colored troops on the fighting-\\nline at Santiago was brought into the field hospital,\\nnot wounded, but stunned by the explosion of a shell\\nwhich had fallen near him. There was nothing the\\nmatter with him but the shock to his nerves and home-\\nsickness. He spoke to no one, he would take no food\\nand he sat huddled together on his cot, looking out\\nfrom the open flies of the hospital tent with a face\\nfull of unspeakable loneliness. Every morning, when\\nshe came to the hospital, a kind woman visitor among\\nthe Red Cross nurses would bring him some little\\nthing which she had prepared for him at home little\\nby little she awakened his interest, and finally he was\\ndismissed from the hospital happy and well. Alas, in\\nall cases the remedy is not at hand One of the army\\nsurgeons tells the story of a poor boy who was simply\\ndying of homesickness. The doctor stopped by him\\none day, where he was sitting with his face in his\\nhands, and put his hand on his shoulder and spoke a\\nword or two, and the poor fellow looked up and said\\nYou are the first one that s spoken a kind word to\\nme since I came. But the major was a hard man,\\nand thought the man was only lazy, and hunted the\\npoor chap out of the hospital and set him to work\\nloading stuff in the commissary department. That\\nafternoon the doctor came across him sitting on a\\nsack of grain with his head down, and noticed that he\\nhad slumped forward. He laid hold of him and\\nfound that he was dead. He had died of homesick-", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0180.jp2"}, "181": {"fulltext": "ANGELIC MESSENGERS.\\n171\\nness. Workers in city churches ought never to lose\\nsight of the fact that every autumn multitudes of\\nyoung men and young women are skimmed off the\\nbest quality of life of the farms and smaller towns,\\nand are worked into the makeup of the city business\\nhouses. These young people have weeks and months\\nof homesickness and loneliness, during which time\\nthey are peculiarly susceptible to friendly influences,\\nwhether good or bad. It is the great harvest oppor-\\ntunity for the church. A cheerful happy Christian,\\nfull of the spirit of brotherhood, can make sure of his\\narmful of sheaves by giving kindly attention to these\\nhomesick young men and young women.\\nANGELIC MESSENGERS.\\nIt is sweet to believe that the dwellers in the skies\\ncome on loving service to us in the midst of our strug-\\ngles here on earth. And it is certainly in harmony\\nwith God s Word and with the spirit of the mission\\nof Him who was rich, and yet for our sake became\\npoor. Edmund Spenser tells of these comforting\\nvisitants in these lines\\nHow oft do they their silver bowers leave,\\nAnd come to succor us who succor want?\\nHow oft do they with golden pinions cleave\\nThe flitting skies, like flying pursuivant,\\nAgainst foul fiends, to aid us militant?\\nThey for us fight, they watch, and duly ward,\\nAnd their bright squadrons round about us plant,\\nAnd all for love, and nothing for reward\\nOh, why should heavenly God to men have such regard", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0181.jp2"}, "182": {"fulltext": "172\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nTHE GUERRILLA WARFARE OF THE TONGUE,\\nA good story is told of Lady Curzon, the wife of the\\nnew Viceroy of India. The story is of the days when\\nshe was Miss Leiter, of Washington, and tells of the\\nblow she gave to gossip. Three sisters, brilliant, bnt\\nnnscrnpulous, noted for their witty, mischievous\\ntongues, had a way of making up stories and attach-\\ning them to any one who chanced to offend them.\\nOne of these malicious stories was being rehearsed in\\nMiss Leiter s presence, and fair names were about to\\nbe blackened. Did the Misses say that? she\\nasked. The narrator admitted them as her authority.\\nMiss Leiter sighed, and said slowly Battle, murder,\\nand sudden death. From that day to this the girls\\ncomposing the mischievous trio have been known\\nas Battle, Murder, and Sudden Death. The\\nyoung lady surely used her lance to good effect. And\\nthere is no braver or more important duty for good\\nmen and good women than to strike down these assas-\\nsins of character.\\nEVIL THOUGHTS,\\nZitella Cocke describes the power of evil thoughts\\nin a suggestive song entitled A Pirate Chief.\\nO coward soul, human heart,\\nWhy dost thou shrink? Why dost thou start?\\nAlas too plain thy cause for fear\\nA Pirate Chief is lurking near.\\nGuard well thy gate if he should win,\\nHe lets a thousand robbers in.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0182.jp2"}, "183": {"fulltext": "WORMS IN THE BOOKS.\\n173\\nFor Evil Thought ne er called in vain\\nOn those who follow in his train\\nAye, watch thee well, lest barriers fail\\nBuild higher walls than he may scale\\nWho sees thy weakness but to dare\\nTo compass thee by might and snare\\nWho notes each rampart, marks each tower,\\nThat would defy his pirate power,\\nAnd challenges each sentinel\\nThat guards the fast-shut citadel.\\nWith cunning speech for virtue meet,\\nAnd guise of beauty s fair deceit\\nWith sweet, persuasive blandishment\\nHe masks the face of 111 Intent,\\nAnd softly, subtly woos until\\nThe stalwart warrior, giant Will,\\nInert through many a conflict fought,\\nUnbars the door to Evil Thought\\nDost hope the bandit horde to stay\\nWhere once their chief hath won his way?\\nToo late the watchman wakes and calls,\\nWhen open gate and crumbling walls\\nHave let his hosts of robbers in\\nTo work their deeds of shame and sin\\nBrave heart, build high the strong redoubt,\\nWhich keeps the Pirate Chieftain out\\nWORMS IN THE BOOKS.\\nBookworms are a species of delicate but destructive\\nmaggot. The traces of their devastation of rare books,\\nwhich wring the heart of the collector, are common,\\nwhile they are rarely seen in the flesh. Father O Con-\\nnor, an inquisitive lover of books, has studied under", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0183.jp2"}, "184": {"fulltext": "174\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nthe microscope no fewer than seventy-two specimens\\nof insects destructive of books, and has given designs\\nof many, as well as much curious information con-\\ncerning them. But, after all, these worms only eat\\ninto the paper itself, while the worms that infest a\\ngreat many modern books are in the printed matter\\nof the text, and eat into the mind and heart of the\\npeople who read them. There is no more solemn re-\\nsponsibility resting upon pastors and parents and\\nteachers than to keep an eye open for the defense of\\nyouth from the worms in the books.\\nTHE CARPENTER CHRIST.\\nThe working man should be quick to take the Hand\\nthat was rough with the hard usage of toil, and yet\\ngave itself gladly to be nailed to the cross for its\\nbrethren. Archibald MacMechan sings of the toiling\\nChrist in his little poem, His Hand was Eough\\nHis hand was rough and his hand was hard,\\nFor he wrought in wood, in Nazareth town\\nWith naught of worship, with no regard,\\nIn the village street he went up and down.\\nHis hand was rough, but its touch was light,\\nAs it lay on the eyes of him born blind\\nOr strake sick folk in its healing might,\\nAnd gave back joy to the hearts that pined.\\nHis hand was hard, but they spiked it fast\\nTo the splintering wood of the cursed tree\\nAnd he hung in the sight of the world, at last,\\nIn his shame. And the red blood trickled free.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0184.jp2"}, "185": {"fulltext": "CHRIST AND FAILURE.\\n175\\nFIGHTING AGAINST POVERTY.\\nEx-Secretary of State Day, in giving his experience\\nto a friend in Canton, Ohio, as he was about taking up\\nhis responsibilities as chairman of the Peace Commis-\\nsion, spoke of the momentous scene at the White\\nHouse when the peace protocol between the United\\nStates and Spain was signed. While the great his-\\ntorical event was passing, Judge Day said his mind\\nwent back thirty years, to the time he first met Presi-\\ndent McKinley. Both had recently come to Canton\\nto practise law, and were employed on the opposite\\nsides of a case that involved less than twenty dollars.\\nIt was tried before a country justice of the peace, in\\na blacksmith shop at a distance of many miles from\\nCanton, and to save expense the opposing counsel\\ndrove there in the same buggy. Thirty years later\\nthey stood together as the chief figures in the diplo-\\nmatic negotiations that closed a war, one as President\\nand the other as Secretary of State. The fight for\\nsuccess in every great and strong life is a fight against\\nhumiliating difficulties that must be conquered by\\nprudence and economy, those old and homely virtues\\nwhich every boy and girl must learn anew and prac-\\ntise in the building of their own lives.\\nCHRIST AND FAILURE*\\nIt is a comforting thing to know that Christ knows\\nall our circumstances, and that in his clear eyes the\\nfailure of an honest worker is more precious than the", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0185.jp2"}, "186": {"fulltext": "176\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nsuccess of an untrue man. Eosa Mulholland sings of\\nsuch, failure\\nWith empty hands I shall rise to meet him,\\nAnd, when he looks for the fruits of years,\\nNothing have I to lay before him\\nBut broken efforts and bitter tears.\\nYet when he calls I fain would hasten\\nMine eyes are dim and their light is gone\\nAnd I am as weary as tho I carried\\nA burden of beautiful work well done.\\nI will fold my empty hands on my bosom,\\nMeekly thus in the shape of his cross\\nAnd the Lord who made them frail and feeble\\nMaybe will pity their strife and loss.\\nFOLLY OF FLATTERY.\\nIn Windsor Castle there is a suite of rooms for the\\nuse of the Queen s chaplain. A private passage con-\\nnects the chaplain s study with the Queen s apart-\\nments, and she frequently repairs there to consult\\nhim on important matters. One day, as the Queen\\nwas returning to her apartments after an interview, a\\nparrot called out some words in a cross tone of voice\\nfrom its cage in the passage. Failing to understand\\nthe sounds, the Queen turned to the chaplain and\\nasked: What is the parrot saying? With much\\nembarrassment he replied: If you please, your Maj-\\nesty, I would rather not repeat it. But what was\\nit? she said. Something, I fear, your Majesty will\\nnot like therefore I hope your Majesty will excuse\\nme from telling it. The Queen s curiosity was now", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0186.jp2"}, "187": {"fulltext": "EASTER DAY.\\n177\\nthoroughly aroused, and she said: Come, I insist.\\nThe chaplain bowed low and made answer Since\\nyour Majesty insists, the parrot said, Go along, you\\nugly old woman Queen Victoria laughed heartily\\nas she said Well, I am glad there is at least one\\nvoice in the kingdom which is not afraid to tell me\\nwhat it thinks of me. Many preachers of our day\\nare making the fatal blunder of preaching to people a\\ngospel out of which is carefully eradicated the sharp,\\nkeen sword of God s Word, which would pierce the\\nconsciences of their hearers and convict them of sin.\\nThere never was a time when there was more need of\\nNathan s example in dealing with David, when he de-\\nscribed the sin and aroused the sinner, and looked\\nhim straight in the eye and said Thou art the man\\nEASTER DAY.\\nChrist came to make all things new. Christina\\nKossetti sings beautifully of the burst of spring in\\nnature and in the soul.\\nSpring bursts to-day,\\nFor Christ is risen and all the earth s at play.\\nFlash forth the sun,\\nThe rain is over and gone, its work is done.\\nWinter is past,\\nSweet spring is come at last, is come at last.\\nBud, fig, and vine,\\nAnd olive, fat with fruit and oil and wine.\\nBreak forth this morn,\\nIn roses, thou but yesterday a thorn.\\n12", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0187.jp2"}, "188": {"fulltext": "178\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nUplift thy head,\\nOh, pure white lily through the winter dead.\\nBeside your dams\\nLeap and rejoice, ye merry-making lambs.\\nAll herds and flocks\\nKejoice, all beasts of thickets and of rocks.\\nSing, creatures, sing,\\nAngels and men and birds and everything.\\nAll notes of doves\\nFill all our world this is the tune of loves.\\nMORAL COLOR-BLINDNESS*\\nColor-blindness is more common than folks sup-\\npose, said a car-starter on Canal Street, New Orleans,\\nthe other day. And he continued We fellows have\\na first-rate chance to find it out. It s a common thing\\nfor me to tell a man to take a green car and then see\\nhim stand stock-still and let it go by. He will swear\\nit was blue. The same thing happens with yellow\\ncars, which look pink to lots of people. A good many\\nof them don t know that there is anything wrong with\\ntheir sight, and think that the trouble is with the\\nother fellow. Why, I had a man advise me, not long\\nago, to see a physician because I told him to get on a\\nyellow car, which he thought was pink. He warned\\nme, in confidence, that I would be discharged if the\\ncompany found out my condition. It s no use argu-\\ning in a case like that, so I thanked him and told him\\nthat I would. Annoying as this kind of color-blind-\\nness is, and indeed it would be very dangerous many\\ntimes, it is not of so much importance as moral color-", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0188.jp2"}, "189": {"fulltext": "A GRACEFUL SETTING. 179\\nblindness. Many people are morally color-blind\\nthrough their prejudices. They take the wrong path\\nand think they are right. Isaiah said of such peo-\\nple Wo unto them that call evil good and good evil\\nthat put darkness for light, and light for darkness\\nthat put bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter\\nWORKER OR PAUPER, WHICH?\\nNo man has a right to enjoy the good things of this\\nworld and make no return for them. The accident\\nof inherited money can not save such a man from\\nbeing a pauper. Charlotte Stetson places the duty of\\nwork very clearly\\nShall I not work?\\nShall it be said?\u00e2\u0080\u0094 He took from all the world,\\nOf its accumulated, countless wealth,\\nAs much as he could hold, and never gave\\nSpiritless beggar pauper parasite\\nLife is not long enough to let me work\\nAs I desire but all the years shall hold,\\nShall I pour forth. Perhaps it may be mine\\nTo do some deed was never done before,\\nAnd clear my obligation to the world.\\nA GRACEFUL SETTING.\\nOur religion ought to have a graceful setting. We\\nshould make our goodness attractive to people. There\\nis a Scripture admonition which says Let not your\\ngood be evil spoken of. A gentleman paused to buy\\nan apple at a push-cart standing by the sidewalk. He", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0189.jp2"}, "190": {"fulltext": "180\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\ndropped a nickel, which fell between the curb and the\\nwheel of the cart, an inconvenient place from which\\nto recover it. As he stooped to pick it up, the ped-\\ndler said: Don t! And he handed him a nickel\\nfrom his own pocket. He would pick it up. How\\ngraceful and gracious that was. It left a sweeter taste\\nin the gentleman s mouth than the apple did, tho it\\nwas a good one. The Christian graces of gentleness\\nand politeness and forbearance adorn our religion and\\ngive us. joy in it.\\nLITTLE DEEDS OF KINDNESS,\\nThe happiness of the world mostly comes, not from\\nthe great deeds of the giants, but from the little or-\\ndinary doings of one-talented people, the kind of\\nthing that is within the reach of every one of us every\\nday. Margaret Sangster illustrates this in her poem,\\nentitled A Commonplace Letter\\nIt seemed so little, the thing you did\\nJust to take the pen in your hand\\nAnd send the warm heart s greeting, hid\\nNeath the common two-cent stamp of the land\\nBut over the mountains and over the plain\\nAnd away o er the billowy prairie went\\nThe small, square letter, to soothe the pain\\nOf one who was fretted with discontent.\\nShe was ill and tired the long, hot day\\nHad worn itself to the merest shred\\nThe last of the light as it ebbed away,\\nFell on her quivering needle and thread.\\nA shadow came flying across the space\\nWhere the fading sunlight filtered through", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0190.jp2"}, "191": {"fulltext": "LITTLE DEEDS OF KINDNESS.\\nThere was just the gleam of a sweet young face\\nAnd a voice said, Here is a letter for you\\nThe quick tears blurred in a sudden mist,\\nBut she brushed them away, and then she smiled,\\nAnd you should have seen how she kissed and kissed\\nThe postmark, just like a little child.\\nWhy, the name brought back the long ago\\nWhen she dressed in her best of afternoons,\\nWhen she found it a pleasure to sit and sew,\\nAnd her seams were sewed to tripping tunes.\\nPoverty, change, and the drudgery\\nOf work that goes on without an end\\nHad fettered the heart that was light and free,\\nTill she d almost forgotten she had a friend.\\nThe people at home so seldom write\\nHer youth and its pleasures lie all behind\\nShe was thinking bitterly but last night\\nThat out of sight is out of mind\\nNow, here is your letter The old hills break\\nBeyond these levels flat and green\\nShe thrills to the thrush as his flute notes wake\\nIn the vesper hush of the woods serene.\\nShe sits again in the little church,\\nAnd lifts her voice in the choir once more,\\nOr stoops for a four-leaved clover to search\\nIn the grass that ripples up to the door.\\nIt was very little it meant for you\\nAn hour at best when the day was done\\nBut the words you sent rang sweet and true,\\nAnd they carried comfort and cheer to one\\nWho was needing to feel a clasping hand,\\nAnd to hear the voices she used to hear\\nAnd the little letter the breadth of the land\\nWas the carrier-dove that brought home near.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0191.jp2"}, "192": {"fulltext": "182\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nNEVER GIVE UP.\\nIf your motive is high enough and you are doing\\nhonest work worthy of being crowned, then never de-\\nspair. Lady Butler, the artist, whose Roll-Call\\nmade her famous, sums up the early vicissitudes of\\nthat picture thus Rejected and damaged; rejected;\\naccepted and skied. 7 Many a man has been rejected\\nand damaged but, refusing to accept the verdict, has\\ngone on, only to be rejected again but stedf astly per-\\nsevering, he has been finally accepted, and found his\\nplace in the skies.\\nTHE SOUL S CONVERSION.\\nThe miracle of the soul s conversion, in the marvel-\\nous transformation wrought in all the faculties of the\\nbeing, is strongly set forth in a hymn written by Rev.\\nWilliam Kidd Matson\\nLord, I was blind I could not see\\nIn thy marred visage any grace\\nBut now the beauty of thy face\\nIn radiant vision dawns on me.\\nLord, I was deaf I could not hear\\nThe thrilling music of thy voice\\nBut now I hear thee and rejoice,\\nAnd all thy uttered words are dear.\\nLord, I was dumb I could not speak\\nThe grace and glory of thy name\\nBut now, as touched with living flame,\\nMy lips thine eager praises wake.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0192.jp2"}, "193": {"fulltext": "HOW TO ENJOY RELIGION. 183\\nLord, I was dead I could not stir\\nMy lifeless soul to come to thee\\nBut now since thou hast quickened me,\\nI rise from sin s dark sepulcher.\\nLord, thou hast made the blind to see,\\nThe deaf to hear, the dumb to speak,\\nThe dead to live and lo, I break\\nThe chains of my captivity.\\nHOW TO ENJOY RELIGION,\\nThe people that enjoy religion most are those who\\nare seeking, not for enjoyment, but to accomplish a\\ngreat and good purpose. Paul du Chaillu, speaking,\\nin Boston, of the hardships through which he had\\npassed in the course of his African explorations,\\nstated that while he was in the forest three years he\\nate five pounds of quinin, sometimes one hundred and\\nfifty grains a day. He had had to submit to all sorts\\nof unique and disagreeable experiences. He, how-\\never, advised young men to rough it when they could.\\nHe had eaten snakes, monkeys, elephant meat, and a\\nlittle of everything, but had never had a dyspeptic\\nsymptom in his life. The reason this great traveler\\ncould do this was that his mind was buoyed up with\\nanother purpose, a purpose large enough to make a\\ndiet of snakes seem a very insignificant factor. So\\nif you will fill a man with the great purpose of pleas-\\ning God, of being a friend and disciple of J esus Christ,\\nof helping to cure the world s sorrows, he will rejoice\\nin the midst of trials and hardships, and the real abid-\\ning joy of his life no combination of evil circumstances\\nwill be able to take from him.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0193.jp2"}, "194": {"fulltext": "184\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nALL IN ALL.\\nGod is all in all to the sincere Christian. In him\\nwe have our protection, our strength, our joy, our\\neverything. St. Patrick, the patron saint of the\\nIrish, left one hymn which has come down to us.\\nIn the verses which I quote he sets forth in a stri-\\nking manner the great truth that our all in all is from\\nGod:\\nI bind myself to-day\\nThe power of God to guide me,\\nThe might of God to uphold me,\\nThe wisdom of God to teach me,\\nThe eye of God to watch over me,\\nThe ear of God to hear me,\\nThe word of God to give me speech,\\nThe hand of God to protect me,\\nThe way of God to go before me,\\nThe shield of God to shelter me,\\nThe host of God to defend me,\\nAgainst the snares of demons,\\nAgainst the temptations of vices,\\nAgainst the lusts of nature,\\nAgainst every man who meditates injury to me,\\nWhether far or near,\\nWith few or with many.\\nTHE IMPORTANCE OF THE STANDPOINT.\\nMr. Zangwill, the brilliant Hebrew novelist, re-\\ncently said that a baby is a joy to its mother, an heir\\nto its father, a charge to its nurse, a soul to the clergy-\\nman who baptizes it, a new biological specimen to the\\nphysician, a new customer to the shopkeeper, and a", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0194.jp2"}, "195": {"fulltext": "THE AMBITION OF A HUMAN ANIMAL. 185\\nnuisance to the neighbors. This characterization sug-\\ngests how important it is to take into account the\\nstandpoint of observation in measuring the value of\\nthe opinions of people on any given subject.\\nTHE MOST LASTING MONUMENT,\\nSarah K. Bolton, in her poem entitled The En-\\nduring, brings out in strong relief the great truth\\nthat the touching of a child with sympathy, thus lift-\\ning it up into goodness, insures a far more lasting\\nmonument than any material achievement.\\nHe built a house time laid it in the dust.\\nHe wrote a book its title now forgot.\\nHe ruled a city, but his name is not\\nOn any tablet graven, or where rust\\nCan gather from disuse, or marble bust.\\nHe took a child from out a wretched cot,\\nWho on the State dishonor might have brought,\\nAnd reared him to the Christian s hope and trust.\\nThe boy, to manhood grown, became a light\\nTo many souls, and preached for human need\\nThe wondrous love of the Omnipotent.\\nThe work has multiplied like stars at night\\nWhen darkness deepens. Every noble deed\\nLasts longer than a granite monument.\\nTHE AMBITION OF A HUMAN ANIMAL.\\nA certain United States Senator is reported to have\\nsaid to a party of friends recently If I had plenty\\nof money, I d have music played at all of my meals,\\nand get cigars made at $50 a hundred. Those are\\ntwo luxuries I would most surely indulge myself in.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0195.jp2"}, "196": {"fulltext": "186\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nI d have the music played by a small orchestra, say a\\nhorn and two or three violins and a flute and a bass\\nviol, and I d have it play soft, harmonious airs while\\nI ate; and now and then I d have some vocal music\\ngiven by colored voices. I d have them sing such\\nthings as When the Watermelon Hangs on the Vine.\\nThat s a song calculated to inspire the most sluggish\\nappetite. What a high and noble ambition for a\\nSenator of the United. States! But he has lots of\\ncompany men and women to whom wealth and vast\\nresources mean only ingenious methods of spurring a\\njaded and sluggish appetite to feed on delicacies for\\nthe stomach. Nothing great or noble ever comes from\\npeople inspired by such motives.\\nTHE MAN BEHIND THE WORDS*\\nWords are only things of which to make a diction-\\nary until earnestness, love, a soul, a character get be-\\nhind them, and then they may become more powerful\\nthan flashing bayonets, mightier than the scepter of a\\nking, tenderer than tears, more beautiful than flowers.\\nEobert Louis Stevenson brings out the thought of the\\nimportance of the man behind the words in his poem\\nentitled, Bright Is the Ring of Words\\nBright is the ring of words\\nWhen the right man rings them,\\nFair the fall of songs\\nWhen the singer sings them.\\nStill they are caroled and said\\nOn wings they are carried\\nAfter the singer is dead\\nAnd the maker buried.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0196.jp2"}, "197": {"fulltext": "OUR FELLOWSHIP WITH CHRIST. 187\\nFROM POVERTY TO RICHES.\\nAn old man who had become so frail that he was\\nno longer able to earn his own living, and had gone\\nto the poorhouse some months before, recently re-\\nceived word from Alaska that his son had made a\\nfortune in the Alaskan gold-fields and had made a\\nwill in his father s favor. Soon after making the will\\nthe boy had been drowned, and the father became the\\nheir to a large fortune. The old man is very happy\\nat the prospect, and expects soon to return to Ireland,,\\nwhere he was born, and where he has many friends,\\nand live in comfort and luxury for the rest of his life.\\nThat will be quite a change from the poorhouse. But\\nthe change to this man will not be so great as is ex-\\nperienced by one who, spiritually bankrupt and im-\\npoverished, accepts the riches of forgiveness and good-\\nness which are offered to us by Jesus Christ. Such an\\none throws off his rags and bondage of evil habits\\nand is clothed upon with purity and righteousness.\\nStrange that any one will ever live in the poorhouse\\nof sin when he might dwell amid the luxury of a good\\nconscience and a hopeful heart.\\nOUR FELLOWSHIP WITH CHRIST.\\nWhatever our views may be about the kind of imi-\\ntation of Christ it is wholesome and profitable for us\\nto make, there can be no doubt that it is not only our\\ni duty but our blessed privilege to live daily in f ellow-\\n1 ship with Jesus. Helen Beard, in her poem entitled,\\nIf Christ Should Come To-Day, very keenly brings", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0197.jp2"}, "198": {"fulltext": "188\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nhome the question as to whether this fellowship ex-\\nists or not\\nIf Christ should come to-day\\nIf we could find him on the broad highway\\nOr city street,\\nOh, would we crowd to touch his garments hem,\\nOr kiss his feet?\\nIf he should come to-day\\nThe Prince of Peace amidst the clang of war\\nAnd battle heat\\nOh, would we haste to lay our weapons down\\nBefore his feet?\\nIf he should come to-day\\nAbove all honors and the paltry things\\nThat men call great\\nIs he enshrined, and have we kept our faith\\nInviolate?\\nO gentle, pitying Christ\\nDelay thy coming to the weary soul,\\nSo sick of sin\\nDraw close thy cords of love until his heart\\nShall take thee in.\\nThen come at morn or eve\\nWhether in manhood, youth, or feeble age,\\nThy visit fall\\nTo him who loves thee all is well, since Christ\\nIs all in all.\\nSOBRIETY AND HEALTH.\\nIt is said that the honor of being the most health-\\nful town in the United States, and perhaps in the\\nworld, belongs to Millerstown, Pa. The death-rate,\\naccording to the latest statistics issued from Washing-", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0198.jp2"}, "199": {"fulltext": "THE BEST WINE LAST.\\n189\\nton, gives Millerstown but one in every one thousand\\ninhabitants. The average of deaths for the large towns\\nand cities in the United States is from ten to twenty\\nand even more in every thousand. Now, if I were to\\nsay that Millerstown has more liquor-saloons in pro-\\nportion to the population than any other town in the\\nState, after what I have said about its health, no one\\nwould believe it. And they would do well in their\\ndisbelief, for the statement is that intoxicating liquors\\nare almost an unknown quantity in the town. Strange\\nthat so many towns and cities should license the estab-\\nlishment of what are practically murder-mills within\\ntheir limits.\\nTHE BEST WINE LAST,\\nAt the great feast where Christ turned the water\\ninto wine, they had the best at the last of the feast.\\nChristianity is always doing that. That is the differ-\\nence between earthly pleasures and the pleasure that\\nfollows on doing right. The world gives the best\\nfirst, but God gives the best last. Ella Wheeler Wil-\\ncox illustrates this in her poem entitled, Duty s\\nPath\\nOut from the harbor of youth s bay\\nThere leads the path of pleasure\\nWith eager steps we walk that way\\nTo brim joy s largest measure.\\nBut when with morn s departing beam\\nGoes youth s last precious minute,\\nWe sigh, Twas but a fevered dream\\nThere s nothing in it.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0199.jp2"}, "200": {"fulltext": "190\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nThen on our vision dawns afar\\nThe goal of glory, gleaming\\nLike some great radiant solar star,\\nAnd sets us longing, dreaming.\\nForgetting all things left behind,\\nWe strain each nerve to win it,\\nBut when tis ours, alas we find\\nThere s nothing in it.\\nWe turn our sad, reluctant gaze\\nUpon the path of duty\\nIts barren, uninviting ways\\nAre void of bloom and beauty.\\nYet in that road, tho dark and cold\\nIt seems as we begin it,\\nAs we press on, lo we behold\\nThere s heaven in it.\\nTHE LOCK-STEP OF SIN.\\nWhen a man has been in state prison for some\\nyears, that fact is apparent, to a skilled observer, in\\nhis walk. No matter how well he may be dressed,\\nhow prosperous he may be, how sincerely he may have\\nturned over a new leaf, his gait in moments of self-\\nforgetfulness betrays him. It is the lock-step.\\nDid you ever see a long line of men in coarse and\\nstriped prison garb performing this parody of free\\nmotion? Each man s hands rest on the shoulders of\\nthe man in front, the crook of his knee fits the crook\\nin the man before him and behind him. A step is\\nnecessarily short; the foot shuffles along the stone\\nfloor. There is no individuality of motion all must\\nstep precisely alike. There is an exaggerated swing\\nof the shoulders, rhythmic with the swish, swish,", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0200.jp2"}, "201": {"fulltext": "REASON FOR CHARITY.\\n191\\nswish. of the dragging feet upon the floor. So some-\\ntimes it happens that a free man walking in deep\\nthought along a city street will swing his shoulders to\\nthe short, quick, low-swung step of his feet and the\\nfamiliar rhythm of the swish, swish, swish. he used\\nto hear. Then all at once he will shake his head and\\nstraighten his shoulders as if to cast off an ugly dream,\\nand walk as others do. Sin leaves its mark on men;\\nthe scar is there the fatal register of an evil habit\\nthe mark is on body and mind and heart. Take care,\\ntake care, that you do not get into the lock- step of\\nan evil habit\\nREASON FOR CHARITY.\\nIt is said that a saintly man, upon seeing an officer\\ntaking a poor, wretched criminal through the streets,\\nexclaimed I should be in his place but for the grace\\nof God. How charitable such thoughts ought to\\nmake us when we judge pthers. We who have been\\nhedged about by nurturing circumstances which have\\nmade it easy for us to be good, ought not only to thank\\nGod for our preservation, but we ought to have great\\ncharity and sympathy for those who have been differ-\\nently placed. Elizabeth Perkins, in a poem entitled\\nEnvironments, brings out the thought in a striking\\npicture\\nA lily grew in a garden, far\\nFrom the dust of the city street.\\nIt had no dream that the universe\\nHeld aught less pure and sweet\\nThan its virgin self so chaste was it,\\nSo perfect its retreat.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0201.jp2"}, "202": {"fulltext": "192\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nWhen night came down the lily looked\\nIn the face of the stars and smiled\\nThen went to sleep to the sleep of death,\\nAs the soul of a little child\\nGoes back to the clasp of the Father-soul,\\nUntouched and undefiled.\\nA lily bloomed on the highway, close\\nTo the tread of the sweeping throng\\nIt bore the gaze of a hundred eyes\\nWhere burned the flame of wrong\\nAnd one came by who tore its heart\\nWith a ruthless hand and strong.\\nIt caught no glimpse of a garden fair,\\nIt knew no other name\\nFor a world that used and bruised it so\\nThan a world of sin and shame\\nAnd hopeless, crushed, its spirit passed\\nAs the evening shadows came.\\nAnd who can say but the sheltered one\\nA sullied flower had been\\nHad its home been out on the highway, close\\nTo the path of shame and sin?\\nAnd the other forever angel- white\\nHad it blossomed safe within?\\nAPFEARANCES DECEPTIVE,\\nA San Francisco journalist was riding in a street-\\ncar in that city beside an army officer. Two men sit-\\nting across from them eyed the army officer opposite\\nwith ill-concealed disfavor. Finally one of them re-\\nmarked to his companion, a tall man These mon-\\nkeys under shoulder-straps give me the wearies.\\nMe too. They take themselves seriously, con-\\ntinued the small man. If we had more real officers", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0202.jp2"}, "203": {"fulltext": "GOD S PROVIDENCE.\\n193\\nand fewer gilt-upholstered peacocks in the Philip-\\npines, the fighting of the men of the line would count\\nfor more. I never see one strutting the street but\\nwhat I want to kick his useless carcass. Same\\nhere, said the tall man. There s a sample of him\\nover there, indicating the officer opposite, for whose\\nbenefit the conversation was being carried on. The\\nbest he could command would be a cash-boy.\\nSure, said the small man, with a contemptuous\\nstare at the shoulder-straps. You re getting it\\npretty hard, smiled the newspaper man who was\\nseated by the officer. Yes, pretty tough. May\\nI ask your name? Funston. A blush came into\\nthe faces across the car as they heard the name, and\\nthey managed to get away at the next street corner.\\nIt is never safe to judge any man or woman by size\\nor by the outward splendor of appearance the mind\\nand heart are of such infinitely greater importance in\\nmaking manhood and womanhood, and outward ap-\\npearances are so often deceptive.\\nGOD S PROVIDENCE.\\nThat God means the same to us in laughter and in\\ntears, in prosperity and in adversity, and that both\\npaths lead home to heaven if we are submissive to the\\nwill of God, Edith Bradt suggests in her little poem\\nMispah\\nIt may be mine\\nTo drink at Marah s well\\nIt may be thine\\nIn tents of ease to dwell\\n13", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0203.jp2"}, "204": {"fulltext": "194\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nAnd yet between\\nHis loving care shall be\\nAnd he will e en\\nKeep watch twixt me and thee.\\nIt shall be mine\\nTo reach the promised land\\nIt shall be thine\\nOn that bright shore to stand\\nThe path is steep\\nFor weary feet to roam\\nBut He will keep\\nHis watch, and bring us home.\\nMORAL COURAGE.\\nAn old navy officer, who has been for many years a\\nshipmate of Bear-Admiral Sampson, tells this story of\\nhim: I have never doubted Sampson s courage since\\nthe first cruise I made with him. We were wardroom\\nofficers together. The first night aboard ship, when\\nthe hour arrived for piping down and we turned in,\\nthere were several officers sitting around the wardroom\\ntable indulging in some innocent merriment. I was\\ntaught to say my prayers before going to bed at night,\\nbut I confess I lacked the courage to kneel down in\\nthe presence of my shipmates and pray. It was warm\\nweather, and our stateroom doors opened into the\\nwardroom. Then it was that Sampson displayed the\\nmoral courage which forever afterward impressed me.\\nWhen he was ready to turn in, he knelt down by his\\nberth and prayed. A stillness came over the ward-\\nroom immediately, and I concluded that if Sampson\\nhad the courage to say his prayers in the presence of", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0204.jp2"}, "205": {"fulltext": "CHRIST AT THE DOOR.\\n195\\nhis shipmates, I could do likewise, so I have never\\nhesitated since to pray before turning in. That\\nsort of moral courage indicates what Paul must have\\nmeant when he speaks about the body being kept as\\nthe temple of the Lord. Such a temple never fails to\\nawaken divine worship in others who live under the\\nshadow of its influence.\\nCHRIST AT THE DOOR.\\nNo picture in all the New Testament is more tender\\nin its suggestion than that which represents Jesus as\\nstanding knocking for admittance at the door of the\\nheart. Harriet Beecher Stowe, after studying Hol-\\nman Hunt s picture of that scene which he called\\nThe Light of the World, went away to write a very\\ntender poem entitled, Knocking, Ever Knocking\\nKnocking, knocking, ever knocking\\nWho is there?\\nTis a Pilgrim, strange and kingly,\\nNever such was seen before\\nAh, sweet soul, for such a wonder\\nUndo the door.\\nNo that door is hard to open\\nHinges rusty, latch is broken,\\nBid him go.\\nWherefore with that knocking dreary\\nScare the sleep from one so weary?\\nSay him, No.\\nKnocking, knocking, ever knocking?\\nWhat Still there?\\nO sweet soul, but once behold him\\nWith the glory-crowned hair", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0205.jp2"}, "206": {"fulltext": "196\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nAnd those eyes, so strange and tender,\\nWaiting there\\nOpen Open Once behold him\\nHim, so fair\\nDid she open? Doth she? Will she?\\nSo, as wondering we behold,\\nGrows the picture to a sign,\\nPressed upon your soul and mine\\nFor in every breast that liveth\\nIs that strange, mysterious door\\nTho forsaken and betangled,\\nIvy-gnarled and weed-bejangled,\\nDusty, rusty, and forgotten,\\nThere the pierced hand still knocketh,\\nAnd with ever-patient watching,\\nWith the sad eyes true and tender,\\nWith the glory-crowndd hair,\\nStill a God is waiting there.\\nDANGEROUS ASSOCIATIONS.\\nDr. Schumann, a Belgian naturalist and explorer,\\nwas collecting specimens of plants and animals in\\nZacatecas, and at one time visited some old Toltec\\nruins. He arrived late at night and determined to\\ncamp out. He lit a fire to get his supper, after which\\nhe spread his blankets and lay down. In the morn-\\ning when he woke he threw his hand outside of the\\nblanket and it almost touched a great poisonous rat-\\ntlesnake. He escaped by the merest chance. Look-\\ning toward his feet, what was his astonishment to see\\nrattlesnakes all over the blanket. There were no less\\nthan six large serpents besides the one that had\\nmissed his hand. The doctor killed the snakes and", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0206.jp2"}, "207": {"fulltext": "GROWTH AND REST.\\n197\\nnailed them to the adobe wall, with his card on each.\\nThere are many young men who are camping out in\\ntheir daily associations in as dangerous quarters as\\nthat. An evil-minded friend often has fangs more\\npoisonous than a Mexican rattlesnake.\\nGROWTH AND REST.\\nGrowing children and growing animals require a\\ngreat deal of sleep and rest but men and women are\\nalways children while in this world in reference to\\ntheir higher life, and there can be no great spiritual\\ngrowth unless there be time for brooding and medita-\\ntion. Mrs. Farningham, in a beautiful little poem en-\\ntitled Kest a While, sets forth the truth that to rest\\nwhen we are weary is as certainly a duty as to work\\nwhen we are strong\\nCome ye apart\\nFrom off the toilsome road,\\nAnd spend a quiet hour,\\nAlone with God.\\nPut off the troubled thought,\\nThe weight of care,\\nLet the soul s peace\\nBe your unspoken prayer.\\nA couch of heather\\nFor your sleep is spread,\\nA scented pillow\\nFor the weary head.\\nLie down and slumber,\\nLet the world go on\\nA while without you\\nAs it oft has gone.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0207.jp2"}, "208": {"fulltext": "198\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nTake time for meditation,\\nTime for dreams\\nSee how clouds travel,\\nHow the river gleams,\\nHow the flowers worship,\\nAnd the golden corn\\nWhispers God s praises\\nEventide and morn.\\nTo work for God is good,\\nBut not the best\\nHearts grow most strong in him\\nThrough love and rest.\\nNESTING IN A WRECK.\\nSeven-Mile Beach, on the Cape May county coast\\nof New Jersey, has always been the nesting-place of\\nmany ospreys or fish-hawks. They never fail to\\ncome back to their island home every spring, and they\\nusually make their appearance about the first week in\\nMay. They are all rather eccentric in their choice of\\nnesting-places, but the oddest of all places has been\\nchosen by a pair of these birds at Stone Harbor. A\\nfew years ago a gentleman had occasion to visit that\\nresort, and while there he went down to the beach to\\ntake a look at the wreck of a vessel that was driven\\nashore during the gale of December 27, 1895. As he\\napproached the wreck, which lies several hundred\\nyards from shore, right in the midst of a long line of\\nwhite-cap breakers, he was surprised to see a huge\\nmass of sticks and seaweed fastened in the crosstrees\\nof the mizzenmast. Pretty soon an osprey made its", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0208.jp2"}, "209": {"fulltext": "THE FACES WATCHING FOR US. 199\\nappearance and fixed itself snugly on the nest, for\\nsuch it proved to be. As he watched, the mate of the\\nbird on the nest came flying in from the sea, carrying\\na fish in its talons. It perched on the crosstrees of\\nthe foremast and proceeded to enjoy its dinner. The\\nbirds had eggs, and two, perhaps three, little os-\\npreys were probably hatched in their oddly located\\nhome, forty feet above the white-cap breakers. This\\nis interesting, but suggests a sadder nesting-place.\\nMany people have built their life-nest in a wreck.\\nThe dissipation and sin of parents often compel their\\nchildren to nest all their lives in a wreck which goes\\nto pieces prematurely, with the work they ought to\\nhave performed only half accomplished.\\nTHE FACES WATCHING FOR US.\\nIt is delightful when we are going home at night\\nto feel that some one is waiting for us with heart and\\nface full of welcome. One by one these welcoming\\nfaces pass across to the other side and wait for us\\nthere. It is a glorious thing to come toward the sun-\\nset with the deep abiding trust that there are many\\nwelcoming faces at the gate to meet us. How many\\nwill have tender hearts as they read this mother s\\npoem entitled, The Gate at the Head of the\\nStair\\nSome things in our house have lost their use\\nWe meet them everywhere\\nAnd one of the saddest and sweetest to me\\nIs the gate at the head of the stair.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0209.jp2"}, "210": {"fulltext": "200\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nSo often I ran to close the gate\\nThat my baby might not fall,\\nAs toddling along on uncertain feet\\nHe followed me through the hall.\\nAnd often, when returning home,\\nI forgot my trouble and care\\nWhen I heard his laugh and saw his face\\nBy the gate at the head of the stair.\\nAnd now, with weary, longing heart,\\nI climb the tedious stair,\\nThe gate is open I look in vain,\\nMy baby is not there.\\nBut I love to think when life s journey ends\\nIn that heavenly dwelling-place,\\nI shall find to welcome me at the gate\\nMy baby s radiant face.\\nA MONEY-MAKING MACHINE.\\nBailroad people have an arrangement by which\\nthey can register the speed of a train. It looks like\\na steam-gage and is connected with the axle, so that\\nthe pointer registers the number of revolutions every\\nminute. There are so many revolutions to the mile,\\nand by an ingenious arrangement the number of miles\\nan hour is shown upon the dial. The apparatus is ex-\\npensive as well as delicate. The late Jay Gould was\\none of the first to adopt it, and shortly after a register\\nwas placed in his private car a certain millionaire\\nfriend of his was making a journey with him and in-\\nquired what it was. Mr. Gould explained the mech-\\nanism and the usefulness of the machine with great\\ncare. The guest was silent for a moment, and then", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0210.jp2"}, "211": {"fulltext": "THE POWER OF IMAGINATION.\\n201\\nlooking up inquired Does it earn anything? No,\\nI think not, said Mr. Gould, with a smile. Does\\nit save anything? No. Then I would not have\\nit in my car. n Such men are only human money-\\nmaking machines. One of those slot-machines where\\nyou put in a nickel and get chewing-gum has as much\\nof the milk of human kindness and fellowship as is\\nleft in their dried-up hearts. When money does that\\nfor a man, it is an unspeakable curse to him. Money\\nis worse than valueless to us when it gets to be our\\nmaster.\\nTHE ATTRACTION OF LOVE.\\nNothing draws men and women to the Christian\\nchurch with so irresistible a magnetism as a loving\\nspirit among its members. Christina Eossetti sug-\\ngests this attraction of love in these delicate lines\\nO ye who taste that Love is sweet,\\nSet waymarks for the doubtful feet\\nThat stumble on in search of it.\\nSing notes of love, that some who hear\\nFar off, inert, may lend an ear,\\nRise up and wonder, and draw near.\\nLead lives of love, that others who\\nBehold your lives may kindle too\\nWith love, and cast their lots with you.\\nTHE POWER OF IMAGINATION.\\nThe influence of the imagination is a factor which\\nphysicians have to reckon with very largely. And in\\nthe minor ailments of life the most successful practi-", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0211.jp2"}, "212": {"fulltext": "202\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\ntioner is lie who possesses the faculty of inspiring\\nconfidence in himself to begin with, and then in the\\ntreatment he advises. A recent number of The\\nPsychological Review relates an interesting experi-\\nment made by Mr. Slosson, with the view of demon-\\nstrating how easily this faculty can be called into\\nplay. In the course of a popular lecture he presented\\nto his audience a bottle containing distilled water,\\nwhich he uncorked with elaborate precautions, and\\nthen, watch in hand, asked those present to indicate\\nthe exact moment at which the peculiar odor was per-\\nceived by them. Within fifteen seconds those imme-\\ndiately in front of him held up their hands, and within\\nforty seconds those at the other end of the room de-\\nclared that they distinctly perceived the odor. There\\nwas an obstinate minority, who stoutly declared their\\ninability to detect any odor but Mr. Slosson believes\\nthat many more would have given in had he not been\\ncompelled to bring the experiment to a close within a\\nminute of opening the bottle, because several persons\\nin the front rank found the odor so powerful that they\\nhastily quitted the lecture-room. It would have been\\ninteresting to know the attitude of the audience on\\nlearning the liberty that had been taken with their\\nimagination but on this point, unfortunately, the re-\\nport is silent. The imagination can never be left out\\nof account in dealing with life. Paul says that it is\\nthe great work of Christianity to cast down evil im-\\naginations. If we keep the imagination clean and\\npure, we destroy the nesting-place of evil thoughts\\nand wicked deeds.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0212.jp2"}, "213": {"fulltext": "THE MUSIC OF LIFE.\\n203\\nTRIALS INTENSIFY HAPPINESS.\\nThere are great compensations in the hardships\\nand trials of life. The man who has never been hun-\\ngry knows nothing of the real joy of taking food.\\nThe man who has never really suffered from thirst\\ndoes not know how to thank God for water. And so\\nit is in every realm of life that the struggle or the\\nchase adds to the enjoyment of achievement. Helen\\nGray Cone sings\\nThere is no calm like that when storm is done\\nThere is no pleasure keen as pain s release\\nThere is no joy that lies so deep as peace,\\nNo peace so deep as that by struggle won.\\nTHE MUSIC OF LIFE.\\nJames Lane Allen, in A Kentucky Cardinal,\\nspeaking of the books on the shelves of the library,\\nsays Every volume there is an instrument which\\nsome melodist of the mind created and set vibrating\\nwith music, as a flower shakes out its perfume or a\\nstar shakes out its light. Only listen, and they soothe\\nall care, as tho the silken-soft leaves of poppies had\\nbeen made vocal and poured into the ear. If that is\\ntrue of a library of books, how much more true of a\\nchurch full of men and women whose memories are\\nlike phonographs that have been gathering up the\\nnotes of sorrow and of joy, of love and hate, of vic-\\ntory and defeat, from the struggles and trials of their\\nlives. Nothing is so interesting, nothing so impor-\\ntant, as the individual personality. How to touch", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0213.jp2"}, "214": {"fulltext": "204\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\neach life so as to bring out the music that shall add\\nto the great choir of humanity in voicing thanksgiving\\nto God and inspiring enthusiasm among men, is the\\ngreatest problem of the preacher, or of the leader in\\nany good cause.\\nTHE NEW YEAR,\\nSome poet whose name is unknown to me has drawn\\na striking picture of God s mercy in giving us ever and\\nanon the new chance. The new year forms to many\\nsuch an epoch of heaven s grace\\nHe came to my desk with a quivering lip\\nThe lesson was done\\nDear teacher, I want a new leaf, he said\\nI have spoiled this one.\\nIn place of the leaf, so stained and blotted,\\nI gave him a new one, all unspotted,\\nAnd into his sad eyes smiled\\nDo better now, my child.\\nI went to the throne with a quivering soul\\nThe old year was done\\nDear Father, hast thou a new leaf for me?\\nI have spoiled this one.\\nHe took the old leaf, stained and blotted,\\nAnd gave me a new one, all unspotted\\nAnd into my sad heart smiled\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nDo better now, my child.\\nELECTRICITY IN THE HIVES.\\nWhat has been called the pleasant occupation of\\nhiving bees a sentence fraught with more or less\\nsarcasm has been made even more pleasant by an\\nelectric invention, which obviates the necessity of", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0214.jp2"}, "215": {"fulltext": "GOD S UNBROKEN REIGN. 205\\nkeeping a watch, on the hives at swarming- time. The\\nbasis of the apparatus is the conversion of the wing\\nmotion of the swarm into power. As the bees swarm\\nout, they cause two small, easy-swinging doors to open\\noutward. A little hammer, which rests upon these\\ndoors when closed and is connected with a battery,\\ndrops, as the doors swing open, upon a small metal\\nleaf, and the electrical connection thus effected rings\\na bell in the bee-grower s house. I know some\\nchurches which need closer electrical connection with\\nthe great heart of Christ, who is the Captain and the\\nLeader of all reform hosts. When we begin to swarm\\nand use our wings to seek after honey in noble work,\\nwe are always brought into connection with him.\\nDon t forget to use your wings.\\nGOD S UNBROKEN REIGN.\\nSome people are so anxious to look out for their\\nchildren after they themselves are dead as to suggest\\nthat they must think God will abdicate his throne at\\nthe same time they die. It is pitiful to see men who\\nhave fought their own way in the world, and who will\\nconfess that the greatest blessing God has given them\\nhas come from having to rely on themselves, trying\\nto so hedge their own children about that they will\\nnever have any chance to enjoy that which has been a\\nblessing to themselves. Surely the Christian father\\nhas a right, having done the best he can, to trust his\\nchildren and every other interest to the hands of the\\nsame God who has led and guided and protected him.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0215.jp2"}, "216": {"fulltext": "206\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nLongfellow has a very striking little poem on this sub-\\nject\\nI said unto myself, If I were dead,\\nWhat would befall these children? What would be\\nTheir fate, who now are looking up to me\\nFor help and furtherance? Their lives, I said,\\nWould be a volume wherein I have read\\nBut the first chapters, and no longer see\\nTo read the rest of their dear history,\\nSo full of beauty and so full of dread.\\nBe comforted the world is very old,\\nAnd generations pass, as they have passed,\\nA troop of shadows moving with the sun\\nThousands of times has the old tale been told\\nThe world belongs to those who come the last,\\nThey will find hope and strength as we have done.\\nA TELL-TALE CONSCIENCE.\\nThe story is told of Aaron Burr that he was once\\ndefending a man who was charged with murder.\\nWhen Burr addressed the jury, it was night. The\\nguilty man was in the room. He had been the prin-\\ncipal witness for the prosecution, but Burr had learned\\nthat this witness was the assassin. In closing his ad-\\ndress for his client Burr picked up two lighted can-\\ndles from the table, and holding them in the face of\\nthe witness, exclaimed Gentlemen of the jury, there\\nis nature s verdict. Now write yours. The witness\\nwas so overwhelmed by his guilty conscience and with\\namazement that he fled in terror from the room.\\nThere is Scripture, as true now as it was in ancient\\ntimes Be sure your sin will find you out.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0216.jp2"}, "217": {"fulltext": "THE TREADMILL OF FASHION. 207\\nREST IN ACTION.\\nThe sublimest peace is in the heart of the storm.\\nThis is what Paul means when he talks about a life\\nhid with Christ in God. Lucy Fletcher has the\\nsame thought in her poem entitled, True Best.\\nGod sends sometimes a stillness in our life,\\nThe bivouac, the sleep,\\nWhen on the silent battlefield the strife\\nIs hushed in slumber deep\\nWhen wearied hearts, exhausted, sink to rest,\\nRemembering nor the struggle nor the quest.\\nHe giveth rest more perfect, pure and true\\nWhile we his burden bear\\nIt springeth not from parted pain, but through\\nThe accepted blessing there\\nThe lesson pondered o er with thoughtful eyes,\\nThe faith that sees iD all a meaning wise.\\nDeep in the heart of pain God s hand hath set\\nA hidden rest and bliss\\nTake as his gift the pain, the gift brings yet\\nA truer happiness.\\nGod s voice speaks through it all the high behest\\nThat bids his people enter into rest.\\nTHE TREADMILL OF FASHION.\\nNot long ago The Ram s Horn had a cartoon in\\nwhich the figure represents a treadmill. Planks in the\\ntramping-apron are labeled: Cards, Receptions,\\nCalling, Ball, Shopping, Dressing, Car-\\nriage Eide, Theater Party, Dinner Party,\\nOpera, Masquerade, and so on. And on this end-", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0217.jp2"}, "218": {"fulltext": "208\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nless tramping-apron is a fashionably dressed lady,\\ntramping her best to keep up with the revolutions of\\nthe mill, while down at the side is her husband, hard\\nat work shoveling money into the fire-box to make\\nsteam to keep the treadmill going. The lesson is very\\nsignificant. There are multitudes of people who are\\nworking harder doing nothing but keep up with the\\nfashion than they would have to work in order to\\nbe of great usefulness and blessing to the world.\\nNobody is to be more pitied than the miserable slaves\\nof fashion who tramp up and down all their lives on\\nthe treadmill and at last utter the despairing and dis-\\ngusted cry of Solomon All is vanity and vexation\\nof spirit.\\nPRAYER AND WORKS.\\nFrederick Douglass used to say that he prayed for\\nfreedom a good while without seeing any signs of an\\nanswer; but when he took to his heels, and, as he\\nprayed, ran for the North, he drew every hour nearer\\nto liberty. The same truth is suggested by Mr. S. E.\\nKiser in The Man Who Longed to Lead\\nThere was a man who prayed\\nFor wisdom that he might\\nSway men from sinful ways\\nAnd lead them in the light.\\nEach night he knelt and asked the Lord\\nTo let him guide the sinful horde,\\nAnd every day he rose again\\nTo idly drift along,\\nOne of the many common men\\nWho form the common throng.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0218.jp2"}, "219": {"fulltext": "THE SPUR OF LOVE.\\n209\\nYear after year he prayed\\nFor worldly strength to lead\\nYear after year the Lord\\nHe worshiped failed to heed\\nHis prayer for leadership and light\\nHe rattled off by rote each night,\\nAnd in the morning rose again\\nTo merely drift along,\\nOne of the many common men\\nWho form the common throng.\\nOne day the man who longed\\nTo lead in men s affairs\\nResolved that he would add\\nHard work unto his prayers\\nBy day he strove with all his might,\\nHe knelt and prayed for help at night,\\nAnd God gave ear and aid, for ther)\\nHe ceased to drift along\\nA cipher with his fellow men,\\nBut came to lead the throng.\\nTHE SPUR OF LOVE.\\nBishop Bandolph S. Foster, in an address to a com-\\npany of ministers in Buffalo, speaking of his own de-\\nnomination and of the need for greater results in the\\nconversion of the world to Christ and what was nec-\\nessary in order to bring it about, said The fault of\\nthe Methodists is laziness. They have resources and\\nmen and money. All they need is a spur. I pre-\\nsume thoughtful men in other denominations would\\naccept that as a pertinent criticism on the Christian\\nchurches generally. The only way we can get the\\nspur 99 is by meditating on the sacrifice of Jesus\\n14", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0219.jp2"}, "220": {"fulltext": "210\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nChrist, made in our behalf, until our gratitude and\\nlove and appreciation of his love shall spur us to seek\\nafter and save our brethren who are also the subjects\\nof his deathless love.\\nHE DIED FOR ME.\\nWe have not felt the pathos or the love of the cross\\nof Christ unless our personal relation to it has come\\nhome to our hearts. An unknown English poet brings\\nthis out strongly in The Three Crosses\\nThree crosses stood grimly side by side\\nOn the hill of Calvary\\nOn each a suffering man had died\\nTwo for their crimes, the other for me.\\nLike a lamb they led Him out to die\\nFrom the shades of Gethsemane\\nHe uttered no moan, no bitter cry\\nTwas love that moved him to die for me.\\nOn the central cross they nailed my Friend,\\nTo languish in agony\\nHe bore it all to the bitter end,\\nOh, wonderful love, he died for me.\\nOh, thanks for the love that brought him down\\nLove fathomless, like the sea.\\nHis brow was pierced by a thorny crown,\\nThat a crown of life might be given me.\\nTHE RAIMENT OF THE SOUL.\\nThe Empress of Eussia received as a wedding gift\\nfrom the ladies of Orenburg, a town in Southeastern\\nEussia, a most wonderful shawl. The shawl was", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0220.jp2"}, "221": {"fulltext": "A LIFE OF TRUST.\\n211\\nsent to the Empress in a wooden chest with silver\\nlocks and hinges, the outside being embellished with\\ndesigns of spears, turbans, whips, etc., in a ground of\\nblue enamel, this being the color of the Cossack uni-\\nform. On the inside of the box a gracefully worded\\ninscription begged the Empress to accept the gift\\nfrom her faithful and devoted subjects. The shawl\\nwhen spread out is about ten yards square, but it is\\nso exquisitely fine that it can be passed through a\\nfinger-ring, and when folded up makes a parcel only\\na very few inches square. It is not only curious, but\\nexceedingly valuable. It is not, however, so delicate\\nor valuable as the invisible raiment of character which\\nclothes the soul. A garment made of the Christian\\ngraces, tho invisible to the outward eye, adorns the\\nsoul with imperishable spiritual beauty.\\nA LIFE OF TRUST.\\nWe must each oftentimes walk by faith and not by\\nsight. Yet old as that is in our creeds, we need to\\nsay it over again and again to ourselves. Gertrude\\nCurtis, in her Song of Trust, 7 puts it in a very com-\\nforting way\\nI can not always see the way that leads\\nTo heights above\\nI sometimes quite forget He leads me on\\nWith hand of love\\nBut yet I know the path must lead me to\\nImmanuel s land,\\nAnd when I reach life s summit, I shall know\\nAnd understand.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0221.jp2"}, "222": {"fulltext": "212\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nI can not always trace the onward course\\nMy ship must take\\nBut, looking backward, I behold afar\\nIts shining wake,\\nIllumined with God s light of love and so\\nI onward go,\\nIn perfect trust that he who holds the helm\\nThe course must know.\\nI cannot always see the plan on which\\nHe builds my life\\nFor oft the sound of hammers, blow on blow,\\nThe noise of strife,\\nConfuse me till I quite forget he knows\\nAnd oversees,\\nAnd that in all details with his good plan\\nMy life agrees.\\nI can not always know and understand\\nThe Master s rule\\nI can not always do the tasks he gives\\nIn life s hard school\\nBut I am learning with his help to solve\\nThem one by one\\nAnd, when I can not understand, to say\\nThy will be done!\\nA BEAUTIFUL REMEMBRANCE.\\nWhen Charles II. was king of England, he sent\\nhis wife Catharine to Oxford, bidding her not to reap-\\npear in St. J ames for a whole year. The warden of\\nMerton entertained the Queen during the time, and\\nthe rooms which she occupied in the quadrangle are\\nstill shown. One day, as she sat working at the open\\nwindow, a bullfinch flew into the room. The Queen\\ncaught it and held it until a cage of hemp and rushes", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0222.jp2"}, "223": {"fulltext": "NEED OF EARNESTNESS. 213\\nwas made. Some weeks later, on June 3, as she\\nwas leaving, the bird escaped and flew away. On her\\ndeparture from the college gate, her Majesty said\\nMr. Warden, in remembrance of my happy visit, I\\npray you always liberate hereafter a wild bullfinch on\\nthis day. So it is that on this day every year the\\nwarden comes out into the quadrangle at 11 o clock,\\nholding a little cage of hemp and rushes, in which is\\na bullfinch. The junior bursar, who has been await-\\ning his arrival, then advances, saying Mr. Warden,\\nis this Queen Catharine s bird? Aye, the warden\\nreplies, this is Queen Catharine s bird. The bur-\\nsar then opens the cage and claps his hands until the\\nbird flies away. Surely no queen could ask for a\\nsweeter remembrance than that. And yet a sweeter\\nremembrance is possible for all men and women,\\nhowever humble, who will devote their lives to set-\\nting free the victims of sin. Those who patiently\\nlabor to bring deliverance to the poor drunkard and\\nhis family will ever be remembered by the sweet songs\\nof freedom they have caused to spring up in ransomed\\nhearts.\\nNEED OF EARNESTNESS.\\nEpochs of great advancement among men have been\\nalso epochs of great earnestness. Great revivals of\\nreligion have been born of intense zeal on the part of\\nearnest heroic souls. Men like Paul, willing to be\\naccursed if their brother may be saved, have been the\\nkind who have shaken the world. In order to do our\\nbest work, we need to feel this holy longing for the", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0223.jp2"}, "224": {"fulltext": "214\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nworld s salvation. Some unknown poet suggests this\\nmiracle-working spirit in a poem entitled, When\\nWilt Thou Save the People?*\\nWhen wilt thou save the people?\\nO God of mercy, when?\\nNot kings and lords, but nations\\nNot thrones and crowns, but men\\nFlowers of thy heart, O God, are they\\nLet them not pass, like weeds, away,\\nTheir heritage a sunless day.\\nGod save the people\\nShall crime bring crime forever,\\nStrength aiding still the strong?\\nIs it thy will, O Father,\\nThat man shall toil for wrong?\\nNo, say thy mountains, No, thy skies:\\nMan s clouded sun shall brightly rise,\\nAnd songs ascend instead of sighs.\\nGod save the people\\nWhen wilt thou save the people?\\nO God of mercy, when?\\nThe people, Lord, the people\\nNot thrones and crowns, but men\\nGod save the people Thine they are,\\nThy children, as thine angels fair.\\nFrom vice, oppression, and despair,\\nGod save the people\\nA HOPEFUL CHRISTIANITY.\\nIt was the grave-digging, says a returning sol-\\ndier, that broke down many of the boys. Nothing\\ncould be more disheartening than to take the body of\\na dead comrade out and fight off the buzzards while\\ndigging the grave. It is bad enough to hear the earth", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0224.jp2"}, "225": {"fulltext": "THE GLORY OF DUTY.\\n215\\nrattle down on the top of a coffin containing the form\\nof a comrade, but it is shocking to put an uncoffined\\nform into the ground and pile the dirt on top of it.\\nThe men detailed for burials were easily disheart-\\nened, and the soldier who lost heart was himself a can-\\ndidate for an early burial. It was Abraham s hope\\nof a city whose builder and maker was God that made\\nhim superior to the loneliness of the desert. It is the\\nChristian s vision of Easter-time and the promise of\\neverlasting life that give him courage to see life grow-\\ning out of death and snatch victory out of defeat.\\nTHE GLORY OF DUTY,\\nDuty is the harness that fits all loads it is a suit\\nof clothes adapted to any climate and to all seasons.\\nSometimes we are ready to cry out against it, but it\\nholds the peace of God in its hand. Thomas Went-\\nworth Higginson sings a very graphic sonnet To\\nDuty\\nLight of dim mornings shield from heat and cold\\nBalm for all ailments substitute for praise\\nComrade of those who plod in lonely ways\\n(Ways that grow lonelier as the years wax old)\\nTonic for fears check to the overbold\\nNurse whose calm hand its strong restriction lays,\\nKind but resistless, on our wayward days\\nMart, where high wisdom at vast price is sold\\nGardener, whose touch bids the rose petals fall,\\nThe thorns endure surgeon, who human hearts\\nSearchest with probes, tho the death-touch be given\\nSpell that knits friends, but yearning lovers parts\\nTyrant relentless, o er our blisses all,\\nOh, can it be, thine other name is Heaven?", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0225.jp2"}, "226": {"fulltext": "216\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nOUR SLAIN LIONS.\\nThe chief of the Cherokee Indians, Jim Rey, which\\nin English means John King, a very distinguished-\\nlooking man, is fifty-eight years old. He was edu-\\ncated at the best schools in the country, including the\\nmedical course at Ann Arbor, Mich. He wears a long\\nchain around his neck which contains a number of\\nteeth of lions which he killed in Sierra Leone, Africa.\\nHe owns a large ranch in old Mexico, on which he\\nhas seventeen hundred head of cattle. At the time\\nthe Spanish war broke out he was living in Cuba,\\nwhere he has a large tract of land on which were two\\nsugar-mills. The Spanish came to him and demanded\\n$500 for war expenses. He gave the amount; but\\nwhen they came and demanded $500 additional, he\\npleaded the necessity of going to Havana to obtain the\\nmoney. When he arrived in the city, he drew out all\\nof his money from the bank and left immediately for\\nAmerica. His mills were afterward destroyed by the\\nSpaniards. Two of his sons were with Dewey in the\\nPhilippines. He is a brilliant speaker and has the\\nerect carriage of his tribe. He has spent many years\\ntraveling abroad, and has many relics of his travels,\\nbut none that he regards so sacredly as these lions\\nteeth which bear testimony to his courage and prowess\\nas a hunter. It is a great thing in a moral way, as a\\nman comes on toward old age, to have his necklace\\nof lions teeth about his neck that tells of the sins he\\nhas fought and conquered, of the iniquities that have\\nbeen smitten by his courageous sword. Young men", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0226.jp2"}, "227": {"fulltext": "SOLDIERS OF CHRIST.\\n217\\ncan not do better than to take Whittier s advice and\\nin their youth ally themselves with some just, tho it\\nmay be unpopular, cause. In old age it will be their\\nglory,\\nOUT OF TOUCH WITH CHRIST.\\nIf our lives are to be effective in helping to bring\\nin the reign of Jesus Christ on the earth, we must\\nkeep close to him, live in his spirit, and attract others\\nto him by our gracious influence. Jean Watson puts\\nit strongly in Out of Touch\\nOnly a smile, yes, only a smile,\\nThat a woman o erburdened with grief\\nExpected from you twould have given her relief,\\nFor her heart ached sore the while\\nBut weary and cheerless she went away,\\nBecause, as it happened, that very day\\nYou were out of touch with your Lord.\\nOnly a day, yes, only a day,\\nBut oh can you guess, my friend,\\nWhere the influence reaches, and where it will end,\\nOf the hours that you frittered away?\\nThe Master s command is, Abide in me\\nAnd fruitless and vain will your service be\\nIf out of touch with your Lord.\\nSOLDIERS OF CHRIST.\\nAn old Confederate officer tells an interesting story\\nof the Civil War. Lincoln was urged from the begin-\\nning of the war to take Richmond but talking of tak-\\ning Richmond and taking Richmond were two dif-\\nferent matters. General Scott, who was not retired", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0227.jp2"}, "228": {"fulltext": "218\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nuntil after several futile attempts had been made to\\ntake Richmond, was summoned before the President.\\nGeneral Scott/ said Mr. Lincoln, will you explain\\nwhy it was you were able to take the City of Mexico\\nin three months with 5,000 men, and have been un-\\nable to take Richmond in six months with 100,000\\nmen? Yes, sir, I will, Mr. President, replied\\nGeneral Scott. The men who took me into the City\\nof Mexico are the same men who rare keeping me out\\nof Richmond now. If we can bring all the soldierly\\nqualities of which we are justly so proud into conse-\\ncration to Jesus Christ, the Christian army of Amer-\\nica will be able to lead the hosts for the capture of\\nthe world for our Master.\\nJOY AND SERVICE,\\nThe people who give their lives to a fox-chase after\\nhappiness never carry home the brush for happiness\\nalways eludes the man or the woman who pursues it.\\nBut the one who tries to help the world breathes hap-\\npiness as the gardener does the fragrance of the plants\\nhe tills. Bertha Woods well expresses it in her little\\npoem entitled, The Coming of Joy\\nHe sought for Joy with eager, outstretched arms,\\nBut ever she grew fleeter to elude\\nHis longing grasp among the haunts of men,\\nOr in the quiet courts of solitude.\\nOutwearied, he forsook the quest at last.\\nSince Grief my portion is, he murmured, then\\nMy strife henceforth shall be to make less keen\\nThe throbbing heartaches of my brother men.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0228.jp2"}, "229": {"fulltext": "THE FRIENDLY HAND.\\n219\\nSo passed his days, till one fair morning broke,\\nThe sunshine taking place of shadows dim.\\nHis eyes grew wide, half doubting what they saw,\\nFor Joy at last had come to bide with him.\\nTHE TREACHERY OF SIN.\\nDuring the Jarnieson raid in South. Africa one of the\\ntroopers, falling ill, was taken prisoner by some Boers\\nand kept at their farmhouse some days. He was tied\\nup and forced to submit to all sorts of ill-treatment,\\namong other things being given dirty water to drink\\nwhen half-dying with thirst. But his captor s wife\\npretended to have compassion on him, and at the end\\nof several days, to his surprise, he was told that he\\nwas to be allowed to go free. The Boers gave him a\\nhorse, mounted him, and informed him that the one\\ncondition they made was that he was to ride away as\\nfast as he could. He naturally obeyed, and as the\\npoor fellow galloped off, several bullets were shot\\nthrough his body. Sin works that sort of treachery\\nwith its victims. Many a man, after trying to slake\\nhis thirst on the vile beverages of iniquity, has tried\\nto escape from his bondage only to be slain from a\\nnew ambush. But there is One who can deliver us\\nfrom sin Christ is the great Liberator.\\nTHE FRIENDLY HAND.\\nWe may be sure that the Christ who has promised\\nblessings in reward for those who give only a cup of\\ncold water as they pass along the way of life, looks\\nwith great sympathy and love for those who watch", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0229.jp2"}, "230": {"fulltext": "220\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nfor chances to give a smile, or a handshake, or a help-\\ning shoulder to make the way easier for some tempted\\nor discouraged or broken-down neighbor. James\\nWhitcomb Biley puts it well in his little poem\\nWhen a man ain t got a cent, an lie s feelin kind o blue,\\nAn the clouds hang dark an heavy, an won t let the sunshine\\nthrough,\\nIt s a great thing, O my brethren, for a feller just to lay\\nHis hand upon your shoulder in a friendly sort o way\\nIt makes a man feel curious it makes the tear-drops start,\\nAn you sort o feel a flutter in the region of the heart.\\nYou can t look up an meet his eyes you don t know what to\\nsay,\\nWhen his hand is on your shoulder in a friendly sort o way.\\nOh, the world s a curious compound, with its honey an its gall,\\nWith its cares an bitter crosses but a good world, after all.\\nAn a good God must have made it leastways, that is what I\\nsay\\nWhen a hand rests on my shoulder in a friendly sort o way.\\nRESPECTING OUR INTELLIGENCE.\\nWhile Admiral Schley was sinking Cervera s fleet\\nhe kept the men on his ship informed of what was\\ngoing on. When everything was destroyed or sur-\\nrendered but the Colon, he despatched orderlies to the\\nstoke-hole and engine-room, saying: Now, boys, it\\nall depends on you. Everything is sunk except the\\nColon, and she is trying to getaway. We don t want\\nher to, and everything depends on you. The result\\nseemed to prove that it was very wise to thus respect\\nthe personality and intelligence of the men. Christ", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0230.jp2"}, "231": {"fulltext": "UNKNOWN HEROES.\\n221\\ndeals that way with. us. He said to his disciples: I\\nhave called you friends for all things that I have\\nheard of rny Father I have made known unto you.\\nThis divine fellowship nerves the Christian to bear the\\ntrials of life. We shall never have to go alone into\\nany dark experience, for Christ will keep pace with\\nus there.\\nUNKNOWN HEROES.\\nIt is a comfort to know that a book of life is kept\\nin heaven. The daily newspaper or the monthly\\nmagazine may overlook the quiet heroism of a true\\nsoul, but it is not forgotten God takes note, and in\\nhis own good time will give due honor to the unknown\\nheroes of earth. George Alway puts it strongly in\\nhis poem, entitled Honors\\nWhen God shall call the muster-roll,\\nAs heroes he ll mark off\\nSome who ne er charged at Waterloo,\\nOr stormed the Malakoff.\\nStars, garters, crosses, ribbons, fade;\\nNew orders here unfold\\nThe widow s mite, St. Martin s cloak,\\nThe cup of water cold.\\nThe hearts that saved the world by love\\nAnd hourly Calvaries bore,\\nThe mother-martyrs, queenly host,\\nAre marshaled to the fore.\\nEarth s black-robed throngs are clad in white\\nTheir brows a light adorns\\nA radiance of diamond,\\nCrowns of transfigured thorns.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0231.jp2"}, "232": {"fulltext": "222\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nSome humble folk we knew quite well,\\nBut passed with scarce a nod,\\nNow rank as heaven s nobility\\nThe chivalry of God.\\nImperial names of history\\nOmitted from the list\\nIn Paradise, preferment shows\\nA hidden satirist.\\nThe heavens are taken by surprise\\nArchangels hold their breath\\nThrough audience multitudinous\\nA stillness reigns like death.\\nThen nutter ings of seraphs wings\\nApplauding cherubim\\nWith joy long pent the skies are rent\\nA million eyes grow dim\\nAnd down far-peopled spaces rolls\\nA surge of gratitude,\\nThat God from bitter grapes of life\\nShould crush beatitude.\\nTis thus, with irony divine,\\nEarth s judgments are reversed\\nWhen God shall call the muster-roll\\nThe last will be the first.\\nEVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.\\nLast year a wicked, drunken woman, in one of our\\nlarge cities, was attracted into a church one Sunday-\\nevening and converted to Christ, The pastor of the\\nchurch went to see her husband in the week afterward,\\nand found him a shrewd mechanic, who, however,\\nwas very bitter against Christianity, and professed to\\nbe greatly fascinated with Ingersoll s sneers at the", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0232.jp2"}, "233": {"fulltext": "WAITING.\\n223\\nBible. He was full of contempt at his wife s profes-\\nsion of conversion, and said he had no doubt that\\nshe d soon get over it. Six months passed away, and\\none evening this same man called to see the minister\\nin great anxiety concerning his own salvation. He\\nsaid I have read all the leading books on the evi-\\ndences of Christianity and I can stand out against\\ntheir arguments but for the last six months I have\\nhad an open book about my own fireside, in the pres-\\nence of my wife, that I am not able to answer. I\\nhave come to the conclusion that I am wrong, and that\\nthere must be something holy and divine about a re-\\nligion that could take a woman that would swear and\\nget drunk and change her into the loving, patient,\\nprayerful, singing saint that she is now. The best\\nbooks on Christianity are the men and women who\\nlive transformed lives, in fellowship with Christ.\\nWAITING.\\nSometimes the only thing we can do and do right is\\nto stand still and see the salvation of God. Wait-\\ning is always harder than working, and its results are\\noften more precious. Nellie Willis sings our message\\nI wrought for love of fame,\\nTo win myself a name,\\nAnd when, at last, I reached my long-sought goal,\\nMy conscience said to me\\nWhat means all this to thee?\\nIn seeking fame and power,\\nThou lived st but for the hour,\\nAnd, living thus, hast pauperized thy soul.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0233.jp2"}, "234": {"fulltext": "224\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nAnd then, with purpose new,\\nWith strong intent, and true,\\nI strove the slaves of sin and want to free.\\nThe Master sought my side\\nThou must be sorely tried,\\nEre thou canst hope to lead,\\nFrom out their deepest need,\\nThe least of these, my children, unto me.\\nWith sad and downcast heart,\\nI cried Is there no part\\nFor me in this great world of sin and wo?\\nHe gently said to me\\nI ve planned thy life for thee.\\nI d have thee do my will,\\nBy simply lying still\\nThou It please me more, and serve me better, so.\\nAnd now, in quiet ways,\\nThrough uneventful days,\\nI take each hour as coming from his hand\\nAnd tho the tears will start,\\nAt so obscure a part,\\nI m sure he knoweth best\\nI leave to him the rest,\\nAnd seek to live the life that he hath planned.\\nTHE ORCHIDS OF THE SOUL.\\nThe orchid craze has struck Japan with as much\\nviolence as the tulip craze once descended on helpless\\nHolland. A Japanese newspaper describes a new\\nvariety of orchids which, tho very small in size, en-\\nthusiasts contend for at the rate of $1,000 a leaf and\\nupward. What a happy world it would be if the\\nspiritual orchids, such as peace, faith, hope, love,", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0234.jp2"}, "235": {"fulltext": "THE FORKS OF THE ROAD.\\n225\\npatience, meekness, and goodness, were sought after\\nin as earnest a competition\\nTHE FORKS OF THE ROAD.\\nMany a young man or young woman stands where\\nthe roads diverge. One path goes to the right and\\none to the left; they do not seem to be very far apart\\nat the beginning, or to diverge rapidly at first; but\\nthey are as far apart as heaven and hell at the end.\\nClara Keniston sings the sorrow of one who took the\\nwrong path\\nOh, could I go back to the forks of the road\\nBack over the long miles I have carried the load\\nBack to the place where I had to decide,\\nBy this sign or that sign my footsteps to guide.\\nBack to the sorrow, back to the care,\\nBack to the place where the future was fair.\\nOh, were I there now, decision to make,\\nMy Father in heaven, which road would I take?\\nOh, could I go back to the forks of the road\\nWith the wisdom I ve gathered in bearing this load,\\nA different decision, dear God, would I make,\\nAnd the path of the righteous my footsteps should take.\\nThe broad road of pleasure no glory hath won,\\nIt hath brought me to anguish my whole life undone.\\nAnd now, at the end, ah, tis wretched and drear\\nMy heart is nigh breaking, I tremble with fear.\\nThe road is so tangled with briar and thorn,\\nTo find the way back I m ever o er worn\\nDeep-suck in despair I m wildered and lost\\nOf choosing the wrong road, how bitter the cost!\\n15", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0235.jp2"}, "236": {"fulltext": "226\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nIf God in his mercy would show me the way\\nTo return, to return, to the light of youth s day,\\nMy road I would choose by the sign of the Word\\nWith Jesus my Leader, my Way, and my Lord.\\nTHE WRECKS OF SELF-INDULGENCE.\\nA shamed and despairing woman stood in the police\\ncourt in Cleveland one morning upon a charge of in-\\ntoxication. Forty-seven times she had been in the\\nworkhouse. In fact, she had lodged there so often\\nthat it was the only home she had known for five\\nyears. She seemed that morning to have a new ap-\\npreciation of the depths to which her sin had plunged\\nher, and pleaded hard with the judge to allow her to\\ngo to her brother s home in the country. I will\\nnever drink again, she said; and, tho the court had\\nno hope, perhaps, for that, she was given twenty-four\\nhours to leave the city. This poor creature was forty-\\nfive years old. Ten years before she had been a\\nhappy wife and mother. But she would not deny\\nherself her glass of beer, and little by little it gained\\nthe mastery over her, until, forsaken by relatives and\\nfriends, she became a creature of the gutter. Alas\\nthat the city and the State make it so easy for the\\nweak to go wrong and so hard for them to go right.\\nA SKY-BORN MUSIC\\nIf heaven is mirrored in our hearts, we shall have\\nmusic under all the hard circumstances of life, and\\nknow what Christ meant when he said to his dis-\\nciples that he left his joy with them, and no man", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0236.jp2"}, "237": {"fulltext": "PROTECTING THE ORCHARD. 227\\nshould be able to take it away. Emerson must have\\nbeen singing out of his own heart-experience when he\\nwrote these glorious lines\\nLet me go where er I will\\nI hear a sky-born music still\\nIt sounds from all things old,\\nIt sounds from all things young,\\nFrom all that s fair, from all that s foul,\\nPeals out a cheerful song.\\nIt is not only in the rose,\\nIt is not only in the bird,\\nNot only where the rainbow glows,\\nNor in the song of woman heard,\\nBut in the darkest, meanest thing\\nThere alway, alway something sings.\\nTis not in the high stars alone,\\nNor in the cups of budding flowers,\\nNor in the redbreast s mellow tone,\\nNor in the bow that smiles in showers,\\nBut in the mud and scum of things\\nThere alway, alway something sings.\\nPROTECTING THE ORCHARD.\\nFrost is a frequent feature of orange-growing in\\nCalifornia, and many devices for keeping it from\\nharming the orchards have been tried from time to\\ntime with only partial success. During the day the\\nearth and trees become warm but as the night cools\\nthe atmosphere the process of radiation sets in, and\\nthe heat from the earth and the trees is carried off,\\nthe cold, frosty atmosphere taking its place. The\\nfarmers have discovered that this warm air must not\\nbe allowed to escape. The fact is evident that the", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0237.jp2"}, "238": {"fulltext": "228\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\ntrees must be covered. A fog would do this effectu-\\nally, but fogs can not be manufactured to order.\\nVarious experiments have been tried, but they have\\nfinally settled on a roof of leather and tho it costs\\n$400 an acre, it is soon returned in the great crops\\nof fruit the safety of which is assured by this process.\\nSpiritual gardeners who have to do with children and\\ngroups of young human plants in schools and churches\\nand families may well take to heart the suggestion of\\ncarefulness on the part of these California fruit-grow-\\ners. Nothing yields such priceless fruit and at the\\nsame time is so sensitive to destructive influences as\\nthe youthful human heart. To the wise spiritual gar-\\ndener no expense in care and thoughtfulness is too\\nmuch to insure the safety and growth of these young\\nimmortals.\\nTHE TRULY VALIANT.\\nShakespeare declares that the bravest man is the\\none who will suffer in body or purse rather than be\\ninjured in heart and character. In Timon of\\nAthens he brings this out in strong lines\\nHe s truly valiant, that can wisely suffer\\nThe worst that man can breathe and make his wrongs\\nHis outsides wear them like his raiment, carelessly\\nAnd ne er prefer his injuries to his heart,\\nTo bring it into danger.\\nTHE FLAVOR OF LIFE.\\nWithin recent years much of the tea consumed in\\nRussia has made the sea voyage from Chinese ports\\nto Odessa on the Black Sea; but Russians say that tea", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0238.jp2"}, "239": {"fulltext": "A SOUL-PARALYZING IF. 229\\ntransported by sea loses much in flavor and quality.\\nIn consequence of this the largest tea-merchants con-\\ntinue to receive the bulk of their stock by the over-\\nland route. Many Christians lose the sweet flavor of\\nspirituality out of their lives because they are in too\\ngreat a hurry to get their goods to market. The busi-\\nness man thinks he has not time to read the Bible in\\nthe morning with his family he has not time for\\nfamily prayers he has not time for secret devotions,\\nand so rushes into the busy life of the day without\\nthat delicate, Christlike flavor that would come to him\\nthrough fellowship with God s word and communion\\nwith Christ.\\nA SOUL-PARALYZING IF.\\nTo note the superiority of the Christian s hope and\\nfaith to that of the agnostic one has only to read the\\nfollowing lines which have been engraved on the grave\\nof Professor Huxley\\nAnd if there be no meeting past the grave,\\nIf all is darkness, silence, yet tis rest,\\nBe not afraid, ye waiting hearts that weep,\\nPor God still giveth his beloved sleep,\\nAnd if an endless sleep, he wills so best.\\nContrast this sort of consolation with Let not\\nyour heart be troubled; ye believe in God, believe\\nalso in me. In my Father s house are many man-\\nsions if it were not so, I would have told you. I go\\nto prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare\\na place for you, I will come again and receive you\\nunto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0239.jp2"}, "240": {"fulltext": "230\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nBREAKING DOWN BARRIERS.\\nA correspondent of the New York Sun, describing\\nthe scenes on that fatal Friday at Santiago, says that\\nwhile the proportion of colored men wounded was\\nlarge, by their courage and supreme cheerfulness they\\ncarried off the palm for heroism. Here is what one\\nof the wounded Rough Riders, Kenneth Robinson,\\nhas to say about the black soldiers: I ll tell you\\nwhat it is, said Robinson without any disregard to\\nmy own regiment I want to say that the whitest men\\nin this fight have been the black ones. At all events,\\nthey have been the best friends that the Rough Rid-\\ners have had, and every one of us, from Colonel\\nRoosevelt down, appreciates it. When our men were\\nbeing mowed down to right and left in that charge up\\nthe hill, it was the black cavalrymen who were the\\nfirst to carry our wounded away and during that\\nawful day and night that I lay in the field hospital,\\nit was two big colored men, badly wounded them-\\nselves, who kept my spirits up. Why, in camp every\\nnight before the fight, the colored soldiers used to\\ncome over and serenade Colonels Wood and Roosevelt.\\nAnd weren t they just tickled to death about it The\\nlast night before I was wounded a whole lot of them\\ncame over, and when Colonel Roosevelt made a little\\nspeech thanking them for their songs, one big ser-\\ngeant got up and said: It s all right, colonel; we s\\nall Rough Riders now. A common danger and a\\ncommon fellowship in suffering rapidly break down\\nall artificial barriers. It is one of the great triumphs", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0240.jp2"}, "241": {"fulltext": "SPARING THE FATHER TO SAVE THE BOYS. 231\\nof Christianity that the barriers between nations and\\nraces are becoming lower every year.\\nTHE LENS OF FAITH.\\nThe man or woman who is in earnest abont helping\\nto roll the world toward the light needs to look throngh\\nthat lens of faith abont which Whittier sings\\nO clear-eyed Faith, and Patience, thou\\nSo calm and strong\\nLend strength to weakness, teach us how\\nThe sleepless eyes of God look through\\nThis night of wrong\\nThe long night dies the welcome gray\\nOf dawn we see\\nSpeed up the heavens thy perfect day,\\nGod of the free\\nSPARING THE FATHER TO SAVE THE BOYS.\\nI had once in one of my churches an old man who\\nwas one of those ne er-do-wells who spend a good part\\nof their time falling into sin, and the rest in having\\npeople pull them out of it. The old fellow, every\\nlittle while, would get tempted away by bad company\\nor his own inherited appetite, and the first thing I\\nknew I would hear that he was tipsy again. There\\nwere several men in the church who were thoroughly\\ndisgusted with him and thought he ought to be ex-\\npelled. I thought myself that so far as he was con-\\ncerned, he deserved it. But the case was made per-\\nplexing by the fact that he had a good wife and a fine\\nfamily of growing boys, and my argument with these\\nbrethren who were determined to expel the old man", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0241.jp2"}, "242": {"fulltext": "232\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nwas that we would not only grieve this good woman s\\nheart, but would probably turn the boys away from\\nus forever. I never shall forget that when one of\\nthe boys suddenly came out openly to make a public\\nprofession as a Christian he said to me The thing\\nthat has done more to touch my heart and make me\\nwant to be a Christian than anything else is the pa-\\ntient and Christlike way in which you have borne\\nwith my father. The boy is one of the finest young\\nmen in the country, and I have always thought it paid\\nto bear with the father to save that boy.\\nA WONDERFUL WIZARD,\\nMany a charm can love work in our human lives.\\nIt can make the hardest toil sweet, and it can annihi-\\nlate distance and bring heaven s best comforts down\\ninto the darkest day of human experience. Lucy\\nLarcom sings:\\nOh, Love is a wonderful wizard\\nHe can see by his own keen light\\nHe laughs at the wrath of the tempest,\\nHe has never a fear of the night.\\nTwo lives that are wedded leagues hold not apart\\nLove can hear, e en through thunder, the beat of a heart\\nTHE RELATIVE VALUE OF THINGS.\\nIt is a wise man who keeps in mind the relative\\nvalue of two things offered him, either of which he\\nmay accept, but where the acceptance of one pre-\\ncludes the other. A man who had a chance to make\\none hundred dollars in an offered investment would", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0242.jp2"}, "243": {"fulltext": "AN AGED CHRISTIAN S VANTAGE-GROUND. 233\\nbe very foolish to accept it if by doing so lie lost the\\nopportunity of making a thousand dollars in another\\ninvestment, knowing that he must choose between\\nthem. That was the kind of blunder which Dives\\nmade in the old Gospel story. Lazarus made a fail-\\nure of life so far as business success was concerned,\\nand through some misfortune, the character of which\\nwe do not know, came at the last in his weakness and\\nsickness to be dependent upon charity but through it\\nall he kept his heart pure and his life clean, so that\\nthe angels were glad to carry him on their wings to\\nassociate with Abraham, the friend of G-od. Dives\\nhad much better opportunities than Lazarus for doing\\ngood and being good, but he gave himself up to self-\\nindulgence of the baser sort, and at the last was com-\\npelled to listen to the words of doom declaring that\\nhe in his lifetime had had his good things, and must\\nnow endure the evil things which the choice of his\\nlife had brought upon him. Lazarus and Dives are\\nboth well-known characters in every city and town in\\nthe land.\\nAN AGED CHRISTIAN S VANTAGE-GROUND.\\nTo the aged Christian both the retrospect and the\\nanticipation are full of comfort. Oliver Wendell\\nHolmes describes this most beautifully in his poem\\naddressed to Whittier on the grand old Quaker poet s\\neightieth birthday\\nFriend, whom thy fourscore winters leave more dear\\nThan when life s roseate summer on thy cheek\\nBurned in the flush of manhood s manliest year,", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0243.jp2"}, "244": {"fulltext": "234\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nLook backward From thy lofty height survey\\nThy years of toil, of peaceful victories won,\\nOf dreams made real, of largest hopes outrun\\nLook forward Brighter than earth s morning ray\\nStreams the pure light of Heaven s unsetting sun,\\nThe unclouded dawn of life s immortal day\\nANXIETY CONTAGIOUS.\\nMajor Waddell has been traveling in the Himalayas,\\nand has written a book in which he tells a very inter-\\nesting story of the leeches he found in the damp for-\\nest of the Teesta valley. When a leech is famishing,\\nhe is only as thick as a knitting-needle. When in\\nthat condition, he is the hungry enemy of every two-\\nfooted or four-footed creature which crosses his path.\\nThe leeches were everywhere. They held themselves\\nalert on every twig of the brushwood that overhung\\nthe track of the travelers and on every dead leaf on\\nthe path. As the men approached, they lashed them-\\nselves vigorously to and fro in the wild endeavor to\\nseize hold of them. The instant they touched their\\nvictims they fixed themselves firmly, and then mounted\\nnimbly up by a series of rapid somersaults till they\\nreached a vulnerable point and then they lost not an\\ninstant in beginning their surgical operations. The\\npoor servants who walked barefooted had little streams\\nof blood trickling all day from the places where they\\nwere bitten, and at every few steps they had to stop\\nand pick off these horrid little pests, and it was often\\ndifficult to dislodge them. The man who is in the\\nhabit of giving himself up to be anxious, and who\\nworries about everything, is a good deal like that", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0244.jp2"}, "245": {"fulltext": "REJECTED ROYALTY.\\n235\\nTeesta valley. Hungry leeches wriggle in his con-\\nversation and lash themselves to and fro from his\\nblue, grim face. It is a terrible thing to go through\\nthe world in such a spirit that one spreads the leeches\\nof anxiety and worry and fretfulness among those who\\nhave to come in contact with them.\\nTHE LIVING CREED,\\nIt is the living Christ, who went about doing good,\\nwho wept at the grave of friendship, who opened blind\\neyes and made sorrowful hearts glad, who brings God\\nclose to men. Tennyson sings it well\\nAnd so the Word had breath, and wrought\\nWith human hands the creed of creeds.\\nIn loveliness of perfect deeds,\\nMore strong than all poetic thought\\nWhich he may read that binds the sheaf,\\nOr builds the house, or digs the grave,\\nAnd those wild eyes that watch the wave\\nIn roarings round the coral reef.\\nREJECTED ROYALTY,\\nThe elder brother of the present Earl of Aberdeen,\\nwho was the sixth Earl of Aberdeen, left England in\\n1863, after quarreling with his father, and when the\\nlatter died, a year later, bequeathing to him the fam-\\nily honors and estates, he refused to return to Eng-\\nland or to assume his rank as a peer of the realm, but\\nremained abroad, mostly in American waters, earning\\nhis livelihood as a sailor before the mast. It was", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0245.jp2"}, "246": {"fulltext": "236\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nwhile serving as such that he disappeared from on\\nboard ship while on his way from Boston to Mel-\\nbourne, being presumably washed overboard in a\\nstorm. He had been Earl of Aberdeen for six years\\nwithout assuming possession of either the title or the\\nestates, living as a sailor before the mast when he\\nmight have lived the life of a wealthy British peer.\\nEvery sinner is doing a thing like that. We were\\nborn to be the children of God, to be joint heirs with\\nJ esus Christ but through sin men are uncrowned\\nthey refuse to accept their royal inheritance. And so\\nwe see every day men who might be the sons of God,\\nthe pride and glory of heaven, living debased and\\nbankrupt lives.\\nCARELESSNESS.\\nA man does not have to be malicious in his purpose\\nin order to leave a train of misery and sorrow behind\\nhim. All that is required is that he be careless about\\nwhat he does. Some unknown poet well illustrates it\\nHow easy it is to spoil a day\\nThe thoughtless words of cherished friends,\\nThe selfish act of a child at play,\\nThe strength of a will that will not bend,\\nThe slight of a comrade, the scorn of a foe,\\nThe smile that is full of bitter things\\nThey all can tarnish its golden glow,\\nAnd take the grace from its airy wings.\\nHow easy it is to spoil a day\\nBy the force of a thought we did not check\\nLittle by little we mold the clay,\\nAnd little flaws may the vessel wreck.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0246.jp2"}, "247": {"fulltext": "DESTROYED BY CONTEMPTIBLE ENEMIES. 237\\nThe careless waste of a white-winged horn-\\nThat held the blessing we long had sought,\\nThe sudden loss of wealth or power\\nAnd lo the day is with ill inwrought.\\nHow easy it is to spoil a life\\nAnd many are spoiled ere well begun\\nIn some life darkened by sin and strife,\\nOr downward course of a cherished one\\nBy toil, that robs the form of its grace,\\nAnd undermines till health gives way\\nBy the peevish temper, the frowning face,\\nThe hopes that go and the cares that stay.\\nA day is too long to be spent in vain\\nSome good should come as the hours go by\\nSome tangled maze may be more plain,\\nSome lowered glance may be raised on high.\\nAnd life is too short to spoil like this\\nIf only a prelude, it may be sweet\\nLet us bind together in threads of bliss\\nAnd nourish the flowers around our feet.\\nDESTROYED BY CONTEMPTIBLE ENEMIES.\\nA woman in Chicago recently lost a little chamois\\nbag containing a thousand dollars worth of jewels.\\nShe supposed it had been stolen, and a reward of two\\nhundred dollars was offered for the return of the dia-\\nmonds. Finally a detective was called into the case\\nwho in his youth had served as a powder-boy on a\\nman-of-war, and had become well acquainted with the\\ncustoms of rats. He made a search and soon found\\na hole in the wall through which it was possible the\\nmissing bag might have gone. A thorough examina-\\ntion discovered the lost jewels helping to make luxu-", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0247.jp2"}, "248": {"fulltext": "238\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nrious the nest of an old gray rat. Many people lose\\ntheir jewels of character not through the ravages of\\nsome lion -like enemy, but by the rat-like sins of sel-\\nfishness or indifference.\\nDOING OUR BEST.\\nGod never requires of any of us that we shall ac-\\ncomplish the impossible. A willing heart that does\\nthe best it can under the circumstances is always sure\\nof the divine approval. Ella Wheeler Wilcox sug-\\ngests the thought in her little poem, I ll Do What I\\nCan.\\nWho takes for his motto, I ll do what I can,\\nShall better the world as he goes down life s hill.\\nThe willing young heart makes the capable man\\nAnd who does what he can, oft can do what he will.\\nThere s strength in the impulse to help things along,\\nAnd forces undreamed-of will come to the aid\\nOf one who, tho weak, yet believes he is strong,\\nAnd offers himself to the task unafraid.\\nI ll do what I can, is a challenge to fate,\\nAnd fate must succumb when it s put to the test\\nA heart that is willing to labor and wait,\\nIn its tussle with life, ever comes out the best.\\nIt puts the blue imps of depression to rout,\\nAnd makes many difficult problems seem plain\\nIt mounts over obstacles, dissipates doubt,\\nAnd unravels kinks in life s curious chain.\\nI ll do what I can, keeps the progress machine\\nIn good working order as centuries roll\\nAnd civilization would perish, I ween,\\nWere those words not written on many a soul.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0248.jp2"}, "249": {"fulltext": "MYSELF AND I.\\n239\\nThey fell the great forests, they furrow the soil,\\nThey seek new inventions to benefit man,\\nThey fear no exertion, make pastime of toil.\\nOh, great is earth s debt to I ll do what I can.\\nPOWER OF EARLY ASSOCIATIONS.\\nA man may get old and wrinkled, but away down\\nin his heart there are memories of boyhood and youth\\nand the opening years of home fellowship which when\\nrecalled mellow his nature and arouse his best self.\\nEugene Field strikes deep into the heart of many a\\nstern-faced, gray -headed man when he sings\\nThere is no love like the good old love\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nThe love that mother gave us\\nWe are old, old men, yet we pine again\\nFor that precious grace God save us\\nSo we dream and dream of the good old times,\\nAnd our hearts grow tenderer, fonder,\\nAs those dear old dreams bring soothing gleams\\nOf heaven away off yonder.\\nMYSELF AND L\\nThe price of peace in our own hearts is righteous-\\nness of conduct. The man who does wrong may al-\\nways be certain of strife and unrest when he is alone.\\nClara Myers Knowlton gives us a true note in My-\\nself and I.\\nSometimes we re friends, yes, very good friends,\\nWhen all has gone our way\\nWhen we ve worked very well and then mixed in\\nSome right good fun and play,\\nAt night, quite peaceful, there we lie\\nAnd love each other, Myself and I.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0249.jp2"}, "250": {"fulltext": "240\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nSometimes we re foes, the awfullest foes,\\nWhen everything s gone amiss\\nWhen we ve left undone just scores of things\\nAnd think with regret of this,\\nAt night, in wakeful strife, we lie\\nAnd hate each other, Myself and I.\\nTHE DEVIL S SCARECROWS.\\nThe extraordinary situations in which nests are oc-\\ncasionally discovered almost gives one the impression\\nthat birds must be endowed with a sense of humor.,\\nFor instance, a bird in New England is reported to\\nhave selected, as the foundation on which to build its\\nnest, a scarecrow which the gardener had erected to\\nfrighten the bird away from his crop. That surely\\nlooks like poking fun at the gardener. The devil puts\\nup a good many scarecrows to keep men and women\\nfrom becoming Christians and to scare them from en-\\njoying the rich garden which the Lord cultivates for\\nthe pleasure of his children. The wise man will treat\\nthem as this New England bird treated the scarecrow\\nwith its useless gun.\\nTHE INNER SIGHT.\\nA man may have clear vision with the outer eye\\nand carry a blind soul, and a man may walk in dark-\\nness so that he see not the common things of the\\nworld but have spiritual perceptions that look on the\\nglories of heaven. Some one has written a little\\npoem in which some children are represented as\\nwatching a blind weaver at his task in a dark miser-", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0250.jp2"}, "251": {"fulltext": "THE WORLDLY CHURCH. 241\\nable cellar. They pity him in his suffering, but know\\nnot the visions which gladden the eyes of his spirit\\nHis form is famine-gaunt and bowed,\\nHis aged hands have lost their skill\\nBut, like the moon within a cloud,\\nA hidden light his soul doth fill.\\nIt shineth through his careworn face,\\nAnd o er his sordid garb it flings\\nThe viewless mantle of a grace\\nNot found in palaces of kings.\\nOn journeys high his spirit fares,\\nOf realms of sunless light is free\\nThe triumph of the saints he shares,\\nHe stands beside the Crystal Sea.\\nHe hears the mystic anthem tone\\nHe mingles with the tearless throng\\nWho meet before the Great White Throne\\nHis voice uplifts the Wedding Song.\\nTHE WORLDLY CHURCH,\\nOne of the most peculiar cases of discovery is re-\\nported to have taken place at Soulac, in Gascony.\\nIn the first place, a cross was discovered projecting\\nabove the ground; as it was difficult to move, the\\nsurrouncling sand was dug away, revealing the fact\\nthat it was attached to a steeple and further excava-\\ntion showed that the steeple formed part of a well-\\npreserved church of the thirteenth century, which has\\nnow been entirely dug out, and is in use. This inter-\\nesting incident suggests a like condition illustrated in\\nmany churches built in modern times. They are cov-\\n16", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0251.jp2"}, "252": {"fulltext": "242\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nered over with worldliness. They are so full of pride,\\nand worldly competitions, and earthly dependence,\\nthat there is scarcely so much as a cross left above\\nthe earth to suggest the sacred purpose of their origi-\\nnal building. What a glorious thing it would be for\\nChristianity if all these worldly churches could be\\ndug out and aroused earnestly to set about their Mas-\\nter s business.\\nTHE LAW OF PROGRESS.\\nMen who give themselves resolutely to work al-\\nways find that they are able to accomplish more than\\nseemed possible while they were idle. The horizon\\nwidens as the traveler climbs upward. Many a Chris-\\ntian who feels that he is not able to accomplish any-\\nthing in the Lord s vineyard would be astonished at\\nhis achievements if he would only go to work in the\\nright spirit Amelia Barr illustrates our thought in\\nWhen I Went Out to Glean\\nWhen I went out to glean\\nThe field was brown and bare,\\nBut as I worked I found\\nMy sheaf was always there.\\nWhen I went out to glean\\nThere was so little light\\nBut soon the sun rose high\\nAnd made the shadows bright.\\nWhen I went out to glean\\nI thought the field so small,\\nBut lo it grew and grew\\nBeyond my ken, or call.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0252.jp2"}, "253": {"fulltext": "UNSELFISHNESS.\\n243\\nThanks, Ancient Giver, thanks\\nThine handmaiden has seen\\nHow kind thou art to those\\nWho in thy fields go glean.\\nLord of the Harvest, grant\\nThat at the last I bring\\nMy sheaves all ripe and full,\\nTo thy ingathering.\\nAUGMENTERS OF SPIRITUAL EMPIRE.\\nBy Germany s purchase of the Spanish islands in\\nthe Pacific, the Kaiser has acquired additional right\\nto be regarded as Augmenter of the Empire. This\\nwas one of the proudest titles attached to the impe-\\nrial office in medieval times, and it was revived by\\nWilliam I. when he restored Alsace-Lorraine to Ger-\\nmany. His grandson, William II., first justified his\\nclaim when he acquired Heligoland. Every Chris-\\ntian ought to aspire to become an augmenter of the\\nspiritual empire of Jesus Christ. Every man or\\nwoman or child whom we persuade to renounce evil\\nand accept Christ as a personal Savior and Lord is\\nthe adding of a new kingdom to the dominion of Him\\nwho shall finally reign over all the earth.\\nUNSELFISHNESS.\\nThe beauty of unselfishness and its superiority over\\nthe selfish life in God s thought are well illustrated\\nin Prof A. A. Bragdon s poem, The Two Monks.\\nA worthy monk, as ancient legends say,\\nPlanted, with care, a tender tree one day,\\nThinking with joy how it would grow anon,\\nAnd yield him profit from the fruit thereon.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0253.jp2"}, "254": {"fulltext": "244\\nPOETRY AND MORALS;\\nPleased with his task, upon the spot he bowed,\\nAnd to himself with pious pride he vowed:\\nNow I will pray each day, and God will give\\nWhate er I ask to make the sapling live.\\nAnd to his credit be it written now,\\nNot even once did he forget his vow\\nBut morn and eve he came to view the tree,\\nAnd asked for what he saw its needs to be.\\nHe prayed for rain, and gentle showers fell\\nHe prayed for sun, and sunshine came as well\\nAnd when he asked for dew, there came the dew\\nFor winds to blow, then grateful breezes blew.\\nFor storm to strengthen, or for heat or cold,\\nWhate er he craved not once did God withhold\\nAnd yet in vain the selfish plan he tried\\nFor all his prayers, the sapling drooped and died.\\nAnother monk his tree had planted, too,\\nAnd day by day its spreading branches grew\\nAbove the way, to shelter as they pass\\nGod s weary children going up to mass\\nAnd travelers oft, aside their burdens laid,\\nSat there and rested in its peaceful shade.\\nOne day they met among the shadows there,\\nJust as the convent bell had called to prayer.\\nNow tell me, Brother John, the first monk said,\\nWhy your tree thrives, while mine, alas is dead?\\nI pruned it well and tended it with care,\\nAnd twice each day I told its needs in prayer.\\nThe other monk in meekness bowed his head,\\nWhile with a sweet humility he said\\nMy simple mind could not presume to know\\nJust what was best to make a sapling grow,\\nAnd so I put it in God s care, and left the rest\\nTo Him who made the tree, and knows the best", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0254.jp2"}, "255": {"fulltext": "A TASTE OF HEAVEN.\\n245\\nI never asked for sun or rain or frost,\\nI only prayed Give what it needeth most.\\nTHE HEALING POWER OF FREEDOM.\\nSome interesting facts have been discovered about\\nthe disease of tetanus, commonly called lockjaw. It\\nhas been discovered that tetanns is an infectious\\ndisease, due to the action of a microbe; and, altho\\none of the most fatal of diseases, is probably one\\nof the most easily preventible in many cases. The\\nwound should be thoroughly cleaned and drained as\\nonly a good surgeon and physician can do it, and\\nnever by amateurs. Cauterization, the old way of\\ntreating such wounds, has proved to be a pernicious\\npractise because it makes a crust over the wound and\\nactually imprisons the microbes, thus promoting in-\\nfection. The bacillus of tetanus lives without air,\\nor at least is killed by free air. There are many\\nsocial diseases, that are only spread the more widely\\nby the cauterization process which has been tried in\\nRussia and some other foreign countries, which bid\\nfair to come to their death in the free air of American\\npublic discussion.\\nA TASTE OF HEAVEN.\\nHeaven is certain only to the man or woman who\\nlives in the heavenly spirit here. How beautifully\\nMatthew Arnold has sung this truth\\nTwas August, and the fierce sun overhead\\nSmote on the squalid streets of Bethnal Green,\\nAnd the pale weaver, through his windows seen\\nIn Spitalfields, looked thrice dispirited.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0255.jp2"}, "256": {"fulltext": "246\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nI met a preacher there I knew, and said\\n111 and o erworked, how fare you in this scene?\\nBravely, said he for I of late have been\\nMuch cheered with thoughts of Christ, the living Bread.\\nO human soul so long as thou canst so\\nSet up a mark of everlasting light\\nAbove the howling senses ebb and flow\\nTo cheer thee, and to right thee if thou roam\\nNot with lost toil thou laborest through the night\\nThou mak st the heaven thou hop st indeed thy home.\\nMISFITS,\\nIn an address at Fall River, Mass., Captain Sigs-\\nbee, whose name will go down to history as the cap-\\ntain of the ill-fated Maine at the time of her destruc-\\ntion, told a story illustrative of the fact that naval\\nmen made no pretense at being orators. It is a\\nvery difficult situation for me, said Captain Sigsbee,\\nto be required to make a speech, and I am in the\\nsituation of the old sailor who was very fond of tea,\\nand was devoted to the people who served it. But\\nthis old sailor had no society manners, and had never\\nattended an afternoon tea. He was afraid of the\\nladies, but in some way he was forced to an after-\\nnoon tea. He went almost in despair, and when he\\ngot back to his ship his mates said: Brown, did you\\ngo to the tea? I did How did you feel there?\\nI felt like a sperm-whale doing crochet work.\\nThere are a great many men who manage to shove\\nthemselves for life into the wrong pigeon-hole and\\nseem never to know how to get out. Parents and", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0256.jp2"}, "257": {"fulltext": "THE AGE OF LIGHT.\\n247\\nteachers ought to study carefully the beut and ten-\\ndency of the young mind, and give a child a fair\\nchance to prepare to do well the thing for which he\\nor she is adapted by charter of creation.\\nTHE GREAT CURSE.\\nThis strong exhortation of Whittier s, written as\\na battle-cry in another reform, may well be applied\\nto the present fight against the liquor-saloon\\nAbove the maddening cry for blood,\\nAbove the wild war-drumming,\\nLet Freedom s voice be heard, with good\\nThe evil overcoming.\\nGive prayer and purse\\nTo stay the Curse\\nWhose wrong we share,\\nWhose shame we bear,\\nWhose end shall gladden Heaven\\nTHE AGE OF LIGHT.\\nThe locomotives of fast passenger trains in the fu-\\nture will be equipped with powerful electric double-\\nray headlights, designed to give added safety to all\\ntrains traveling at night. The apparatus is so ar-\\nranged that the engineer in his cab will be able to\\ndetermine the proximity of any train within seeing\\ndistance, according to atmospheric conditions, by\\nlooking up in the air as well as along the track\\nahead. This new invention, besides furnishing an\\narc headlight of four thousand candle-power and a\\nvertical signal-beam of two thousand candle-power,\\nis designed to supply an entire train of sleeping-cars", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0257.jp2"}, "258": {"fulltext": "248\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nor passenger-coaches with incandescent lights. While\\nthe apparatus is designed especially for railroad serv-\\nice, it can be used on vessels at sea or by the gov-\\nernment service for signaling and other purposes.\\nThe most important feature of the system is the plan\\nfor utilizing a portion of the light as a signal to indi-\\ncate, at a distance, the approximate location of a lo-\\ncomotive approaching from any direction. This sig-\\nnal-beam of light can be seen from any point within\\na radius of from five to ten miles, according to the\\nweather. This is truly the age of light. Free\\nschools, free press, free speech, free Bible these are\\nthe great headlights which are finding their way to\\nthe ends of the earth under the mighty impulse of\\nHim who is the Light of the world.\\nTHE BREAD OF LIFE. t\\nJohn S. Browning, in The Bread of Life, sounds\\na strong note concerning the great supreme mission\\nof the pulpit\\nSouls must be fed\\nWhen Famine stalks, lean-visaged, through the land\\nMen pity the outstretched, imploring hand\\nAnd give it bread,\\nThe while the people hunger, faint, and die\\nWhom naught but Bread of Life can satisfy.\\nNo empty word\\nCan fill the mighty world-heart with content\\nAmbrosia from Olympus must be sent.\\nHe shall be heard\\nWho has the mountain peaks transfigured trod,\\nAnd brings a message from the living God.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0258.jp2"}, "259": {"fulltext": "THE FASCINATIONS OF SIN 249\\nTHE FASCINATIONS OF SIN.\\nAn African hunter says that he was once shooting\\nin Natal when he saw an instance of the complete\\nparalysis of a bird by a snake His attention was\\nfirst attracted by something moving on the branch of\\na tree, about ten feet above the ground, He then\\nsaw that it was a Cape cobra of the deadly kind,\\nstanding erect with only the lowest coils of its tail\\naround the branch, with its hood expanded, and\\nswaying from side to side. On going nearer he saw,\\nwhat he had not noticed before, a pigeon sitting on\\nthe branch about a yard from the snake. It was\\nperfectly motionless, not crouched on the bough, but\\nstanding up, and made not the slightest attempt to\\nfly away. He shot the snake, but neither the fall of\\nthe creature nor the report seemed to bring it to itself\\nat first. After a little it slowly walked along the\\nbough into the center of the tree, where it soon re-\\ncovered from the shock to its nerves. This is said\\nto be an authentic case of what is sometimes dis-\\nputed, the power of serpents to fascinate birds.\\nWhatever may be true in these cases, there is cer-\\ntainly abundant evidence to prove the power of the\\nevil one to fascinate men and women with certain\\nsins, and hold them as if in a stupor of their reason-\\ning faculties until it is too late to save them. It is\\nthe duty of Christians to seek to break this fatal\\nspell by which so many are being destroyed.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0259.jp2"}, "260": {"fulltext": "250\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nFLABBINESS IN MANHOOD.\\nOne of the dangers of our time is that we shall lose\\nthe iron out of our blood, and not know how to fight\\nfor righteousness in dead earnest. These volcanic\\nwords of James Eussell Lowell might well arouse\\nthose who have to confront some great public sinners\\nof our own day\\nLet us speak plain there is more force in names\\nThan most men dream of and a lie may keep\\nIts throne a whole age longer, if it skulk\\nBehind the shield of some fair-seeming name.\\nLet us call tyrants tyrants, and maintain\\nThat only freedom comes by grace of God,\\nAnd all that comes not by his grace must fall\\nFor men in earnest have no time to waste\\nIn patching fig-leaves for the naked truth.\\nTHE POWER OF COMMAND.\\nA distinguished man recently said I should say,\\nas a general proposition, that the man who can not\\ncontrol himself can not control anybody else. There\\nare exceptions to this rule, in the case of some men\\nof such superabundant strength that they seem for a\\ntime to be able to laugh at natural laws and the cus-\\ntoms of men, to give themselves license and yet com-\\npel restraint in others. But such men are compara-\\ntively rare, their reign of power but temporary, and\\nthey never reach the most exalted heights of author-\\nity. As for the ordinary man and he is in the very\\ngreat majority among men he can not expect to\\ncommand at all unless he will first show the power", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0260.jp2"}, "261": {"fulltext": "BUILT ON THE SAND.\\n251\\nof absolute command over himself. This is a stri-\\nking and graphic comment on the old oft-quoted adage\\nof the Bible, that He that is slow to anger is better\\nthan the mighty and he that ruleth his spirit than\\nhe that taketh a city.\\nSLANDER.\\nWhen it comes to dealing with the sin of slander\\nno man cuts with a sharper blade than Shakespeare.\\nIn the third act of Cymbeline, he says\\nNo, tis slander,\\nWhose edge is sharper than the sword whose tongue\\nOutvenoms all the worms of Nile whose breath\\nRides on the posting winds, and doth belie\\nAll corners of the world kings, queens, and states,\\nMaids, matrons, nay, the secrets of the grave\\nThis viperous slander enters,\\nBUILT ON THE SAND.\\nCurious but dangerous freaks of nature are fre-\\nquently found in the deserts of Arizona. There are\\nfound what are called sumideros by the Mexicans\\nand Indians. They are masked pitfalls of quicksand\\nthat occur in the dry plains, and are covered with a\\ntreacherous crust of clay that has been spread over\\nthem in fine particles by the wind and baked dry by\\nthe sun. The peculiar properties of the soil retain\\nall the moisture drained into them after the infre-\\nquent rains, and allow it to be filtered to unknown\\ndepths, so that a man or a horse or a cow or a sheep\\nthat once steps on that deceptive crust instantly sinks\\nout of sight beyond hope of rescue. The sumideros", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0261.jp2"}, "262": {"fulltext": "252\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nare on a level with the surface of the desert- There is\\nno danger-signal to mark them, and their surface can\\nnot be distinguished by the ordinary eye from the hard\\nclay that surrounds them. They occur most frequent-\\nly in the alkali-covered flats, and are often fifteen or\\ntwenty feet in diameter. Sometimes they are only\\nlittle pockets or wells that a man can leap across\\nbut the longest pole has never found their bottom.\\nA stone thrown through the crust sinks to unknown\\ndepths, and no man who ever fell into one of them was\\never rescued, They account for the mysterious disap-\\npearance of many men and cattle. How suggestive\\nthese sumideros of the desert are of the description\\nwhich Jesus gives of the man who comes to know of\\nthe Gospel and its salvation and yet does not act on\\nit Of him who knows the requirements of the Lord,\\nand yet lives as tho he had never heard of them,\\nJesus says He shall be likened unto a foolish man,\\nwhich built his house upon the sand: and the rain\\ndescended, and the floods came, and the winds blew,\\nand beat upon that house and it fell\\nTHE HAPPIEST HEART.\\nJohn Vance Cheney sets forth in a pretty way the\\nthought that the happiest heart is found in the quiet\\nway of life rather than in the midst of the turmoil of\\ncompetition for riches and fame and power\\nWho drives the horses of the sun\\nShall lord it but a day\\nBetter the lowly deed were done,\\nAnd kept the humble way.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0262.jp2"}, "263": {"fulltext": "PLENTY OF ROOM AT THE TOP. 253\\nThe rust will find the sword of fame,\\nThe dust will hide the crown\\nAye, none shall nail so high his name\\nTime will not tear it down.\\nThe happiest heart that ever beat\\nWas in some quiet breast\\nThat found the common daylight sweet,\\nAnd left to heaven the rest.\\nPLENTY OF ROOM AT THE TOP.\\nIn the case of Jacob Gould Schurman, president of\\nCornell University, whom President McKinley made\\nchairman of the Philippine Commission, we are called\\nto notice that the stairway is still open for every\\nyoung man or young woman of ability and energy\\nwho is willing to pay the price of noble success.\\nEver since President Schurman was thirteen years\\nold he has been compelled to work his own way in\\nthe world. By hard toil he earned every dollar by\\nwhich he got his education, and kept at it year after\\nyear until he became one of the great scholars of the\\nworld. And so it happened that, at thirty-eight\\nyears of age, a boy who worked in a grocery store for\\nthree years at thirty dollars a year, and who went\\nwithout his dinner many a time in order to save\\nmoney to buy books, found himself at the head of a\\ngreat university. Let every boy take notice that the\\nstairway is open toward the top, and the angels of\\nhope and courage, who cheered the heart of Jacob so\\nlong ago, will not fail to give inspiration to every\\nnew Jacob who will climb with honest heart and\\nfaithful purpose.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0263.jp2"}, "264": {"fulltext": "254\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nCHRIST S COMING VICTORY.\\nSome one sings of the coming victory of Jesus with\\nan optimism and a courage which make the blood burn\\nwith anticipation. Let us help the coming of that\\nglorious day.\\nThe world swings out toward the light,\\nAnd skies are growing clearer,\\nThe gray of dawn is on the hills,\\nThe golden glow grows nearer.\\nFor ever when the night grows long,\\nAnd human moans ascendeth,\\nGod s justice strikes the haughty wrong,\\nAnd his long-suffering endeth.\\nSince Calvary and Olivet,\\nThere is no hopeless sorrow\\nWrong ever builds a tottering throne,\\nAnd Christ shall reign to-morrow.\\nTHE VALUE OF AN OPPORTUNITY.\\nThe great Eothschilds fortune had its broad foun-\\ndation laid by the genius of that member of the fam-\\nily who, mounted on a fleet horse, kept so close to\\nWellington at the battle of Waterloo that the Iron\\nDuke muttered a threat to hang the skulking Jew\\nif he did not keep his distance. Eothschild waited\\nonly to see the beginning of Napoleon s rout, and\\nspurred his steed to Brussels. There he took carriage\\nto Ostend. A wild storm was raging, but he paid a\\nboatman $500 to ferry him to Dover, and he was in\\nLondon eight hours before the official news of the", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0264.jp2"}, "265": {"fulltext": "CHRISTIAN KNIGHTHOOD. 255\\ngreat victory. In that eight hours he made millions\\nof dollars, and laid the foundation for the greatest\\nfortune the world has ever known. Great results\\noften depend on the seizing of an opportunity the in-\\nstant it is presented. The word opportunity means\\nopposite a port, and the sailor will soon drift by\\nthe channel if he does not enter at the right moment.\\nMany a man misses salvation that way. To-day is\\nthe day of salvation\\nCHRISTIAN KNIGHTHOOD.\\nMrs. Farningham has a song of the young boy of\\nto-day who bows at the feet of J esus to be set apart\\nas a knight of Christ s new chivalry. It is a picture\\nto warm one s heart\\nHe kneels before the King,\\nHis yonng head bent\\nHis flashing eyes lid-veiled,\\nHis heart intent.\\nHe vows to spend his life\\nIn true endeavor,\\nAnd he will serve the Christ\\nHis King forever.\\nA touch is on his head\\nAnd on his heart.\\nArise, my knight, Christ says,\\nAnd do thy part.\\nWho kneels before the King\\nIn true surrender\\nMay lift his loyal head\\nA brave defender", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0265.jp2"}, "266": {"fulltext": "256\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nAh, loyal heart, toe glad\\nChrist calls to thee\\nKneel thou before the King\\nYoung, strong, and free.\\nGo forth, and do not quail\\nWhere battle rages.\\nChrist will knight noblemen\\nThrough all the ages.\\nINSPIRATION TO TOIL.\\nA Philadelphia contractor, who has recently re-\\nturned from the Sudan, tells an interesting fact con-\\nnected with the building by the English of the new\\nmilitary railroad in that region. With every gang of\\nforty or fifty men are assigned two harpers and a flute\\nplayer. Music is furnished almost continuously, and\\nso long as the musicians play the workmen do not\\nseem to feel the fatigue, and their movements are\\nconformed as nearly as possible to the time of the\\nmusic. As a general thing the players get tired be-\\nfore the workmen do. To a white man the melody\\nproduced by these cheerers of labor would not be in-\\nspiring, for it is peculiarly plaintive. The Africans,\\nhowever, find the music a great inspiration, and work\\nwith cheerfulness and despatch. The Philadelphian\\ndeclares that the idea is one well worth considering,\\nfor it is well known that colored laborers and steve-\\ndores along the river-front will work harder and faster\\nif permitted to sing. There is a noble philosophy in\\nall this, and every one of us may take the slavery\\nout of our toil by performing it to an accompanying\\nmelody at the heart. It is not the work we do, so", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0266.jp2"}, "267": {"fulltext": "THE GOLD GOD.\\n257\\nmuch as the spirit in which we do it, that gives it its\\nmoral quality and dictates the effect it will have upon\\nus.\\nMAKE THE MOST OF YOUTH.\\nYouth is such a receptive period, and its possibili-\\nties of acquiring force for after years are so great,\\nthat every young person ought to make the very most\\nof its strong vital days. Eichard Henry Stoddard\\nsings our message\\nThere are gains for all our losses,\\nThere are balms for all our pains\\nBut when youth, the dream, departs,\\nIt takes something from our hearts,\\nAnd it never comes again.\\nWe are stronger, and are better,\\nUnder manhood s sterner reign\\nStill we feel that something sweet\\nFollowed youth, with flying feet,\\nAnd will never come again.\\nSomething beautiful is vanished,\\nAnd we sigh for it in vain\\nWe behold it everywhere,\\nOn the earth, and in the air\\nBut it never comes again.\\nTHE GOLD GOD.\\nI was traveling recently with an old Jewish mer-\\nchant, who had commenced his career in a Western\\ncity fifty years ago, and who has been accumulating\\nmoney all these years until he is now a millionaire,\\ntho as hot in the chase for the dollars as in his\\n17", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0267.jp2"}, "268": {"fulltext": "258\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nyounger years. His whole thought and being seemed\\nabsorbed in the matter of getting money. He told\\nme his wife was very different from himself she was\\nfond of music and books and art. She came to me\\nthe other day, said he, with a book on astronomy\\nin her hands, and said: Jacob, there is going to be\\na new star; let me read to you about it. But,\\nsaid the old man, I answered her by lifting both\\nhands and exclaiming: Don t bother me, Eebecca!\\nI care more about the price of overalls than about all\\nthe stars in the sky. It seemed to me a striking\\nillustration of the power of the money-getting in-\\nstinct, when given full sway in a man s life, to drown\\nout all desire for higher things,\\nHOW TO HASTEN CHRIST S COMING REIGN.\\nSarah Doudney has a striking poem on the coming\\nof Jesus among men, that ought to arouse us to help\\non the kingdom of our Lord in the earth\\nWhen the strife of tongues shall cease,\\nAnd in places still\\nThose who seek eternal peace\\nLearn to do his will\\nWhen the heart begins to speak\\nWhile the lips are dumb,\\nAnd the strong upholds the weak,\\nThen the Lord will come.\\nWhen with deeds, not words, we praise\\nGod in many lands\\nWhen m dreary twilight days\\nHands are clasping hands", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0268.jp2"}, "269": {"fulltext": "THE IDEAL PHYSICIAN.\\n259\\nWhen through all the clash of creeds\\nTruth is speaking clear,\\nAnd the soul knows what it needs,\\nThen the Lord is near.\\nEvery ill that we suppress,\\nEvery kindness shown,\\nEvery word of tenderness\\nBuilds his earthly throne\\nWhen the tarnished gold grows bright,\\nWhen old evils die,\\nWhen the spotted robe is white,\\nThen the Lord draws nigh.\\nWhen within the heart of doubt\\nHope divine is born\\nWhen the altar lights go out\\nIn the breath of morn\\nWhen on rock and desert place\\nLove s sweet fruits appear,\\nLift your heads, ye weary race,\\nFor your Lord is here\\nTHE IDEAL PHYSICIAN,\\nDr. Osier, in an address before the students of the\\nAlbany Medical College, recently urged them to be\\ncareful after they get into practise to cultivate equally\\nwell their hearts and their heads. The doctor says\\nthere is a strong feeling abroad that doctors are given\\nnowadays to science, that they care much more for\\nthe disease and for the scientific aspect of it than for\\nthe individual. And so the doctor urges medical stu-\\ndents to care more particularly for the individual pa-\\ntient than for the special features of the disease.\\nDealing as we do, he says, with poor, suffering", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0269.jp2"}, "270": {"fulltext": "260\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nhumanity, we see the man unmasked, exposed to all\\nthe frailties and weaknesses, and you ve got to keep\\nyour heart pretty soft and pretty tender not to get too\\ngreat a contempt for your fellow creatures, The best\\nway to do that is to keep a looking-glass in your own\\nhearts, and the more carefully you scan your own\\nfrailties, the more tender you are for the frailties of\\nyour fellow creatures Christ is the ideal Physician\\nbecause he never looks on us with contempt. Be-\\nneath all the weakness and frailty of human nature\\nhe beholds the divine values that are worth every\\nsacrifice.\\nCHRIST OUR REFUGE.\\nChrist is a refuge to which every tried soul may\\nflee and find certain safety. The gates of love to his\\nheart are always open and the enemy of souls is never\\nable to keep the sincere penitent from finding the way\\nin. It was the consciousness of this refuge which\\nmany years ago enabled a French nobleman, who was\\nkept in a dungeon of the king merely because of his\\nreligion, to sing the beautiful words of Margaret of\\nValois\\nO Refuge helpful, safe, accessible,\\nFor all afflicted, and the orphan s Judge,\\nTreasure of consolation ever full,\\nThese iron doors, these drawbridges,\\nThat barrier that now encloses me,\\nKeep me far removed from neighbors,\\nBrothers, sisters, and kind friends,\\nNevertheless, where er I may be placed,\\nContrivance none can shut the door\\nSo close that in the instant thou art not with me.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0270.jp2"}, "271": {"fulltext": "A CALL FOR EARNESTNESS. 261\\nA UNIVERSAL COIN.\\nFor many years commercial men of all nationalities\\nhave spoken and written on the subject of the intro-\\nduction of a system of coinage which should have a\\nuniversal standard. The proposition has failed to\\nmeet with success on account of the difficulty of per-\\nsuading the people of different countries to abandon\\ntheir own systems of coinage, which appear to them\\npart and parcel of themselves as much as their lan-\\nguage itself. But a distinguished financier has re-\\ncently said that the time seems approaching when it\\nwill be possible for the great nations of the earth to\\nmeet in convention and adopt a coin which shall be\\ncosmopolitan. In the moral and social world honesty\\nand truth as the basis of manhood and womanhood are\\na universal coin. Through all the civilized world\\nthey are never below par in any land,\\nA CALL FOR EARNESTNESS.\\nNothing great is ever accomplished by people who\\nare overcautious and too prudent Real achievement\\ndemands great earnestness of spirit that dares every-\\nthing to accomplish the end in view. Browning real-\\nized this when he said\\nSome one shall somehow run amuck\\nWith this old world, for want of strife\\nSound asleep. Contrive, contrive\\nTo rouse us, Waring Who s alive?\\nOur men scarce seem in earnest now.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0271.jp2"}, "272": {"fulltext": "262\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nWITHOUT SPOT OR BLEMISH.\\nOne of the largest stones ever quarried, until re-\\ncently, in this country was the monolith for the Gen-\\neral Worth monument erected in New York. This\\nshaft weighed one hundred and seventy-five tons\\nwhen quarried. After it was all ready for erection,\\nhaving been quarried at an enormous expense, it was\\nfound to contain a slight defect, and the contractors\\nwere obliged to furnish another. How sad the trag-\\nedy when a human character has passed through all\\nthe workshops of life and is at last thrown aside be-\\ncause of defects which have been overlooked amid the\\ndusty and noisy experiences of this world s quarry.\\nLet us be careful that there in nothing covered up that\\nwill humiliate us in the blazing light of the judgment-\\nday.\\nWEALTH IN APPRECIATION*\\nThe appreciative soul is always a rich soul. The\\nman or woman who cultivates the part of observation\\nand appreciation, whether rich or poor on the tax-as-\\nsessors books, owns all the beauty and glory of every\\nland. Mrs. Farningham sings this great truth after\\ntelling of the splendid garden, which is, however, the\\nproperty of her friend\\nThe garden is my friend s, not mine,\\nBut fragrance, song, and flower\\nAnd lifted leaf, and climbing vine\\nAre mine for any hour.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0272.jp2"}, "273": {"fulltext": "THE POWER OF PERSONAL INFLUENCE. 263\\nHere birds to me their message bring,\\nBuds make their secrets known,\\nAnd I can in the garden sing\\nAs if it were my own.\\nWhat matter who the owners be?\\nTo-day it gives its best to me.\\nI have no tree in any grove,\\nYet all the world is mine,\\nSince God has given me power to love,\\nAnd see his works divine.\\nI joy in what my friends possess\\nAnd God my Father grants\\nHis light shall cheer, his word shall bless,\\nHis hand supply my wants.\\nThe world shall be a garden fair\\nBecause his love is everywhere.\\nTHE POWER OF PERSONAL INFLUENCE.\\nA recent writer has well said that type can not con-\\nvey the most important thing in an address, the speak-\\ner s personality. To get the full impression of his\\nideas we need, not merely to hear what he says,\\nbut to see and hear how he says it. Frequently a\\nman s words are only what the wire is to the electric\\ncurrent a means of conveying forces and impressions\\nand inspiration. Hearing the words only, you only\\nhave a lifeless wire. It is because of this that the\\nprinting-press will never supersede the human tongue\\nas the instrument for propagating the Gospel. The\\nspeaker s personality and temper give to his words\\nwings. Through the spoken word the hearer is\\nbrought into immediate relation with the speaker s\\ncharacter, conviction, and weight of manhood. Per-", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0273.jp2"}, "274": {"fulltext": "264\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nsonal forces touch personal forces through the spoken\\nword. No merchant who is solicitous to receive an\\nimportant order would think of negotiating it even\\nthrough a telephone, if personal impression is to be a\\nfactor in influencing his customer s decision. He\\nwants to see him or to have some one who adequately\\nrepresents him see him face to face There is not\\nlikely to be any means discovered quite so potent in\\ninfluencing men as the spoken word In winning\\nmen to Christ the Christian needs to take into account\\nall the weight of this matter of personal force. He\\nshould use it all loyally for his Lord.\\nMOTHERHOOD AND THE POETS.\\nMany poets have written beautifully of motherhood,\\nand have laid sweet lines at the feet of their own\\nmothers. Cowper wrote on the death of his mother\\nMy mother when I learned that thou wast dead,\\nSay, wast thou conscious of the tears I shed\\nHover d thy spirit o er thy sorrowing son?\\nWretch even then, life s journey just begun.\\nN. P. Willis sang:\\nMy mother s voice how often creep\\nIts accents o er my lonely hours\\nLike healing, sent on wings of sleep,\\nOr dew to the unconscious flowers.\\nColeridge wrote\\nA mother is a mother still,\\nThe holiest thing alive.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0274.jp2"}, "275": {"fulltext": "COMMONPLACE HEROES. 265\\nCOMMONPLACE HEROES.\\nThe world could not be so rich in heroes of the\\ntype of Hobson and Dewey and Roosevelt, and many\\nothers one might mention whose names have been on\\nthe public tongue recently, if it were not that the\\ncommon soil of our modern life is rich in heroes\\nwhose names never get before the public. Eecently\\nthere was a fire in the Clear Creek mine in Utah.\\nThe men were called out. They were about to shut\\noff the air in order to stop the flames, when it was\\nlearned that a single miner was working deep in the\\nmine beyond the point where the fire started and was\\nthen raging with growing strength. The foreman\\nimmediately called for volunteers to go with him into\\nthe mine to rescue the man. Several attempts were\\nmade by different ones, but they were driven back by\\nthe flames. Finally Heber Franklin, a young man\\nwhose work keeps him on the outside, said I will\\ngo and accompanying Foreman Thomas he passed\\non through the fire and found the man working away\\ntamping a hole, entirely unconscious of the danger\\nthreatening him. They succeeded in getting out of\\nthe mine safely, and the fan was shut off and the dip\\nclosed up. The rescue was an act of great bravery\\non the part of Franklin, as his work kept him on the\\noutside, and he was unacquainted with the exact lay\\nof the land inside, and the danger of suffocation from\\nblack damp was great. Ten minutes more of lost\\ntime would have resulted in the death of the miner\\nwho was thus saved. Thus it is that opportunities", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0275.jp2"}, "276": {"fulltext": "266\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nfor heroism come within the reach of us all. We\\nshould live day by day in such sublime confidence in\\nGod, realizing that the only true safety lies in so do-\\ning our duty that the heroic act will seem natural to\\nus.\\nTHE BLESSINGS OF SORROW.\\nPeter Morrison sings a very striking song entitled\\nThe Afterward of Sorrow. The poem was in-\\nspired by the following text Therefore, behold, I\\nwill bring her into the wilderness, and speak\\ncomfortably unto her. And I will give her her vine-\\nyards from thence, and the valley of Achor for a door\\nof hope (Hosea ii. 14, 15)\\nI.\\nMy world, Lord, is a wilderness\\nSo wailed my weary heart\\nA barren land of blazing sand,\\nOh, speak the word, Depart\\nWhy linger I\\nBeneath the sky\\nTo Water cry\\nIn vain\\nn.\\nMy life, Lord, is one long despair\\nSo sobbed my sin-stained heart\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nThis cairn of shame has killed my name,\\nOh, speak the word, Depart\\nSince Hope is fled,\\nBetter be dead\\nThan Effort wed\\nIn vain", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0276.jp2"}, "277": {"fulltext": "THE BEST LOVING-CUP.\\n267\\nin.\\nI ceased, and thou didst answer make\\nTo my complaining fear\\nThe vine that yields the richest wine\\nGrows in thy desert drear\\nThou canst not see\\nThe joy to be\\nDistilled for thee\\nFrom pain.\\nIV.\\nDespair not of thyself, O man,\\nTill I despair of thee\\nAnd in Achor an open door\\nOf Hope thou yet shalt see.\\nThis sinful heap\\nThat makes thee weep\\nThy soul shall keep\\nFrom death\\nV.\\nThe years have come, the years have gone\\nAnd glad experience cries\\nMy strengths of life were born of strife,\\nMy joys of weeping eyes.\\nLord, pardon me,\\nFor now I see\\nThy word to be\\nIn truth.\\nTHE BEST LOVING-CUP.\\nThe gold loving-cup presented by New York City\\nto Admiral Dewey is Roman in form, and made en-\\ntirely of eighteen- carat gold. The three handles are\\nthree dolphins, beautifully wrought in green gold.\\nAround the neck of the cup, as in the firmament,", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0277.jp2"}, "278": {"fulltext": "268\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\ncluster forty-five stars the sisterhood of States ex-\\ntending a greeting to its greatest hero. A finely-\\nwrought relief portrait of Admiral Dewey, sur-\\nrounded by a wreath of oak leaves and green gold,\\nthe whole resting upon an eagle with outstretched\\nwings, adorns the front panel. The cup will stand\\nabout thirteen inches high and will rank as the rich-\\nest gold loving-cup ever made in this country. That\\nis certainly a very rare and beautiful cup, and no\\ndoubt Admiral Dewey will highly regard it, and his\\nfriends will esteem it a great honor if permitted to\\ndrink from it. But there is a better loving-cup than\\nthat. It is the one spoken of by our Lord at the\\nLast Supper, when he assured his disciples that the\\ntime should come when they should eat and drink at\\nhis table in his kingdom. What a loving-cup that\\nwill be from which the ransomed and redeemed hosts\\nshall drink in fellowship with Christ in heaven\\nTHE OPENED HEAVENS.\\nTennyson pictures the opening of the heavens to\\nStephen in his hour of martyrdom, and how God s\\nglory smote him on the face. His song gives us\\ncourage to believe that a like revelation may come to\\nevery brave soul that trusts God and is loyal to duty\\nI can not hide that some have striven,\\nAchieving calm, to whom was given\\nThe joy that mixes man with Heaven\\nWho, rowing hard against the stream,\\nSaw distant gates of Eden gleam,\\nAnd did not dream it was a dream", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0278.jp2"}, "279": {"fulltext": "AN ELEMENT OF TRUE GREATNESS. 269\\nBut heard, by secret transport led,\\nEv n in the charnels of the dead,\\nThe murmur of the fountain-head\\nWhich did accomplish their desire,\\nBore and forbore, and did not tire,\\nLike Stephen, an unquenche d fire.\\nHe heeded not reviling tones,\\nNor sold his heart to idle moans,\\nTho cursed and scorned, and bruised with stones\\nBut looking upward, full of grace,\\nHe prayed, and from a happy place\\nGod s glory smote him on the face.\\nACKNOWLEDGING MISTAKES AN ELEMENT OF\\nTRUE GREATNESS.\\nAn editorial writer in a leading daily newspaper,\\ncommenting on Gov. Theodore Roosevelt s conduct\\nin promptly acknowledging a mistake he had made\\nthrough ignorance, says: The frank admission of\\nthe error, the confession that it was due to want of\\ninformation, not merely disarms criticism, it gives\\nthe governor a new hold on the respect and on the\\naffections of his fellow citizens. To make a mistake\\nis easy enough for most of us; to stick to it is\\nthe temptation of too many; candidly to admit it\\nand undo it is the fruit of a manly virtue which\\nis not too common. One of the distinctions be-\\ntween the great man and the little man is that the\\ntruly great man is simple-minded and honest, and\\nknows that there is a vast difference between stub-\\nbornness and right. The man who goes ahead in a", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0279.jp2"}, "280": {"fulltext": "270\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nwrong course after he has found out his error is of\\nthe sort described by the wise man of Scripture in the\\noft-quoted words, Seest thou a man wise in his own\\nconceit? There is more hope of a fool than of him.\\nTHE GLORY OF COMMON THINGS.\\nSome unknown poet brings out strongly that it is\\nthe common things, within the reach of all, on which\\nafter all we must rely for the true beauty and glory\\nof living\\nGive me, dear Lord, thy magic common things,\\nWhich all can see, which all may share,\\nSunlight and dewdrops, grass and stars and sea,\\nNothing unique or new, and nothing rare.\\nJust daisies, knapweed, wind among the thorns\\nSome clouds to cross the blue old sky above\\nRain, winter fires, a useful hand, a heart,\\nThe common glory of a woman s love.\\nThen, when my feet no longer tread old paths\\n(Keep them from fouling sweet things anywhere),\\nWrite one old epitaph in grace-lit words\\nSuch things look fairer that he sojourned here.\\nSIN S DEATH-GULCH.\\nIn the northeast corner of the Yellowstone National\\nPark there is a gloomy ravine which has won the ugly\\nname of the Death-Gulch. There oozes out from the\\nbase of the mountain-slopes water which is colored\\nby a creamy white deposit of sulphate of alumina,\\nwhich is death to animal life. A recent visitor pass-\\ning through this weird and dismal place found a large", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0280.jp2"}, "281": {"fulltext": "EVERY MAN IN HIS PLACE.\\n271\\nnumber of recumbent bears which, had met their death\\nby drinking this water. How many there are among\\nmen and women who find their untimely end in the\\ndeath-gulch of sin. Its waters fascinate and please\\nthe taste at first, but poison and death are in them.\\nTHE DIFFERENCE.\\nIt is a far cry from the man who seeks to find the\\nbest in everything to that distant planet where lives\\nthe man who seeks to find the worst in everything\\nthat comes into the daily experience. E, C. Trench\\nsings about it some illuminating lines\\nSome murmur when their sky is clear\\nAnd wholly bright to view,\\nIf one small speck of dark appear\\nIn their great heaven of blue.\\nAnd some with thankful love are fhTd\\nIf but one streak of light,\\nOne ray of God s good mercy, gild\\nThe darkness of their night.\\nEVERY MAN IN HIS PLACE.\\nA famous archeologist went to his club recently,\\nhis countenance disfigured at several points with\\nsticking-plaster. There was a general inquiry among\\nhis friends as to what was the matter. Razor, said\\nthe professor briefly. Good gracious! Where\\nwere you shaved? asked one of the younger mem-\\nbers sympathetically. It s a strange thing, said\\nthe man of learning. I was shaved this morning\\nby a man who really is, I suppose, a little above the", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0281.jp2"}, "282": {"fulltext": "272\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nordinary barber, I know of my own knowledge that\\nhe took a Double First Class at Oxford, that he\\nstudied at Heidelberg afterward, and spent several\\nyears in other foreign educational centers. I know\\nalso of my own knowledge that he has contributed\\nscientific articles to our best magazines, and has num-\\nbered among his intimate friends men of the highest\\nsocial and scientific standing. And yet, said the\\nsavant, he can t shave a man decently. What\\nis he a barber for, exclaimed the younger man, with\\nall those accomplishments? Oh! he isn t a bar-\\nber said the bookworm, yawning. You see, I\\nshaved myself to-day. There are a great many men\\nwho get into the wrong pigeonhole. It is very im-\\nportant that a man s individuality should be studied\\nin the selection of a trade or a profession. A great\\ndeal of the world s sorrow would be prevented if that\\nwere done.\\nFOLLOWING CHRIST.\\nIn keeping close to Jesus we shall find everything\\nwe need. This is not often made more comfortingly\\nclear than in these beautiful verses by Whittier\\nDeep strike thy roots, O Heavenly Vine,\\nWithin our earthly sod\\nMost human and yet most Divine\\nThe flowe^ of man and God.\\nApart from thee all gain is loss,\\nAll labor vainly done\\nThe solemn shadow of thy cross\\nIs better than the sun.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0282.jp2"}, "283": {"fulltext": "VALUE OF A DEFINITE PURPOSE IN LIFE. 273\\nOur Friend, our Brother, and our Lord,\\nWhat may thy service be?\\nNor name, nor form, nor ritual word,\\nBut simply following thee.\\nTHE VALUE OF A DEFINITE PURPOSE IN LIFE*\\nA very wealthy and eccentric woman recently died\\nin a Western city. Her money was mostly in gov-\\nernment bonds, which were kept in a strong-box at\\nher banker s. Every week or so a clerk from the\\nbank would carry the box to her home, and she would\\nexamine her papers. The strangest of her eccentrici-\\nties was her fondness for buying things at bargain\\nsales. She was a close reader of the papers, and\\nwhen she saw a bargain sale advertised she always\\nordered her carriage and attended it. She bought\\nfreely of everything which happened to strike her\\nfancy, taking the parcels home in her carriage. Once\\nshe got into the house she lost interest in her purchases.\\nThey were piled in a vacant room, and were never\\neven opened. After her death this room was found\\nnearly filled with these purchases, wrapped and tied\\njust as they were when they left the bargain-counters.\\nNot one had been disturbed. There were hundreds\\nof bundles, and the examination showed that they had\\ncost many thousands of dollars There are some people\\nwho go through life like that. Their life is a hodge-\\npodge, made up of all sorts of things that attract them\\ntemporarily. Such a life is a pitiful failure. Life\\non earth is so short that if we are to make a real suc-\\ncess of it we must have some great and worthy pur-\\n18", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0283.jp2"}, "284": {"fulltext": "274\\nPOETRY AND MORALS,\\npose and turn all our energies that way. We can not\\nafford to fritter away our time or energy on insignifi-\\ncant matters.\\nTHE MOTHER S HOUR.\\nNo mother should ever give up to any one her sacred\\nprivilege of teaching holy lessons to her children as\\nthey lie down in the embrace of sleep at night.\\nSome of the most forceful men and women who have\\never lived have gratefully acknowledged their in-\\ndebtedness for all that was noblest in them to the im-\\npressions made on their youthful minds and hearts by\\na Christian mother in that twilight hour. Mrs. Sang-\\nster sings about it a sympathetic song. The picture\\ngoes deep into our hearts\\nLittle figures robed in white,\\nMellow glow of candle-light\\nLittle hands upraised in prayer,\\nRoses sweet and fair.\\nAll the work and play and fun\\nFor the happy day are done\\nAll the little faults confessed\\nAll the troubles set at rest.\\nChildhood, sweet as dawn of flowers.\\nDrifts through many changeful hours\\nBut one hour, the mother s own,\\nMust belong to her alone\\nWhen she sees each sunny head\\nSafe and cozy in its bed.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0284.jp2"}, "285": {"fulltext": "REAL WORTH.\\n275\\nWhen the world may do its worst,\\nGod and she have had them first,\\nAnd her bairns are folded fair\\nIn the tender Shepherd s care.\\nAngels bend above the room\\nWhere the dimpled darlings bloom\\nIn their lovely innocence,\\nWarding every evil hence\\nFrom the little ones who dwell\\nWhere the mother guards them well.\\nGod and she about them stand,\\nThey are safe on every hand.\\nKneeling for them at the throne\\nThey are hers and God s alone.\\nAnd each child, a tender flower,\\nBlossoms in the mother s hour.\\nREAL WORTH.\\nA farmer boy named Steve went away from home\\nto the city, and in the course of years became a very\\nsuccessful railroad man. One warm summer day he\\nfound himself at home on a little vacation. He was\\nseated under the old apple-tree, with the half of a\\nred-hearted watermelon in his lap. His father, busy\\nwith the other half, paused now and then to ask Steve\\nabout his new job, and what he paid for his fine\\nclothes. Presently he wanted to know what they\\ncalled his boy on the road conductor, brakeman, or\\nwhat? They call me the General Freight Agent,\\nfather, said Steve. That s a mighty big name,", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0285.jp2"}, "286": {"fulltext": "276\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nSteve. Yes, father; it s rather a big job too, for\\nme. But you don t do it all, Steve. You must\\nhave hands to help you load and unload? Oh!\\nyes, I have a lot of help. And the company pays\\nthem all? Yes. How much do they pay you,\\nSteve two dollars a day? Steve almost strangled\\non a piece of melon, and the old gentleman saw that he\\nhad guessed too low. Three dollars? he ven-\\ntured. More than that father. You don t mean\\nto say they pay you as much as five? Yes, father,\\nmore than twenty -five. The old man let his\\nwatermelon fall between his knees, stared at his boy,\\nand whistled. Then a serious look came in the old\\nman s face, and leaning forward, he asked earnestly,\\nSay, Steve, are you worth it? Every man ought\\nto ask himself the serious question concerning every\\nsuccess that comes to him in life, whether he is giv-\\ning value received to the world in service for the suc-\\ncess it confers upon him.\\nTHE CROWN OF THORNS.\\nGerald Massey sings a very helpful song for all\\nwho are in the midst of hard trials. We should not\\nthink it is because God has forgotten us, for even the\\nChrist was crowned with thorns\\nHo, ye who in a noble work\\nWin scorn, as flames draw air,\\nAnd in the way where lions lurk\\nGod s image bravely bear,\\nTho trouble-tried and torture-torn,\\nThe kingliest kings are crowned with thorn.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0286.jp2"}, "287": {"fulltext": "WASTE OF EMOTION.\\n277\\nLife s glory, like the bow in heaven,\\nStill springeth from the cloud\\nAnd soul ne er soared the starry Seven\\nBut Pain s fire-chariot rode.\\nThey ve battled best who ve boldliest borne\\nThe kingliest kings are crowned with thorn.\\nThe martyr s fire-crown on the brow\\nDoth into glory burn\\nAnd tears that from love s torn heart flow\\nTo pearls of spirit turn.\\nOur dearest hopes in pangs are born,\\nThe kingliest kings are crowned with thorn.\\nAs beauty in death s cerement shrouds,\\nAnd stars bejewel night,\\nGod-splendors live in dim heart-clouds,\\nAnd suffering worketh might.\\nThe murkiest hour is mother o morn,\\nThe kingliest kings are crowned with thorn.\\nWASTE OF EMOTION.\\nIn California, where so much of the land requires\\nirrigation, there is a serious effort being made to de-\\nvise some scheme by which the water that goes to\\nwaste in times of flood can be stored up and used in\\ntimes of drought. It has long been known that\\nenough flood-water flows back to the sea in the rainy\\nseason to more than multiply the State s resources\\nfor irrigation. Therefore it is felt that if some sys-\\ntem is workable whereby flood-waters can be im-\\npounded and saved from waste, hundreds of thou-\\nsands of acres of now useless lands may be made\\nfruitful. What a wonderful thing it would be if\\nsome such scheme could be devised in the higher", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0287.jp2"}, "288": {"fulltext": "278\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nrealm of human emotion There is enough real heart\\nbenevolence stirred up to fill the land with kindness,\\nand bring about human brotherhood everywhere.\\nBut it often goes to waste without producing any-\\npractical result. Many people are moved to tears by\\na novel or the story of some suffering fellow being,\\nand for a time there is a flood of charitable feeling\\nthat surges through the soul but it runs to waste,\\nand when opportunity for real helpfulness comes the\\nemotion has passed away.\\nCHRIST LOVES YOU.\\nThe apostle declares that we love Christ because he\\nfirst loved us. Mrs. Farningham brings out very\\nclearly that personal love of God for each one of us\\nOne loves you. He has loved you long.\\nHis love and its sweet prayer and praise\\nWere in your mother s cradle song,\\nAnd made the music of your days\\nWhen flowers were fair, and skies were blue\\nFor love of you.\\nHe told the secret of his love\\nWhen merry laughter answered him,\\nBy dancing seas, in leafy grove,\\nBefore your childhood s eyes were dim,\\nWhen life lay like a sunny view\\nFor love of you.\\nNow, has the shadow touched your face?\\nAre the days dark? the prospects gray?\\nOh heart, he brave The time of grace\\nCan never pass from you away.\\nYour Friend is tender, wise, and true\\nFor love of you.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0288.jp2"}, "289": {"fulltext": "THE EMPTY CRADLE.\\n279\\nHe walked for you earth s changeful ways,\\nHe bore for you the lonely hour,\\nHe lived for you through toilsome days,\\nHe met for you the tempter s power,\\nAnd joy through sorrow this Friend knew\\nFor love of you.\\nOh, child of love, be not still sad,\\nBut change the sigh to happy song,\\nFor you can make the Savior glad\\nBy loving him who loved you long.\\nSo fill with praise the heavens above,\\nFor God is love.\\nTHE ALERT EYE.\\nBroom-corn first grew in India. From there it was\\ncarried to Europe. Dr. Benjamin Franklin was once\\nexamining a whisk-broom that had been brought over\\nfrom England in the days before we had any broom-\\ncorn of our own. He found a single seed on the\\nbroom, picked it off, planted it, and raised a stock of\\ncom from which is descended all the broom-corn of\\nthe United States. Franklin was one of the men\\nwhose eyes were always alert for possible opportuni-\\nties to enrich his time and the world. The people of\\nthe observing eye and the alert mind and heart are\\nthose to whom opportunities do not come in vain.\\nTHE EMPTY CRADLE.\\nAlmost every mother knows the full meaning of\\nthese three sad little words, the empty cradle,\\nfrom which God has taken the gift he seems to have", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0289.jp2"}, "290": {"fulltext": "280\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nlent only long enough to take away with it a mother s\\nheart. Some poet sings\\nHe sleeps. Who sleeps?\\nYou do not know?\\nAnd I must tell you, soft and low,\\nMy little baby sleepeth so.\\nHe sleeps so late, My baby sleeps,\\nNor smiles nor weeps.\\nThe noon upon the morn doth wait,\\nThe sun shines full upon the gate\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nThe bees and birds are in full tune,\\nAnd summer life is at its noon.\\nMy heart doth break.\\nMy baby never will awake\\nHe sleeps.\\nThe tender eve draws near,\\nThe lights of home are shining clear,\\nBut in the churchyard dark and drear\\nMy little baby sleeps.\\nKINDNESS OF THE LIVING.\\nNot long since, on the top of the beautiful Appe-\\nnines, near Florence, in that Italian Switzerland\\nwhich is called the Abertone because of the great\\nnumber of fir-trees, a marble tablet was unveiled in\\nmemory of Count Telfener. His career is worthy of\\nnote. He was born in Italy, but when very young\\nwent to Texas, where, by building railways, he made\\na rapid and colossal fortune. He returned home with\\nhis head full of projects for the benefit of his country.\\nAs soon as he arrived in Eome he built himself a mag-\\nnificent villa, and intended to spend his vast wealth", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0290.jp2"}, "291": {"fulltext": "FAILURE AND SUCCESS. 281\\nfor the good of Eome. But the people misunderstood\\nhis eccentricities, and treated him coldly. One could\\nnot bear him because his mother s diamonds- were too\\nbig; one objected to the way he wore his hair, an-\\nother to the cut of his coat, and the general dislike\\nculminated in the annuling of his election to Parlia-\\nment without a shadow of a reason. He disappeared\\nfrom Eome, and the next heard from him was that\\nhe had built the railway which revealed the beauties\\nof the Appenines to travelers, conferring untold riches\\nand benefit on the whole district. Now that he is dead\\ncabinet ministers, senators, and princes gather to un-\\nveil this tablet rendering him honors one fifth of which\\nwould have made his misunderstood life radiantly\\nhappy. Alas There are too many who wait until\\nafter people are dead before they speak the kind and\\nappreciative word. It is better to speak it while\\npeople live, and thus not only give them happiness,\\nbut stimulate them to still nobler deeds.\\nFAILURE AND SUCCESS*\\nEichard Watson Gilder strikes a true note in his\\nlittle poem entitled Failure and Success. The\\nman who stands faithfully to the right and does his\\nduty must in the long run win success, tho all the\\nearth in his day count him a failure\\nHe fails who climbs to power and place\\nUp the pathway of disgrace.\\nHe fails not who makes truth his cause,\\nNor bends to win the crowd s applause.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0291.jp2"}, "292": {"fulltext": "282\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nHe fails not he who stakes his all\\nUpon the right and dares to fall.\\nWhat tho the living bless or blame,\\nFor him the long success of fame.\\nTHE WASTAGE OF LIFE.\\nIn connection with Cecil Rhodes s colossal wealth,\\nthere is a story told by an old miner, himself lately\\na colonial minister of finance, which illustrates at\\nleast one trait in the character of the great South\\nAfrican financier and politician. During the early\\ndays of the Kimberley diggings it was the custom\\nwhen a miner found a particularly fine gem to invite\\nthose about him to the ceremony of wetting the\\nstone. This meant to drink champagne at the find-\\ners expense, with the idea that it would bring good\\nluck in the discovery of another treasure. In the ad-\\njoining claim to that first taken up by Mr. Rhodes, in\\nthe very center of the crater holding the precious blue\\ndirt, this invitation had upon a certain occasion gone\\nforth, and the men were going their way up to the\\nhotel, when it was noticed that Rhodes stood aloof.\\nHallo come on Rhodes shouted the lucky\\nfinder of the gem. Aren t you coming up to 1 wet\\nthe stone for good luck? To which, however,\\nCecil Rhodes only shook his head. I say, come on\\nthere s a good fellow, persisted his neighbor.\\nWhat are you going to do? asked Rhodes, looking\\nup, Wet the stone with champagne, of course.\\nWell, replied the future magnate decisively, I\\ndid not come out here to drink champagne, but to", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0292.jp2"}, "293": {"fulltext": "MAN S INJUSTICE.\\n283\\nmake money, and then went on with his work.\\nThat Mr. Rhodes has succeeded in that purpose,\\nprobably beyond all flights of his imagination, is now\\na matter of history, and depended very largely, no\\ndoubt, on the fact that he kept his great brain clear\\nof strong drink. We would stand back affrighted if\\nwe could see the magnificent personalities which are\\nthrown every year on the waste-heap of human life\\nthrough drunkenness,\\nMAN S INJUSTICE.\\nWordsworth voices with brilliant note the fact that\\nin God s world everything is beautiful until man s\\ninhumanity to his brother throws a pall of sorrow and\\ngloom over it. He says\\nI heard a thousand blended notes,\\nWhile in a grove I sat reclined,\\nIn that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts\\nBring sad thoughts to the mind.\\nTo her fair works did Nature link\\nThe human soul that through me ran\\nAnd much it grieved my heart to think\\nWhat man has made of man.\\nThrough primrose tufts in that green bower\\nThe periwinkle trail d its wreaths\\nAnd tis my faith that every flower\\nEnjoys the air it breathes.\\nThe birds around me hopp d and play dj\\nTheir thoughts I can not measure\\nBut the least motion which they made,\\nIt seem d a thrill of pleasure.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0293.jp2"}, "294": {"fulltext": "284\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nThe budding twigs spread out their fans\\nTo catch the breezy air\\nAnd I must think, do all I can.\\nThat there was pleasure there.\\nIf this belief from Heaven be sent,\\nIf such be Nature s holy plan,\\nHave I not reason to lament\\nWhat man has made of man?\\nTHE IMPORTANCE OF THE ATMOSPHERE OF\\nLIFE.\\nOne of the leading weather-bureau officers recently-\\nsaid that at no distant day the daily weather predic-\\ntion will possess much greater significance than at\\npresent. We shall then scan the bulletin not only\\nto find out whether to postpone a picnic or to carry\\nan umbrella, but also to gain a clue to the probable\\nconduct of our fellow beings, whose behavior, accord-\\ning to modern theory, varies with variations in tem-\\nperature, humidity, and the velocity of the wind. To\\nthe physician certain weather indications will prove a\\nwarning of danger to patients hovering between life\\nand death to the teacher that her pupils will be un-\\nruly or stupid to the chief of police they will indi-\\ncate a day of assaults, murders, and suicides to the\\nkeeper of a penitentiary or insane asylum, a time of\\nextra watchfulness over his wards to avert fractious\\noutbreaks to the banker a change in the weather may\\nbring anxiety lest serious errors creep into his accounts\\nor affect financial calculations. That climate and\\nweather influence feeling and conduct is universally\\nadmitted. There is a soul-climate as well as a body-", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0294.jp2"}, "295": {"fulltext": "THE LESSER MINISTRIES.\\n285\\nclimate. Christianity produces a moral atmosphere\\nin which the spiritual graces blossom and put forth\\ntheir growth with springtime energy. Many a man\\nwhen called to be a Christian does not take into ac-\\ncount the divine influence of this religious climate\\ninto which the Christian life would bring him.\\nTHE LESSER MINISTRIES.\\nJames Buckham brings out in a very clear light\\nthe exceedingly comfortable truth that the lesser min-\\nistries of love lie within the reach of the humblest, and\\nmay be as certain evidence of love as the greater gift\\nof the strong and rich\\nA flower upon my threshold laid,\\nA little kindness wrought unseen\\nI know not who love s tribute paid,\\nI only know that it has made\\nLife s pathway smooth, life s borders green.\\nGod bless the gracious hands that e er\\nSuch tender ministries essay\\nDear hands that helped the pilgrim bear\\nHis load of weariness and care\\nMore bravely up the toilsome way.\\nOh, what a little thing can turn\\nA heavy heart from sighs to song\\nA smile can make the world less stern\\nA word can cause the soul to burn\\nWith glow of heaven all night long\\nIt needs not that love s gift be great\\nSome splendid jewel of the soul\\nFor which a king might supplicate.\\nNay true love s least, at love s true rate,\\nIs tithe most royal of the whole.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0295.jp2"}, "296": {"fulltext": "286\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nCLEANSING POWER.\\nLake Titicaca in South America has the peculiar\\nquality that prevents metal from rusting in its waters.\\nA chain or an anchor or any article of ordinary iron\\ncan be thrown into it and remain for weeks, and when\\nit is hauled up it will be as clean and bright as when\\nit came from the foundry. And, what is stranger\\nstill, rust that has been formed upon metallic objects\\nelsewhere will peel off when immersed in its waters.\\nThis is frequently noticed by railway and steamship\\nmen. Eusty car-wheels and rails, and even machin-\\nery, can be brightened by soaking them in the waters\\nof this lake. There is a fountain that has the power\\nto cleanse the stains of sin and guilt from the human\\nheart. Cowper sings about it in his famous hymn\\nThere is a fountain filled with blood\\nDrawn from Immanuel s veins\\nAnd sinners, plunged beneath that flood,\\nLose all their guilty stains.\\nFAITH IN GOD,\\nWhen Dr. W. S. McKenzie lay ill in the hospital\\nin Boston, not expecting to live, he said to a friend\\nThose verses I wrote on Faith in God exactly ex-\\npress my state of mind. 7 The poem which thus ex-\\npressed his faith in the presence of death is as fol-\\nlows:\\nThy will, O God, my lot ordains,\\nWhate er my lot in life may be\\nMy faith in thee its grasp retains,\\nHowever harsh seems thy decree.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0296.jp2"}, "297": {"fulltext": "A POSITIVE RELIGIOUS LIFE. 287\\nI know not what thy ways portend,\\nBut this I know, thou art my Friend,\\nAnd in my need thy help is near\\nI know that thou canst ne er deceive\\nThe soul that will in thee believe\\nThen what have I from thee to fear?\\nMy faith, God, in thee is stayed,\\nTho darkness veils thee from my sight\\nNo threatening ills make me afraid,\\nFor faith finds shelter in thy might.\\nIn deepest gloom, when most forlorn,\\nI glimpse the reddening flush of morn,\\nWhen lowering night shall flee away.\\nMy faith for me a victory wins,\\nOn earth my heavenly bliss begins\\nA foregleam of eternal day.\\nIn strife sometimes my courage fails,\\nBut faith makes weakened valor strong\\nWhen hell-born doubt my mind assails,\\nThen chants my faith the victor s song.\\nMore faith in God, more faith, I crave,\\nTo vanquish fear, to make me brave,\\nWhen raging tempests round me roar\\nMore faith, to wing my faltering feet,\\nTo make my heavenward steps more fleet,\\nUntil I tread the shining shore.\\nA POSITIVE RELIGIOUS LIFE.\\nIt seems certain that the Great Salt Lake is slowly\\ndrying np. The reason is that the rivers which fur-\\nnish it its waters are being used to irrigate arid land\\nand bring it into cultivation. All the water for the\\nirrigation of the Jordan valley comes from the rivers\\nwhich feed the lake. These streams utilized for ir-\\nrigation are making of a desert some of the most", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0297.jp2"}, "298": {"fulltext": "288\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nfertile farming settlements in the world. When the\\nGreat Salt Lake is gone it will be missed as a wonder\\nand as a salt-factory, but for little else. Its waters\\ndestroy vegetation instead of nourishing it. So it\\nwill be a good exchange to trade the old Salt Lake\\nfor new and living lands of green farms along the\\nstreams which once fed it. The best way to kill off\\nevil deposits in human society is to turn the energies\\nof the people into ways of righteousness. Paul had\\nsomething of this in his mind when he said to the\\nGalatians Walk in the Spirit, and ye shall not ful-\\nfil the lust of the flesh.\\nTHE THANKSGIVING COLUMN.\\nFew Christians have any idea how great is the mul-\\ntitude of God s mercies until something arouses them\\nto add up their causes for thanksgiving. It always\\ndoes us good to add up the thanksgiving column, and\\nMrs. Farningham has written a poem which will help\\nus by putting us in remembrance of many things we\\nare likely to forget\\nFor the discipline of sorrow,\\nFor the angel of distress,\\nFor the unseen hands that draw us\\nInto greater blessedness\\nFor the lips that close in silence,\\nFor the strong hands clasped in prayer,\\nFor the strength of heart that suffers\\nBut sinks not in despair\\nFor the penitence and patience\\nThat are meek beneath the rod,\\nAnd for hope s glad resurrection,\\nWe give thee thanks, O God.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0298.jp2"}, "299": {"fulltext": "THE THANKSGIVING COLUMN.\\nFor the courage and endurance\\nThat can bear a fearful strain,\\nFor the self-restraint and fortitude\\nThat will not yield to pain\\nFor the good, brave-hearted mothers,\\nFor the loyalty of wives,\\nFor the men who at their country s call\\nHave offered up their lives\\nFor the love that loves for trouble s sake\\nIn all our lands and ranks,\\nAnd the generous help of far-off kin,\\nO God, we give thee thanks.\\nFor the many men and women\\nWho have no heart for song,\\nWho mourn and weep in silence\\nBecause of war and wrong\\nWho can hate none for whom Christ died,\\nWhichever name they bear,\\nBut must for foes as well as friends\\nFill the sad days with prayer\\nFor the hearts to peace surrendered,\\nAnd full of love s accord,\\nTho the fight be fiercely raging,\\nWe give thee thanks, O Lord\\nFor the hope that right shall triumph,\\nFor the lifting of the race,\\nFor the victories of justice,\\nFor a coming day of grace,\\nFor the lessons taught by failure\\nLearned in humbleness and pain,\\nFor the call to lofty duties\\nThat will come to us again,\\nFor the hope that those who trust in God\\nShall not be put to shame\\nFor the faith that lives in England,\\nGod, we praise thy name.\\n19", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0299.jp2"}, "300": {"fulltext": "290\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nRICH, BUT A BEGGAR.\\nAn old Italian beggar was arrested and brought be-\\nfore the police court in New York City recently as a\\nvagrant. On searching him the police were surprised\\nto find in the lining of his hat several dollars in pen-\\nnies and nickels. Searching further they found ten-\\ndollar gold-pieces, and a large roll of bills amounting\\nto one hundred and eighty-seven dollars met their\\ngaze. Many people who do not stand at the street\\ncorner to beg nevertheless live in the beggar s spirit.\\nThey take all that God gives -to them, but live with-\\nout thanksgiving or appreciation of his rich mercies.\\nTHE RISEN CHRIST.\\nEichard Watson Gilder brings out in clear relief the\\nfact that Christ s presence in our heart proves his res-\\nurrection to be a certainty\\nThe Lord is risen indeed,\\nHe is here for your love, for your need\\nNot in the grave nor the sky,\\nBut here, where men live and die\\nAnd true the word that was said,\\nWhy seek ye the living among the dead?\\nLOST GOLD.\\nUntold millions of dollars worth of gold are sup-\\nposed to have been lost in India. The gold is hidden\\nin the earth by the people and finally lost. In an-\\ncient times and up to the period of the conquest and\\noccupation by the English, individual property was", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0300.jp2"}, "301": {"fulltext": "HEAVEN DRAWING NEARER. 291\\nnot protected. The country from one end to the\\nother was the prey of rival factions who ravaged it\\nceaselessly and without mercy. To escape from the\\ngeneral robbery the natives, great and small, carefully\\nconcealed their money and other valuables under-\\nground. This inveterate habit became hereditary\\namong them, so that to-day the natives do just what\\ntheir ancestors did in past ages. It is estimated that\\nnot only millions but billions of gold coins thus lie\\nidle in the hiding-places of India. This Indian land,\\nthe soil of which absorbs the floods of gold just as the\\nsands of the deserts swallow the overflow of great\\nrivers, is like some people who are forever receiving\\nthe good gifts of God, and instead of using them\\nreverently and lovingly to bless themselves and the\\nworld, seek simply to hoard them up. God s gifts\\nare all for service they are to be passed on to others,\\nto be kept in circulation.\\nHEAVEN DRAWING NEARER.\\nElla Wheeler Wilcox has a helpful little poem\\nwhich illustrates how the growing number of our\\nfriends in heaven brings the other world closer and\\nmore familiar to us with every passing year\\nIt seemeth such a little way to me\\nAcross to that strange country, the Beyond\\nAnd yet not strange, for it has grown to be\\nThe home of those of whom I am so fond.\\nThey make it seem familiar and most dear,\\nAs journeying friends bring distant countries near.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0301.jp2"}, "302": {"fulltext": "292\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nAnd so for me there is no sting to death,\\nAnd so the grave has lost its victory\\nIt is hut crossing with deep-hated breath\\nAnd white, set face a little strip of sea,\\nTo find the loved ones waiting on the shore,\\nMore beautiful, more precious, than before.\\nA SURE ANCHOR.\\nAbout New York harbor there are wrecking-steam-\\ners which spend all their time fishing for anchors.\\nThe last notable success in anchor-fishing was the\\nrecovery of the six-ton anchor attached to the United\\nStates cruiser Brooklyn. The loss was caused by a\\nflaw in one of the links of the cable, and occurred at\\nthe government anchorage off Staten Island while the\\ncruiser was getting under way. Great uncertainty\\nprevailed as to the probable location of the anchor,\\nand the wrecking- steamer spent several days dredg-\\ning before it was found. The best anchor in the\\nworld is the anchor that Paul tells about in his let-\\nter to the Hebrews, where he says that God has con-\\nfirmed his promise to us by an oath, that we might\\nhave a strong consolation, who have fled for refuge\\nto lay hold upon the hope set before us which hope\\nwe have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and\\nsteadfast, and which entereth into that within the\\nveil.\\nGETTING THE MOST OUT OF LIFE,\\nThe selfish man who is always looking out for\\nnumber one is grievously mistaken when he thinks\\nhe is in that way getting the best out of life. It is", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0302.jp2"}, "303": {"fulltext": "LOST GEMS.\\n293\\nnot what we gather but what we distribute that gives\\nus the life abundant. EL W. Howard gives our mes-\\nsage in a little poem\\nHe lives the most whose eyes perceive\\nThe beauty hid in every zone,\\nWhose faith can pierce all distances,\\nAnd make the things unseen his own.\\nHe lives the most whose senses keen\\nHave felt the pang of every wo,\\nWho knows by sad experiences\\nThe tests which mortals undergo.\\nHe lives the most whose soul responds\\nTo all that s good, to every need,\\nWhose willing hands and tireless feet\\nAre swift to do each Christlike deed.\\nHe lives the most whose heart of love\\nO erflows its banks on every side,\\nWho, like his Master, gives himself,\\nAnd casts his bread upon the tide.\\nLOST GEMS.\\nThe Manufacturing Jeweler, a magazine devoted to\\njewelry, declares that more than two million dollars\\nworth of jewels are lost every season at American\\nsummer resorts. That so much more jewelry is lost\\nin the summer than during the winter is due to the\\nfoolish display which is made of such valuables on\\nhotel piazzas, the sands, and even in the ocean it-\\nself. The bathers at the fashionable resorts often\\nindulge in a caprice of appearing in the water wearing\\nseveral thousand dollars worth of diamonds. The\\nchances of losing these trinkets while exercising, or", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0303.jp2"}, "304": {"fulltext": "294\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nwhile lying about on the beach, are, of course, very-\\ngreat. It is a notable fact that more people lose the\\npriceless jewels of character in their hours of amuse-\\nment and recreation than while engaged in the serious\\nwork of life. There is no time when a man or a\\nwoman should be so careful of the consistency of con-\\nduct as in hours of relaxation.\\nTHE BLESSING OF FRIENDS.\\nChrist said a sweet thing to his disciples when he\\ncomforted them with the words, Ye are my friends.\\nSome poet sings about friends\\nEvery soul that touches ours\\nBe it the slightest contact\\nGets therefrom some good,\\nSome little grace, one kindly thought,\\nOne inspiration yet unfelt,\\nFor the darkening sky, one gleam of faith,\\nTo brave the thickening ills of life,\\nOne glimpse of brighter skies, beyond the gathering mists,\\nTo make this life worth while\\nAnd heaven a surer heritage.\\nTHE COURAGEOUS SOUL.\\nA grim relic has just been added to the collection\\nin Paris known as the Musee de l Armee, which was\\nrecently installed in the Hotel des Invalides. It is\\nthe wooden leg worn by General Daumesnil. Daumes-\\nnil, a Napoleonic veteran who had left one of his\\nlower extremities on the battlefield of Wagram, hap-\\npened to be in command at Yincennes when the allies", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0304.jp2"}, "305": {"fulltext": "FRESH IMPULSE.\\n295\\nentered Paris. He refused to surrender, crying from\\nthe battlements: I won t give up the place till you\\ngive me back my leg Men who carry that spirit\\ninto the ordinary affairs of daily life compel hard for-\\ntune to do them justice and are rarely compelled to\\nsurrender.\\nFRESH IMPULSE.\\nMen keep young and keep their lives fresh and\\ncourageous by ever and anon receiving fresh impulse.\\nHelen Hunt Jackson sings a very suggestive song\\nconcerning the fresh impulse that comes with the en-\\ntering upon a new year. Many of us have felt this\\nwithout having the power to express it so well\\nOnly a night from old to Dew\\nOnly a night, and so much wrought\\nThe Old Tear s heart all weary grew\\nBut said, The New Year rest has brought. n\\nThe Old Year s heart its hopes laid down\\nAs in a grave, but trusting said,\\nThe blossoms of the New Year s crown\\nBloom from the ashes of the dead.\\nThe Old Year s heart was full of greed\\nWith selfishness it longed and ached,\\nAnd cried I have not half I need,\\nMy thirst is bitter and unslaked.\\nBut to the New Year s generous hand\\nAll gifts in plenty shall return\\nTrue loving it shall understand\\nBy all my failures it shall learn.\\nI have been reckless it shall be\\nQuiet and calm and pure of life.\\nI was a slave it shall go free,\\nAnd find sweet peace where I leave strife.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0305.jp2"}, "306": {"fulltext": "296\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nOnly a night from old to new\\nNever a night such changes brought.\\nThe Old Year had its work to do\\nNo New Year miracles are wrought.\\nAlways a night from old to new\\nNight and the healing balm of sleep\\nEach morn is New Year s morn come true,\\nMorn of a festival to keep.\\nAll nights are sacred nights to make\\nConfession and resolve and prayer\\nAll days are sacred days to wake\\nNew gladness in the sunny air.\\nOnly a night from old to new\\nOnly a sleep from night to morn.\\nThe new is but the old come true\\nEach sunrise sees a new year born.\\nTHE MUSIC OF LABOR,\\nNumerous trades-unions throughout the East whose\\nmembers are musically inclined have arranged to hold\\na great musical festival in New York City. Sixty-\\nthree singing societies, belonging to trades-unions in\\ndifferent cities and towns, are to take part in it.\\nThe singing-club from one town is made up of weav-\\ners, another of miners, another of cabinet-makers,\\nand so on. The festival will be a sort of labor\\ncelebration, and the songs sung will illustrate the\\nhopes, aspirations, joys, and sufferings of the nation s\\ntoilers as represented in trades-unions. The singing\\nsocieties from a mining district will sing The Min-\\ners Lot, while the weavers will sing The Weav-\\ners by Heinrich Heine. How happy it would be for\\nthe whole world of mankind if such justice and kind-", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0306.jp2"}, "307": {"fulltext": "GOD OUR FATHER.\\n297\\nliness ruled everywhere in the labor world that men\\nand women would burst forth into songs as they went\\nabout their toil, voicing the gladness and thanksgiv-\\ning of their hearts No man can do his best work in\\nthis world until he can go about it in the singing\\nspirit. Lowell wrote with true poetic insight when\\nhe gave as a part of the inheritance most to be grate-\\nful for in the lot of a poor man s son that he has a\\nheart that in his labor sings.\\nGOD OUR FATHER,\\nNo poet can creep farther into the heart through\\nhis sympathetic appreciation of childhood s appeal\\nthan Eugene Field. How tender is the pathos of this\\nlittle poem, At the Door\\nI thought myself indeed secure,\\nSo fast the door, so firm the lock\\nBut, lo he toddling comes to lure\\nMy parent ear with timorous knock.\\nMy heart were stone could it withstand\\nThe sweetness of my baby s plea,\\nThat timorous, baby knocking, and\\nPlease let me in it s only me.\\nI threw aside the unfinished book,\\nRegardless of its tempting charms\\nAnd, opening wide the door, I took\\nMy laughing darling in my arms.\\nWho knows but in eternity\\nI, like a truant child, shall wait\\nThe glories of a life to be,\\nBeyond the heavenly Father s gate?", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0307.jp2"}, "308": {"fulltext": "298\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nAnd will that heavenly Father heed\\nThe truant s supplicating cry,\\nAs at the outer door I plead,\\nTisI, O Father! only I\\nTHE DAY OF RECOGNITION.\\nMrs. Julia Ward Howe received a deserved recogni-\\ntion at a recent Memorial-Day service in the city of\\nBoston. There was celebration in the Boston The-\\nater, where Mrs. Howe s immortal Battle-Hymn of\\nthe Bepublic was sung by Myron W. Whitney.\\nThere was a great audience, and when Mr. Whitney\\nrose to sing he bowed to a box where the white-haired\\npoet was sitting. The audience was wild in its en-\\nthusiasm. The climax was reached when the last\\nverse came, and they could see the splendid white\\nhead trembling as her aged voice joined in as Whit-\\nney sang, In the glory of the lilies Christ was born\\nacross the sea and by the time he had reached the\\nwords, As he died to make men holy, let us die to\\nmake men free, the whole vast audience was on its\\nfeet, sobbing and singing at the top of its thousands\\nof lungs. That was a great recognition, and must\\nhave warmed the heart of the sweet-spirited woman\\nwho wrote the splendid hymn. But there is coming\\na more glorious day of recognition than that, when an\\nassembled world shall be gathered together, and the\\nKing on the great white throne shall call forth some\\ntrue and noble man or woman who went a whole life-\\ntime doing faithful service, thinking himself or her-\\nself unnoticed and that the toil was unappreciated,", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0308.jp2"}, "309": {"fulltext": "THE IMPREGNABLE CHARACTER. 299\\nbut the King shall say, Here is one who was faithful\\nto me in yonder world of trial when my name was cast\\nout as evil. How such recognition will rejoice the\\nransomed spirit That such a day is coming we have\\nthe assurance in those significant words of Jesus:\\nWhosoever therefore shall confess me before men,\\nhim will I confess also before my Father which is in\\nheaven.\\nA USEFUL LIFE,\\nA noble prayer for usefulness is this little poem of\\nPhilip Phillips, Jr., entitled A Prayer\\nThy will to do, Thy work to make\\nMore forceful on this fallen earth,\\nThy love in some lone heart to leave,\\nThy word to give where spirits grieve,\\nTo teach a downcast soul its worth\\nInto some fettered life to take\\nThy freeing power for some one s sake\\nTo give of self as Thou didst give,\\nFor such a mission let me live\\nTHE IMPREGNABLE CHARACTER,\\nA band of Apache Indians once captured the army\\npaymaster s safe in the Western mountains. The safe\\ncontained about seven thousand dollars in greenbacks.\\nIt weighed four hundred pounds and worked with a\\ncombination. None of the Indians had ever exam-\\nined one at close quarters before, but they all knew\\nwhy it was hauled about from post to post, and were\\nvery anxious to get hold of the money. They first\\npounded off the knob with stones, thinking the door", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0309.jp2"}, "310": {"fulltext": "300\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\ncould then be pried open. It was a failure, of course,\\nand then they tried their tomahawks on the chilled\\nsteel, hoping to cut a hole in it. They had seen iron\\nsoftened by fire, and the third move was to give that\\nsafe a three-hours roasting but it proved to be fire-\\nproof. They threw big rocks upon it while it was\\nstill hot, and it was dented here and there, but they\\nwere as far from the money as ever. Then they\\ndragged it up the side of a mountain and tumbled it\\nover a precipice two hundred feet high. They ex-\\npected to see it burst open, but the only damage done\\nwas to break off one of the wheels. They left it\\nlying where it fell for a while, and then came back\\nand carried it to the river and let it soak for a whole\\nweek. It was thought that this would soften it up,\\nand great was their chagrin to find it as hard as ever.\\nThen they tried gunpowder, but knowing nothing of\\nblasting they brought about an explosion which badly\\nburned half a dozen Indians, but did no damage to\\nthe safe. The Indians worked for a month at that\\nsafe harder than they had ever worked at anything\\nelse in all their lives, but they failed to get inside of\\nit, and finally tumbled it into a deep ravine and left\\nit. Fourteen months later, after peace was made, the\\nGovernment got on the track of the safe, and an am-\\nbulance and a guard were sent for it. It was found\\nlying in the bed of a creek with a pile of driftwood\\naround it. It was a rusty, dented, lonesome-looking\\nold safe, but when it was brought into the fort and\\nthe door was opened it yielded up its contents with-\\nout the loss of a dollar. True character is like that.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0310.jp2"}, "311": {"fulltext": "WASTED NERVES.\\n301\\nYou may put if through, the fires of temptation, you\\nmay stone it as they did Stephen, but if it is real\\nChristian character it will keep its treasure secure\\nand bring it forth at last to be honored of God and\\nman.\\nPERFECT TRUST.\\nHow sweet is the experience of that perfect trust in\\nGod expressed in these lines by Whittier\\nSo sometimes comes to soul and sense\\nThe feeling which is evidence\\nThat very near about us lies\\nThe realm of spiritual mysteries\\nThe sphere of the supernal powers\\nImpinges on this world of ours.\\nThe low and dark horizon lifts\\nTo light the scenic terror shifts\\nThe breath of a diviner air\\nBlows down the answer to a prayer.\\nThat all our sorrow, pain, and doubt,\\nA great compassion clasps about\\nAnd law and goodness, love and force,\\nAre wedded fast, beyond divorce.\\nThen duty leaves to love its task,\\nThe beggar self forgets to ask\\nWith smile of trust and folded hands\\nThe passive soul in waiting stands,\\nTo feel, as flowers the sun and dew,\\nThe one True Life its own renew.\\nWASTED NERVES.\\nI take a drink when I feel like it, said a New\\nOrleans business man the other day, and can t see\\nthat it has ever done me any harm but I witnessed a\\nlittle episode this morning that has haunted me ever", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0311.jp2"}, "312": {"fulltext": "302\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nsince and has forced me to do a good deal of thinking.\\nI had stepped into a bar very early to get a cocktail,\\nand while it was being compounded a middle-aged\\ngentleman came in and asked one of the attendants\\nto pour him out a little plain whisky. He was care-\\nfully dressed, and had all the marks of refinement\\nand good breeding. The bartender placed half a\\nsmall glassful of whisky at his elbow, but the instant\\nhe stretched out his hand I saw that the man was on\\nthe verge of nervous collapse. He shook like an\\naspen, and when he finally managed to seize the\\ntumbler its contents flew in every direction. Let me\\nassist you, colonel/ said the bartender, quietly, and\\npouring out another drink he leaned over and held it\\nto his lips. The man said nothing, but gave him a\\nhaggard look that went to my heart like a knife. My\\nGod, what a look! Shame, humiliation, and abject\\nanimal terror. It started the sweat on me like water.\\nWell, he drank his whisky, stood still for a minute as\\nif gathering himself together, and sauntered out as\\ncool as ever. I asked the bartender if he had many\\nsuch customers, and he laughed. Lots of them/\\nhe said. There isn t a first-class bar in town/ he\\nwent on, that don t patch up a few old boys like\\nthat almost every morning. They are not drunkards,\\nbut they have been at it so many years that their\\nnerves are gone; and altho they don t know it, they\\nare working on absolutely nothing but whisky. As\\nsoon as they get a little fresh fuel in the morning\\nthey are all right; but they come in scared out of\\ntheir wits and thinking they are going to drop dead\\nS", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0312.jp2"}, "313": {"fulltext": "SWEETEST SONG ON EARTH IS MOTHER S. 303\\nevery minute. I walked out with this thought: If\\nyoung men would only reflect, who are just beginning\\nto play with the adder, they would die before they\\nwould go on until they are in its deadly power to\\nsuch an extent as that.\\nTHE SWEETEST SONG ON EARTH IS MOTHER S.\\nSweeter than bird or poet is the song of mother-\\nhood. Charles Emerson Cook beautifully expresses\\nit in a little poem entitled Melodies\\nA robin sang.\\nThe dull world wakened from its sleep,\\nCast off its robe of winter sadness\\nThe leaves from bondage gan to peep,\\nThe brooks o erflowed in jolly madness.\\nAll nature listened to the warning,\\nAnd laughed with glee in springtime s morning,\\nWhen robin sang.\\nA poet sang.\\nIt was a song that reached the heart\\nOf many a man, of every woman.\\nIt was the fruit of perfect art,\\nIt showed a power divinely human.\\nHis name was known to all and then\\nFame on her tablets wrote it, when\\nThe poet sang.\\nA mother sang.\\nTwo little eyelids blinked and drooped,\\nAnd bright curls nestled on her breast,\\nContentment s bounty richly trooped\\nSweet innocence found loving rest.\\nThe slumber fairies tiptoed near,\\nAnd all the angels stopped to hear\\nWhen mother sang.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0313.jp2"}, "314": {"fulltext": "304\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nSHOULDERS OF STEEL.\\nIn an interesting collection of warlike curiosities to\\nbe seen in Paris is a steel shoulder, the hero who once\\nwore it having long since laid down earth s burdens.\\nWhen Baron d Aboville was in the battle of Wagram\\na cannon-ball carried away the whole of his shoulder\\nto the collar-bone. Patch me up this, he re-\\nmarked to the surgeon when he reached the field-\\nhospital. The doctor considered the case hopeless,\\nbut bound the wound up as best he could. Some\\nyears later an officer came into this physician s con-\\nsulting-room in Paris one day, complaining that he\\ncould not get a coat to fit him. The doctor at once\\nrecognized his former patient, and made for him the\\nsteel shoulder, which the brave general wore for the\\nrest of his days. Who of us does not know of men\\nand women in humble life whose shoulders have been\\nfitted for the burden until they are stronger than steel\\nand far more reliable?\\nTHE SUNDAY OASIS.\\nWhat the Lord s day really held sacred means to\\nbusy, overworked, burden-bearing men and women\\nhas seldom if ever been better expressed than in a\\nlittle poem written by the late Gov. Frederick T.\\nGreenhalge, of Massachusetts\\nHow still and calm the day how still and calm\\nMy heart that lately throbbed with wrath and pain\\nThe week s wild tumult now is as a psalm\\nBorne faintly to us from some distant fane.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0314.jp2"}, "315": {"fulltext": "THE DIVINE ELECTROID. 305\\nAnd from the glory of this silent hour\\nConfusion flies, like Satan and the Night\\nStrong Truths stand forth, clothed with seraphic power,\\nWhile cowering Baseness seeks to shun the light.\\nSee noble Purpose, clouded until now,\\nShine with the flame of Bethlehem s great star;\\nAnd prophets, smiling, point us to the brow\\nWhose whiteness wreaths and glories can not mar.\\nFrom the still height of this serenest day,\\nI trace life s motions with a clearer eye\\nMen s deeds and lives are only God s highway,\\nWhich leads into his glory by and by.\\nTHE DIVINE ELECTROID.\\nFrancis Bychnowski, a mechanical engineer of Lem-\\nberg, Austria, has discovered a strange and very sub-\\ntile matter, which he has called electroid because\\nof a certain affinity with electricity. Electroid, pro-\\nduced by a special apparatus built by the inventor, is\\nobtained by the dissolution of certain matters under\\nthe influence of the electric current. It makes a\\nnoise, and at the same time a refreshing scent and a\\ncool breeze are experienced. This discovery induced\\nthe inventor to make a machine capable of refreshing\\nthe air to such a degree that those present during the\\nexperiment had the feeling that the window was open,\\naltho this was not the case. The commission ap-\\npointed by the Austrian Government to investigate\\nthis discovery reported that under the influence of\\nelectroid plants grow rapidly, and the buds of flowers\\nunclose while one is looking at them. Electroid an-\\nnihilates microbes and thus preserves health in or-\\n20", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0315.jp2"}, "316": {"fulltext": "306\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\ngaiiic matter. Hope is a sort of divine electroid.\\nHearts are inspired by it, and grow and unfold in\\nbeauty under its influence. It takes away the spiri-\\ntual microbes of doubt and fear, and preserves the\\nhealth of the soul.\\nCONSCIOUS IMMORTALITY,\\nThe testimony to immortality which is in our own\\nconsciousness has not often been so strongly given as\\nin these lines by Dr. William H. Furness. They are\\nwritten from out the fulness of a good man s heart:\\nWhat is this that stirs within,\\nLoving goodness, hating sin,\\nAlways craving to be blest,\\nFinding here below no rest?\\nWhat is it? whither, whence,\\nThis unsleeping, secret sense,\\nSeeking for its rest and food\\nIn some hidden, untried good?\\nTis the soul, mysterious name,\\nHim it seeks from whom it came\\nWhile I muse, I feel the fire\\nBurning on, and mounting higher.\\nOnward, upward to thy throne,\\nO thou Infinite, unknown\\nStill it presseth, till it see\\nThee in all, and all in thee\\nSAILING UNDER FALSE COLORS.\\nThere is said to be a king of a tribe on the west\\ncoast of Africa who has a mania for collecting British\\nwar medals, and a London firm has a standing order", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0316.jp2"}, "317": {"fulltext": "LOVE AND TRUST.\\n307\\nto supply his sable majesty. This king owns a ma-\\njor-general s tunic on which, are sewn, both back and\\nfront and from collar to tails, medals and clasps from\\nWaterloo down to the present. This garment the\\nmonarch proudly sports on special state occasions.\\nWhat a false idea of greatness that king has He\\ndoes not realize that the medals are worthless except\\nas they are the outward symbol of an inner courage\\nand nobility of spirit. Yet he is not alone there are\\nmany people in civilized lands who are willing to flaunt\\nthe symbols of greatness and goodness who never\\ndream of sharing the self-sacrifice and carrying the\\nburdens which develop noble souls.\\nLOVE AND TRUST.\\nUseless regrets and self-criminations may be calmed\\nby yielding to the inevitable in a spirit of love and\\ntrust. No one has sung this faith more sweetly than\\nour poet, Samuel Longfellow, who in his own experi-\\nence knew the depth of suffering and the blessedness\\nof looking to the Eternal Love\\nI look to thee in every need,\\nAnd never look in vain\\nI feel thy touch, Eternal Love,\\nAnd all is well again\\nThe thought of thee is mightier far\\nThan sin and pain and sorrow are.\\nDiscouraged in the work of life,\\nDisheartened by its load,\\nShamed by its failures or its fears,\\nI sink beside the road", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0317.jp2"}, "318": {"fulltext": "308\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nBut let ine only think of thee,\\nAnd then new heart springs up in me.\\nThy calmness bends serene above,\\nMy restlessness to still;\\nAround me flows thy quickening life,\\nTo nerve my faltering will\\nThy presence fills my solitude,\\nThy providence turns all to good.\\nEmbosomed deep in thy dear love,\\nHeld in thy law, I stand\\nThy hand in all things I behold,\\nAnd all things in thy hand.\\nThou leadest me by unsought ways,\\nAnd turn st my mourning into praise.\\nTHE INFALLIBLE DETECTIVE.\\nA rich American residing in St. George s quarter in\\nParis had been for some time the victim of systematic\\nthefts. Bank-notes and money not left under lock\\nand key disappeared regularly. The commissary of\\npolice was informed of the robberies. He found it\\nwould be impossible to get an effective watch on the\\nbedroom where the thefts occurred, but he adopted a\\nstratagem which turned out successfully. A small\\nvial containing a mixture of acid was placed in a\\nmetal case for holding gold, and a few napoleons\\nwere placed on top. In order to get out the gold the\\nmetal case had to be held upside down, and then the\\nchemical preparation would run out and stain the\\nthief s hands a bright and indelible yellow. As soon\\nas some of the gold was missed the commissioner\\nsummoned all the servants to his presence. The val-", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0318.jp2"}, "319": {"fulltext": "LIKE A PALM-TREE.\\n309\\net s fingers betrayed him. Realizing the uselessness\\nof denying when caught yellow-handed, he con-\\nfessed and was duly locked up. The influence of\\nsin on character is like that. It is not necessary in\\norder that a man come to his ruin that some one shall\\nwatch him in his iniquity. There is a deadly acid\\nabout sin that leaves its stain on the soul. A man s\\nown personality will witness against him or for him\\nin the day of judgment.\\nTHE GROWTH OF EASTER.\\nEvery Easter-time increases the circle of the hope-\\nful multitude of earth who rejoice in confidence of\\nthe immortal life. It is surely a characteristic voice\\nof our age when Tennyson sings\\nFor tho from out our bourne of Time and Place\\nThe floods may bear me far,\\nI hope to see my Pilot face to face\\nWhen I have crossed the bar.\\nLIKE A PALM-TREE.\\nThe palm has been called the blessed tree, for every\\npart of it has its usefulness for mankind. Certain\\nmedicinal qualities are claimed for its roots, and its\\ntrunk is easily split into strips, making excellent\\nboards for the siding of houses, benches, and even\\ntables. As the trunk is without bark, and its center\\nis very porous, increasing in density toward the outer\\nsurface, which is nearly as hard as glass, it is only\\nthe outside hard shell of the trunk which furnishes", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0319.jp2"}, "320": {"fulltext": "310\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nthese boards. From this hard, fibrous wood some\\nvery pretty canes are made, which take a most beau-\\ntiful polish. The leaves of the palm grow from the\\ncenter of the trunk, first in the form of a delicate\\nspire shooting up, which, gradually unfolding itself,\\nforms a new leaf. These leaves continue to, grow\\nfrom the center spire to a great length, forming a\\ncluster which, in the case of the royal palm, resem-\\nbles a bunch of enormous plumes. The leaves, when\\nthey can not grow any more, drop to the ground from\\nthe bottom of the cluster, thus making room for the\\nnew ones which are always coming out of the center.\\nThe bud or root of the center spire, from which the\\nleaves grow, consists of a tender substance buried\\ndeep down within the cluster of green leaves, and\\nforms a very palatable food. How much it means\\nwhen God compares us to a palm-tree, and promises\\nthat in old age we shall be like the palm, ever green\\nand fruitful and blessed to the world\\nSHINE AFTER CLOUD.\\nWe may ever comfort ourselves with the knowledge\\nthat the afterward of many of the trials of life is full\\nof peace, Annie Horton Young beautifully expresses\\nit:\\nJust a pink where the clouds have been,\\nJust a gray mist, pale and thin,\\nOver the mountains\\nAnd far in the west\\nA robin flying home to her nest\\nIn the sunset glow.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0320.jp2"}, "321": {"fulltext": "WIND-BLOWN LIVES.\\n311\\nJust a peace where the storm has been,\\nJust a quiet and rest within\\nOver the soul\\nAnd out of the gray\\nA vision glad of a better day\\nWhen the morn shall come.\\nWIND-BLOWN LIVES.\\nWild geese by the wagon-load were slaughtered in\\nthe suburbs of Topeka, Kans., not long ago. It ap-\\npears that some extraordinary atmospheric condition\\nhad brought vast flocks of the fowls down from their\\nlofty courses through the air, and caused them to\\nsail in dismal perplexity within ten or fifteen feet of\\nthe ground. As night began to come down the geese\\nwere attracted by the blazing electric lights, and\\naround and around these lights hundreds of the geese\\nfluttered in blind confusion. It did not take long for\\nthe people living in the vicinity to discover the oppor-\\ntunity- for laying up a supply of the poultry. All\\nwho had guns or revolvers began to shoot into the\\nthick flocks, and geese by the score came tumbling to\\nthe ground. Those who had no guns took long poles\\nand knocked down the distracted birds almost as fast\\nas the gunners did. Men and women are caught up\\nin the winds of life like that sometimes, and fall an\\neasy prey to the devil s pot-hunters. Nothing is\\nmore pathetic than the confused souls who fly hither\\nand thither without a guide. No one need become\\nthus endangered, for Christ offers to be our sure\\nGuide, and those who follow him shall not come into\\nperil.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0321.jp2"}, "322": {"fulltext": "312\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nTHE RISING TIDE.\\nThe tide of goodness in the world is rising steadily\\nbut surely, tho to a narrow observer it sometimes\\nseems to make no progress. Gerald Massey illus-\\ntrates the gratifying fact with singular clearness\\nTis weary watching wave by wave,\\nAnd yet the tide heaves onward.\\nWe climb, like corals, grave by grave,\\nYet pave a path that s sunward.\\nWe are beaten back in many a fray,\\nBut newer strength we borrow\\nAnd where the vanguard camps to-day\\nThe rear shall rest to-morrow.\\nFRUIT IN OLD AGE.\\nPerhaps no artist ever had so prosperous a career\\nas Titian. Success attended him from the first, and\\nduring ninety -nine years no cloud dimmed the bright-\\nness of his horizon. To the end of that marvelous\\nage he retained all his faculties, producing master-\\npieces to the last, and dying finally of the plague, a\\nhale, hearty old man. The princes and potentates of\\nthe earth chose him to leave their image to posterity,\\nand it was the monarch of Austria and Germany, of\\nSpain and the Indies, upon whose vast dominions the\\nsun never set, who picked up the brush that he had\\ndropped, saying that a Titian was worthy to be served\\nby an emperor. To keep life always young and fruit-\\nful in old age, one must have the true artistic temper-\\nament. He must be able to see visions and dream", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0322.jp2"}, "323": {"fulltext": "WHITE SLAVES.\\n313\\ndreams. Christ gives that power to his disciples\\npower to surmount the earthly troubles and limita-\\ntions, and rise up with wings as eagles into an atmos-\\nphere where one may run and not be weary, and walk\\nwithout fainting.\\nWHITE SLAVES.\\nThe saddest thing in our modern life is the pitiful\\nslavery that yet exists in some quarters where labor\\nis not regarded as the work of a man, as a human\\nact, but as the slavery of a hired thing. W. D.\\nHowells writes with biting earnestness of such a\\ncase:\\nA spiteful snow spit through the bitter day\\nIn little stinging pellets gray,\\nAnd crackling on the frozen street\\nAbout the iron feet,\\nBroad stamped in massy shoes\\nSharpened and corked for winter use,\\nOf the huge Norman horses plump and round,\\nIn burnished brass and shining leather bound,\\nDragging each heavy fetlock like a mane,\\nAnd shaking as they pull the ponderous wain\\nWith wheels that jar the ground\\nIn a small earthquake, where they jolt and grind,\\nAnd leave a span- wide track behind\\nAnd hunched above the load\\nAbove the Company s horses like a toad,\\nAll hugged together\\nAgainst the pitiless weather,\\nIn an old cardigan jacket and a cap\\nOf mangy fur,\\nAnd a frayed comforter\\nAround his stiffened chin, too scant to wrap", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0323.jp2"}, "324": {"fulltext": "314\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nHis purple ears,\\nAnd in his blinking eyes what had been tears,\\nBut that they seemed to have frozen there ere they ran,\\nThe Company s man.\\nTHINGS TOO DEEP FOR ANALYSIS.\\nIt is said of James Smithson that, happening to\\nobserve a tear gliding down a lady s cheek, he en-\\ndeavored to catch it in a crystal vessel that one-half\\nof the drop escaped, but, having preserved the other\\nhalf, he analyzed it and detected what was then called\\nmicrocosmic salt, with muriate of soda and three or\\nfour more saline substances held in solution. Some\\npreachers make the great mistake of analyzing the\\nGospel until there is no food left in it for the starv-\\ning flock of God. Instead of analyzing tears it is\\nbetter to try to wipe them away instead of analyzing\\nthe Gospel into such and such spiritual salts and\\nacids, it is better to bring its comfort to bear to solace\\nsorrowing hearts and its salvation to redeem sinful\\nmen and women.\\nTHE HEAVENLY ATTRACTION.\\nChrist said that if he were lifted up before the gaze\\nof the world he would draw all men unto him. Some\\nunknown author has given us a beautiful allegory,\\nunder the title The Sea and the Cloud, illustrating\\nthis heavenly attraction\\nThe great Sea lay and looked on high,\\nWhen, floating aloft in the lovely sky,\\nIt saw a fleecy Cloud so light,\\nSo pure, so spotless, and so bright", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0324.jp2"}, "325": {"fulltext": "THE HEAVENLY ATTRACTION.\\nIt wondered whence so fleet a form\\nArose, the heavens to adorn.\\nThey say, it sighed, that came from earth\\nAnd more, that I have given it birth.\\nBut how absurd to think that I\\nCould ever mount that lofty sky\\nAh I could never be like thee\\nIn the bosom of God thou seem st to be,\\nBesides, and the Sea was silent now,\\nAs it thought of its wild and fevered brow\\nArid how oft in its rage it had dealt a blow\\nThat laid thousands dead in its depths below.\\nAnd yet I perceived it could not rest\\nAs it looked at that beauteous thing so blest.\\nThen it roused up and said, I will try,\\nAnd borrowed the wind to drive it high\\nAnd, gathering its strength, it curled in its pride\\nAnd dashed itself on the rock beside\\nThen, rearing a column of quivering spray,\\nIt seemed to be borne to the heights away\\nBut it fell, alas on the angry breast,\\nBack with its foaming, whitened crest.\\nBaffled and beaten, it buried its head,\\nAnd hid in the depths of its ocean bed.\\nAnd it hissed as it did so, It cannot be\\nI said I knew it was not for me.\\nAt length the great Sea lay quiet and still,\\nFor fell despair had subdued its will\\nWhen the glorious Sun looked forth on the scene\\nAnd gleamed on its bosom in silver sheen,\\nAnd the great Sea looked in the face of the Sun,\\nAnd asked if it knew what could be done\\nThe Moon draws me hither and thither, it said.\\nBut it can not uplift me from my bed\\nNor can it transform this turbid breast\\nInto that thing so pure and blest.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0325.jp2"}, "326": {"fulltext": "316\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nCanst thou transform me? said the Sea.\\nOh, yes, said the Sun, if you ll suffer me.\\nAnd the Sun sent down a noiseless ray,\\nThat loosened and warmed the Sea as it lay,\\nAnd lifted it up, how, it never knew,\\nA fleecy Cloud in the heavens blue.\\nDo you know the parable, listener fair?\\nCan you take the lesson that s couching there?\\nAre you that Sea with its fond desire,\\nSighing and struggling to reach up higher?\\nDoes perfect grace attract thine eye,\\nAnd to attain it dost thou try?\\nBut do baffled efforts mock thy skill,\\nWhile sorrow and aDguish thy spirit fill\\nAnd thou say st, In God s bosom that grace must rest\\nIt never can visit my troubled breast?\\nNow, change thy plan and behold the Son,\\nJust rest and trust, and the work is done.\\nTransformed by beholding him thou lt be,\\nHis great salvation thou shalt see.\\nThe process tis well that thou canst not know;\\nEnough for thee it is even so,\\nThat he lifts thee up and makes thee fit\\nIn the heavenly places with him to sit.\\nTHE NEMESIS OF SIN.\\nFifteen years ago a young workman in a frenzy\\nof rage killed a comrade. Both, he and his victim\\nwere very young little more than boys. They at-\\ntended the same dance, and had a falling out, possi-\\nbly about some partner in the festivities, and this\\nyoung fellow followed the other from the hall and\\nkilled him. He was released and tried to live down\\nhis crime. He married a good woman, had several", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0326.jp2"}, "327": {"fulltext": "HELPING THE WEAK.\\n317\\nchildren, and kept at work. Bnt memory would not\\ndown. He was not naturally a criminal, but, yielding\\nto his fierce temper, he had committed a crime. He\\nbecame convinced that he was bad, and so let all that\\nwas base in him have full rein. Having lost hope,\\nhe took his own life with a bottle of poison. There\\nis only one way to disarm the Nemesis of sin, and\\nthat is by obtaining forgiveness at the mercy-seat of\\nChrist. He alone can pluck out the sting of guilt\\nand give to the pardoned sinner the consciousness of\\nbeing a new creature.\\nTHE ROAD HOME.\\nRev. Hiram D. Bacon writes a striking little prayer\\nwhich will find an echo in the heart of every true\\nChristian pilgrim:\\nTeach me the way\\nLord\\nThe way of truth and right\\nLet me not stray\\nLord\\nIn the darkness of the night\\nDuty s path do thou make plain,\\nThe path which thou hast trod,\\nThe path which if I walk therein\\nWill lead me home to God.\\nHELPING THE WEAK*\\nAn English traveler who was considerably inter-\\nested in birds happened to be passing the autumn in\\nthe Isle of Crete, in the Mediterranean, and he often\\nnoticed a sound like the twittering of small birds at", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0327.jp2"}, "328": {"fulltext": "318\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\ntimes when the sand-cranes were passing overhead on\\ntheir way southward. As the only fowl in sight were\\nthe cranes, this aroused his curiosity, and he men-\\ntioned the matter to a friend who was a native of the\\nisland, suggesting that possibly the noise was caused\\nby the whirring of the feathers of these great birds.\\nHis friend, however, said no the noise, he declared,\\nwas made by song-birds that were riding on the backs\\nof the cranes, and he further asserted that the saucy\\nlittle fellows had come all the way from the coast of\\nEurope with their good-natured companions, who\\nlent, if not a helping hand, a helping back, which\\nwas much more serviceable. A few days later the\\nEnglishman got pretty conclusive proof of the truth\\nof this statement. He was cruising about in a boat\\nabout fifteen miles from shore when another flock of\\ncranes passed overhead, and he heard the same twit-\\ntering notes. He therefore discharged his gun to see\\nwhat would come of it, and forthwith he saw three\\nsmall birds rise up from the flock in fright. After a\\nshort time they disappeared again among the cranes.\\nThe Indians of the region south of Hudson Bay tell\\na similar tale of a song-finch which travels across\\nthat great body of water and ice very comfortably on\\nthe back of a Canada goose. It seems that God has\\nthus put into geese and cranes the instinct to give a\\nhelping back to bear the burdens of weaker fowl.\\nThose who name the name of Jesus Christ ought cer-\\ntainly to have hearts as tender as these birds. We\\nshow forth the spirit of Christ when we bend our\\nback to carry the burdens of God s weaker singers.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0328.jp2"}, "329": {"fulltext": "THE BIBLE FOR STUDENTS OF ENGLISH. 319\\nNo music will be so sweet as the thanksgiving of such\\nhearts which we have gladdened by our help.\\nTHE MOTHERHOOD OF GOD.\\nMrs. Browning s beautiful little poem entitled, A\\nChild s Thought of God, brings to our mind the\\npromise that God will treat us as one whom his\\nmother comf orteth\\nThey say that God lives very high\\nBut if you look above the pines\\nYou can not see our God, and why?\\nAnd if you dig down in the mines\\nYou never see him in the gold,\\nTho, from him, all that glory shines.\\nGod is so good, he wears a fold\\nOf heaven and earth across his face,\\nLike secrets kept, for love, untold.\\nBut still I feel that his embrace\\nSlides down by thrills, through all things made,\\nThrough sight and sound of every place\\nAs if my tender mother laid\\nOn my shut lids her kisses pressure,\\nHalf -waking me at night and said\\nWho kissed you in the dark, dear guesser?\\nTHE BIBLE FOR STUDENTS OF ENGLISH.\\nMr. Frederic Harrison recently had a striking arti-\\ncle in The Nineteenth Century Style in English\\nProse which one might well wish to put into the\\nhands of all the young people who throng the colleges\\nof the country. After an extended discussion of", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0329.jp2"}, "330": {"fulltext": "320\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nwhat a good style is, and of the authors to be read\\nin order to attain it, he concludes by saying I need\\nhardly tell you to read another and a greater Book.\\nThe Book which begot English prose still remains its\\nsupreme type. The English Bible is the true school\\nof English literature. It possesses every quality of\\nour language in its highest form except for scientific\\nprecision, practical affairs, and philosophic analysis.\\nIt would be ridiculous to write an essay on meta-\\nphysics, a political article, or a novel in the language\\nof the Bible. Indeed, it would be ridiculous to write\\nanything at all in the language of the Bible. But if\\nyou care to know the best that our literature can give\\nin simple noble prose, mark, learn, and inwardly digest\\nthe Holy Scriptures in the English tongue.\\nUNSELFISHNESS,\\nLucy Larcom makes it very clear that unselfishness\\nis the only atmosphere in which the spiritual graces\\ncan grow\\nIf selfishly thy heaven I seek,\\nI seek thy heaven in vain,\\nI heard my heart within me speak\\nI hear it yet again.\\nFor heaven is all unselfishness\\nThe souls whose home is there\\nHave never dreamed of happiness\\nThey do not long to share.\\nIf selfishly thy love I seek,\\nI seek thy love in vain.\\nPlace at thy side need none bespeak\\nWho shrink back from thy pain.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0330.jp2"}, "331": {"fulltext": "LOVE S WILLING SERVICE. 321\\nFor love thy love is sacrifice\\nWho seeketh still his own,\\nNor for his brethren lives and dies,\\nThyself hath never known.\\nDear Lord, each selfish thought we think\\nPuts us afar from thee\\nInto our own dark depths we sink,\\nWhere heaven can never be.\\nTeach us to know thee as thou art\\nTo give as thou hast given\\nO show us how the loving heart\\nMay make this world a heaven\\nLOVE S WILLING SERVICE.\\nClifford Howard tells a most fascinating story of\\nthe supreme love which existed between Eobert and\\nElizabeth Barrett Browning. He relates that when\\nMr. Browning returned with her on a visit to Eng-\\nland, after an absence of several years, he repaired\\nto the little church in which they had been married,\\nand there at the entrance he reverently knelt and\\nkissed the paving-stones upon which she, the light of\\nhis being, had stepped. And in after years, when the\\nlight had gone from his life, he sought this sacred\\nspot on the 12th of each September, and in the dusk\\nof the evening shadows passers-by might have seen a\\nwhite-haired man kneeling for a moment as if in\\nprayer before the doorway of the dark and silent\\nchurch. Yet little would they have thought to recog-\\nnize in this man the poet Browning, he whose mys-\\ntical writings had led the world to regard him as a\\nman of austere nature. During her long illness he\\n21", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0331.jp2"}, "332": {"fulltext": "322\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nnursed her with almost pathetic care. Oftentimes\\nwould he rise early in the morning, long ere the time\\nfor her awakening, and, hastening forth into the garden\\nor the fields, gather a bunch of fragrant blossoms to\\nplace at her bedside, that they might be the first real-\\nities of life to greet her with their sunshine and with\\ntheir tender message of love upon her return from the\\nworld of dreams. To shield her delicate eyes from\\nthe light he had placed at the window of her room a\\nsmall shutter of mica, so arranged that the sunlight\\nmight fall upon her table in subdued and gentle radi-\\nance. Love makes service light. Love never asks\\nhow little it can do, but how much it can do for the\\nbeloved s sake. If we rise to full appreciation of the\\nlove of Christ for us, our love for him will give us\\nwings that shall be tireless to carry us on errands of\\nmercy in his name,\\nTHE FREEDOM OF DEATH.\\nDeath sets free from all the little worries of life.\\nWhen Tennyson came to his dying day he called for\\nhis favorite copy of Shakespeare, turned to Cym-\\nbeline, read a little, and fell asleep with the book\\nstill in his hand, and thus calmly passed away.\\nFear no more the heat o th sun,\\nNor the furious winter s rages;\\nThou thy worldly task hast done,\\nHome art gone and ta en thy wages:\\nGolden lads and girls all must,\\nAs chimney-sweepers, come to dust.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0332.jp2"}, "333": {"fulltext": "THE PLODDER S PETITION.\\n323\\nFear no more frown o the great,\\nThou art past the tyrant s stroke\\nCare no more to clothe and eat\\nTo thee the reed is as the oak\\nThe scepter, learning, physic, must\\nAll follow this and come to dust.\\nFear no more the lightning-flash,\\nNor the all-dreaded thunder-storm\\nFear no slander, censure rash\\nThou hast finished joy and moan\\nAll lovers young, all lovers must\\nConsign to thee, and come to dust.\\nNo exorciser harm thee\\nNor no witchcraft charm thee\\nGhost unlaid forbear thee\\nNothing ill come near thee\\nQuiet consummation have\\nAnd renowned be thy grave\\nTHE PLODDER S PETITION.\\nOne of the hardest things we have to contend with\\nin this world is to keep the romantic and heroic spirit\\nin the midst of the prosaic and commonplace experi-\\nences in which most of us have to spend a good part\\nof our lives. If we do not keep constantly in our\\nthought the development of the spiritual, the worldly\\nand the sensual come in like a flood and smother out\\nthe better life entirely. Helen Gilbert voices the\\nj theme with great clearness in her little poem entitled\\nThe Plodder s Petition\\nLord, let me not be too content\\nWith life in trifling service spent\\nMake me aspire", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0333.jp2"}, "334": {"fulltext": "324\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nWhen days with petty cares are filled,\\nLet me with fleeting thoughts be thrilled\\nOf something higher\\nLONGING THE STEPPING-STONE TO\\nACHIEVEMENT,\\nOur condition is at the worst when we are conscious\\nof no longing for something nobler and better. J ames\\nKussell Lowell inspires us to thank God for the long-\\ning for nobler things that spurs us onward and up-\\nward.\\nOf all the myriad moods of mind\\nThat through the soul come thronging,\\nWhich one was e er so dear, so kind,\\nSo beautiful as Longing?\\nThat thing we long for, that we are\\nFor one transcendent moment,\\nBefore the Present poor and bare\\nCan make its sneering comment.\\nStill through our paltry stir and strife\\nGlows down the wished Ideal,\\nAnd Longing molds in clay what Life\\nCarves in the marble Real\\nTo let the new life in, we know,\\nDesire must ope the portal\\nPerhaps the longing to be so\\nHelps make the soul immortal.\\nLonging is God s fresh heavenward will\\nWith our poor earthward striving\\nWe quench it that we may be still\\nContent with merely living\\nBut, would we learn the heart s full scope*\\nWhich we are hourly wronging,\\nOur lives must climb from hope to hope\\nAnd realize our longing.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0334.jp2"}, "335": {"fulltext": "SUCCESS BY OPPRESSION.\\n325\\nAh, let us hope that to our praise\\nGood God not only reckons\\nThe moments when we tread his ways,\\nBut when the spirit beckons\\nThat some slight good is also wrought,\\nBeyond self-satisfaction,\\nWhen we are simply good in thought,\\nHowe er we fail in action.\\nSUCCESS BY OPPRESSION.\\nDown among the oaks that line the shores of Merry-\\nMeeting Bay, on the coast of Maine, a colony of eagles\\nhave lived for generations. During the summer months\\nthey subsist largely on fish. Their mode of procuring\\nthem is very ingenious. Almost any day they may be\\nseen perched upon a convenient stump or bough near\\nthe water s edge, like gray, grim sentinels, silently\\nwaiting for something to turn up. That something\\nis a fish-hawk; and when he makes his appearance\\nand slowly circles around in search of his prey the\\neagles eyes follow him, and when at last he succeeds\\nin bringing up a fish an eagle starts in pursuit.\\nBeing swift of wing, he soon overtakes the hawk,\\nwhich makes every effort to get away but without\\navail. The eagle scales under the hawk, that by this\\ntime has become so thoroughly frightened as to drop\\nthe fish. This is easily caught in the talons of the\\neagle, and flying swiftly to the shore he devours the\\nstolen meal. There are many business men in these\\ndays who count on getting their luxurious living by\\nseizing the hard-earned profits of another s toil giant\\ntrusts that swoop down on small manufacturers and", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0335.jp2"}, "336": {"fulltext": "326\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nindividual traders with talons as cruel and relentless\\nas those with which the eagle threatens the industri-\\nous fish -hawk. The reign of Christ must do away\\nwith this cruel, if respectable, pillage. In Christ s\\nkingdom no man will make his profit through sorrow\\nand loss to another. The Golden Rule will make\\nthat impossible.\\nTHE MASTER S FACE.\\nThat the best picture of J esus one can have a pic-\\nture more splendid than the art of Raphael could\\npaint is the portrait impressed by the Holy Spirit on\\na loving heart, is made clear in a little poem by Jan\\nvon Bohlyns, entitled The Master s Face\\nNo pictured likeness of my Lord have I\\nHe carved no record of his ministry\\nOn wood or stone\\nHe left no sculptured tomb or parchment dim,\\nBut trusted for all memory of him\\nMen s hearts alone.\\nSometimes I long to see him as of old\\nJudea saw, and in my gaze to hold\\nHis face enshrined\\nOften, amid the world s tumultuous strife,\\nSome slight memorial of his earthly life\\nI long to find.\\nWho sees the face sees but in part who reads\\nThe spirit which it hides sees all he needs\\nNo more. Thy grace\\nThy life, in my life, Lord, give thou to me;\\nAnd then, in truth, I may forever see\\nMy Master s face", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0336.jp2"}, "337": {"fulltext": "THE TRAGEDY OF SKULKING SINS. 327\\nTHE TRAGEDY OF SKULKING SINS.\\nThere are nearly always plenty of rats in a Penn-\\nsylvania coal-mine. These rats never leave the mines\\nso long as work is going on. The food of the mine\\nmnles is kept in the mines, and on this the rats largely\\nsubsist. They swarm about when the mules are eat-\\ning, and sometimes the mules have to fight the rats to\\nsave their meal. When a mine lies idle any length\\nof time, and the mules are taken out, the rats aban-\\ndon it, and become a great pest in the mining villages.\\nOnce a big coal -miners strike was broken up by the\\nrats. When work shut down the mules were taken\\nout, and the rats, being thus deprived of their suste-\\nnance, abandoned the mine and took up their quarters\\nabout the miners shanties, where they soon became a\\nterror to the families. The strike continued, and the\\nsupplies of the men became exhausted. Miners at\\nneighboring colleries, who were at work, responded to\\nthe requests of their striking brothers for aid, and\\nsent two wagon-loads of provisions and supplies of\\nvarious kinds. These were taken in charge by a com-\\nmittee appointed for the purpose, and what was not\\nimmediately distributed was stored in a building,\\nfrom which it was to be given out from time to time\\nto the neediest of the miners. The very first night\\nthe supplies were raided by a horde of rats, and every-\\nthing was devoured or carried away. Four different\\nlots of provisions were contributed by the sympathetic\\nworking miners, but it was impossible to save more\\nthan one-third of them from the rats. The miners", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0337.jp2"}, "338": {"fulltext": "328\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nwere forced to weaken, and resume work on such\\nterms as they could obtain, absolutely beaten by the\\nrats. Many a man is hindered from his greatest suc-\\ncess by rat-like sins that eat out the bottom of his\\npocketbook. Men who earn wages enough to live\\nin peace and self-respect find that they can not sup-\\nport their families and their sins at the same time.\\nThe mightiest labor problem of our time would find\\nrapid solution if the drink-rat and the gambling-rat\\ncould be stamped to death.\\nDEATH TRANSIENT; LIFE LASTING,\\nMrs. Farningham gives us in these lines a most in-\\nspiring Easter message\\nEvery clear, sun-silvered river\\nRunning to the sea,\\nEvery wind-swept, daisied meadow,\\nEvery budding tree,\\nMoved by young Spring s glee,\\nTells us, with exulting breath,\\nLife is victor over death.\\nEvery bird trills forth the secret\\nIn the lighted glade\\nEvery blossom tells the story\\nEre its petals fade\\nBe not thou afraid\\nDeath is transient, life lasts on\\nPerfect life through death is won.\\nLong ago, within a garden\\nWas an empty grave.\\nWeeping women stood beside it,\\nWhom the Lord forgave\\nBut he made them brave,", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0338.jp2"}, "339": {"fulltext": "THE QUIET HEROES.\\n329\\nChanged to dawn their sorrow s night,\\nFlooded all the world with light\\nIs the church to-day in sorrow\\nGazing on the cross\\nDo we mourn a Savior dying,\\nWeeping for his loss\\nLet not grief engross\\nAny loyal soul, since he\\nDied to live eternally.\\nGod declares the resurrection\\nIn each new springtide\\nGrace and peace to men are given\\nThrough Christ crucified\\nOh, let joy abide\\nTears are not for holy days\\nBring him songs of thankful praise.\\nTHE QUIET HEROES.\\nNobody would wish to detract from the glory of\\nAdmiral Dewey in annihilating the Spanish fleet in\\nthe harbor of Manila, or from the wreath that adorns\\nthe brow of Lieutenant Hobson for his brilliant work\\nwith the Merrimac. But there are quieter heroes,\\nwhose heroism is just as noble in every way, about\\nwhom little is said. Lieutenant Victor Blue is a\\nspecimen of this type. He was sent into the hills\\nback of Santiago to spy out the land. He saw the\\nSpanish fleet there, and for the first time absolutely\\nascertained that all Admiral Cervera s ships save the\\nTerror were in Commodore Schley s trap. It was not\\na very dramatic performance, but he risked his life at\\nevery step he took on land, and knew that if captured", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0339.jp2"}, "340": {"fulltext": "330\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nhe would not be treated like an honored prisoner, as\\nin the case of Hobson, but would be hanged as a spy.\\nNo place on the battle -line demands a supremer\\nquality of courage than that which was exhibited by\\nthis hero on his lonely tour. The common walks of life\\nare full of lonely heroes whose performances are never\\napplauded, but who patiently climb the hills of life,\\nrisking a shot from ambush at every step, yet go on\\ndoing their duty when only God knows the heroic\\nquality of their work. But God does know, and such\\nwork never goes unreckoned by him. He keeps a\\nBook of Remembrance, and some day it shall be opened\\nand all such heroes shall have their crown.\\nA PERSONAL SAVIOR.\\nA little poem entitled My Savior, by a writer\\nwhose name is unknown to me, brings out with ten-\\nder pathos the personal gratitude we owe to the\\nSavior\\nUnder an Eastern sky,\\nAmid a rabble cry,\\nA Man went forth to die\\nFor me\\nThorn-crowned his blessed head,\\nBlood-stained his weary tread,\\nCross-laden, on he sped\\nFor me\\nPierced were his hands and feet\\nThree hours o er him beat\\nFierce rays of noontide heat\\nFor me", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0340.jp2"}, "341": {"fulltext": "SECRET ALLIANCES.\\n331\\nThus wert thou made all mine\\nLord, make me wholly thine\\nGrant grace and strength divine\\nTo me!\\nIn thought and word and deed\\nThy will to do, O lead\\nMy soul, e en tho it bleed,\\nTo thee\\nSECRET ALLIANCES,\\nDuring the last few years the attention of the\\ncountry and of the Government have been attracted\\nto the obstruction to navigation in Florida rivers by\\nthe water hyacinth. It is a very delicate little orna-\\nmental flowering plant, but when multiplied by mil-\\nlions becomes very powerful. When a large steamer\\nat full speed strikes a floating bank of hyacinths, it\\ncomes almost to a standstill. A screw propeller finds\\nit impossible to penetrate a very large mass of the\\nplants, as they become so entangled about the screw\\nas to prevent it from revolving. A new complication\\nhas arisen in the problem. The Government was\\nasked to make a fight for extermination on the ground\\nthat the plant was a pest but it now transpires that\\nmany of the farmers of Florida think the water hya-\\ncinth a pretty good cattle food, and are quietly prop-\\nagating it where it had not before existed. This\\nstrange development in the case has made it impos-\\nsible for the Department at Washington to continue a\\nwar of extermination against the plant. Many peo-\\nple whose sins have shamed and disgraced them so\\nthat they have prayed for freedom have still contin-", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0341.jp2"}, "342": {"fulltext": "332\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nued to cherish them in secret. God can not heip\\nus in that way. There is only one way by which he\\ncan give us freedom from our enemy, and that is by\\nstamping it out entirely. He must cleanse us from\\nall sin or from none. If we open our hearts com-\\npletely to his coming, he will banish every evil guest.\\nTHE LESSON OF RESIGNATION.\\nThe lesson of resignation is one of the hardest God\\nhas to teach us. Happy indeed are we if, passing\\nthrough these experiences, we issue at last into per-\\nfect trust\\nI prayed for work Let me, dear Lord,\\nA laborer in thy vineyard be.\\nThe answer came Dear child, it said,\\nWith folded hands thou It best serve me.\\nBut why, I cried, with folded hands\\nUrgent the need, the harvest great.\\nGently the Master made reply,\\nThey also serve who only wait.\\nI longed for health that so I might\\nEnjoy a while this earthly life.\\nCame restless days, and weary nights,\\nAnd pain, discomfort, mental strife.\\nAnd then I cried with wavering faith,\\nThis constant crossing of my will\\nAnd thwarted plans Can I be sure\\nThat my dear Savior loves me still\\nIn pleading tones the Master said\\nMy changeless love thou canst not see\\nDear as the apple of mine eye,\\nPoor, suffering child, thou art to me.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0342.jp2"}, "343": {"fulltext": "QUEER IDEAS OF HONOR. 333\\nI hold thee, child, with watchful care\\nEach thwarted plan, each change and loss,\\nIs but to make thee pure within\\nAnd cleanse thy soul, as gold, from dross.\\nMy faith returned, peace filled my soul,\\nNo longer did my heart rebel.\\nCome pain, come disappointment sore,\\nIf he is with me all is well.\\nQUEER IDEAS OF HONOR.\\nCaptain Sigsbee, the heroic commander of the de-\\nstroyed battleship Maine, has been challenged by\\nLieutenant Carranza, late naval attache in Washing-\\nton of the Spanish legation, to fight a duel. Just be-\\nfore leaving Washington for Canada, this Spanish\\nattache sent a challenge to Captain Sigsbee to mortal\\ncombat to repel what he calls an outrageous attack\\non the Spanish people, made in the captain s testi-\\nmony before a Senate committee concerning the de-\\nstruction of the Maine. The lieutenant has said in\\nan interview that after he has disposed of Captain\\nSigsbee he will also challenge Consul-General Lee. I\\nsuppose his idea is that if he could kill both these\\nmen the honor of Spain in regard to the destruction\\nof the Maine would be forever cleared. Mrs. Sigsbee,\\nwho opened her husband s mail in his absence, pasted\\nthe challenge in a scrap-book as a curiosity. Ameri-\\ncan naval captains are debarred from fighting duels,\\nand would be dismissed from the service for such con-\\nduct. Real honor is never vindicated or sustained in\\nsuch artificial ways. Honor is a thing of character,", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0343.jp2"}, "344": {"fulltext": "334\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nand can never be lost or won except by the action of\\nthe man himself.\\nTHANKSGIVING.\\nChristina Eossetti points out that under all circum-\\nstances one may find cause for thanksgiving to God,\\nand so have happiness\\nMy vineyard that is mine I have to keep\\nPruning for fruit the pleasant twigs and leaves.\\nTend thou thy cornfield one day thou shalt reap\\nIn joy thy ripened sheaves.\\nOr if thine be an orchard, graft and prop\\nFood-bearing trees, each watered in its place\\nOr if a garden, let it yield for crop\\nSweet herbs and herb of grace.\\nBut if my lot be sand, where nothing grows?\\nNay, who hath said it? Tune a thankful psalm\\nFor tho thy desert bloom not as the rose,\\nIt yet can rear thy palm.\\nCOOPERATION.\\nA large wholesale shoe-house surprised its employees\\non Christmas Eve by enclosing in the pay envelope\\nof each one of them a letter beginning as follows\\nOur business for the past year has been fairly satis-\\nfactory. We feel disposed to share, in a measure,\\nwith our employees, and we herewith enclose a check\\nfor which is ten per cent, of your salary for\\nthe year 1898. This we have done to all of our store\\nemployees who have been with us for one year or\\nmore. We want your help and cooperation to make", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0344.jp2"}, "345": {"fulltext": "THE PRICE OF PEACE.\\n335\\nthis business still more of a success in 1899. This\\nwas not only a wise and graceful act on the part of\\nthis business firm, but it suggests the fact that coop-\\neration is necessary to great success in every depart-\\nment of human life not only in business circles, but\\nin the home and in society, and in no place more cer-\\ntainly than in the church, is great success contingent\\non harmonious and earnest cooperation on the part of\\nall concerned.\\nHAD A FRIEND.\\nWhat is the secret of your life? asked Mrs.\\nBrowning of Charles Kingsley. Tell me, that I may\\nmake mine beautiful, too. I had a friend. Com-\\nmenting, one well says Truer words were never\\nspoken. There is nothing that brings sunshine to our\\nlives, takes us out of ourselves, and makes life really\\nbeautiful and worth the living, like a friend.\\nGod never loved me in so sweet a way before.\\nTis he alone who can such blessings send.\\nAnd when his love would new expression find,\\nHe brought thee to me and he said, Behold a friend\\nTHE PRICE OF PEACE.\\nThe first Nathan Mayer, the founder of the Eoths-\\nchild family, was a miser and a coward. In his later\\nyears he was desperately afraid of assassins, and men\\nwhom he had robbed in the gambling game of the\\nExchange used to take a hideous revenge by sending\\nhim threatening letters which would make him shriek\\nwith terror. In terror he lived, in terror he died, at", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0345.jp2"}, "346": {"fulltext": "336\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nFrankfort, in the circle of his brethren, crying, He\\nis trying to kill me while the familiar faces of his\\nkindred looked down on him in helpless pity. Money\\nwill not buy peace. Peace comes to those whose\\nhearts are in harmony with God and who are con-\\nscious of good will toward their fellows.\\nSAVE THE FRAGMENTS.\\nSome people when traveling or visiting or on a va-\\ncation seem to feel that as their time is to be broken\\ninto small periods it is not worth while to undertake\\nto exercise any helpful influence but that is a great\\nmistake. The secret of rich strong lives is largely in\\nthe saving of the fragments of time for the gather-\\ning or distributing of something that is of benefit.\\nMary Lowe Dickinson sings this very impressively in\\na little poem, If We Had But a Day\\nWe should fill the hours with the sweetest things,\\nIf we had but a day\\nWe should drink alone at the purest springs\\nIn our upward way\\nWe should love with a lifetime s love in an hour,\\nIf the hours were few\\nWe should rest, not for dreams, but for fresher power\\nTo be and to do.\\nWe should guide our wayward or wearied wills\\nBy the clearest light\\nWe should keep our eyes on the heavenly hills\\nIf they lay in sight\\nWe should trample the pride and the discontent\\nBeneath our feet\\nWe should take whatever a good God sent\\nWith a trust complete.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0346.jp2"}, "347": {"fulltext": "THE KING S GOLD.\\n337\\nWe should waste no moments in weak regret,\\nIf the day were but one\\nIf what we remember and what we forget\\nWent out with the sun\\nWe should be from our clamorous selves set free\\nTo work or to pray,\\nAnd to be what the Father would have us be,\\nIf we had but a day.\\nTHE KING S GOLD,\\nThe Emperor of Germany celebrated Christmas-\\ntime by giving presents very widely. When he wit-\\nnessed the exercises of the Guard recruits, he handed\\na number of gold pieces to the winners in person, and\\nfinally threw several handfuls of gold coins among\\nthe soldiers, for which there was a vigorous scram-\\nbling. Later in the day he walked out and addressed\\na number of watchmen, laborers, and private citizens\\nin a familiar way, and after inquiring into their cir-\\ncumstances presented each of them with gold pieces.\\nOn his return to the palace he met a little old woman,\\nto whom he said: Well, little mother, how goes\\nit? The woman looked up in surprise, and not know-\\ning who it was that spoke to her, began to relate her\\nadversities. The Kaiser interrupted her by giving\\nher all the money he had left in his pockets and wish-\\ning her a merry Christmas. Our King has a wiser\\nway of giving to his children the gold of the eternal\\nkingdom. He does not on some special occasion fling\\nit out in hanclfuls to be scrambled over, but he sup-\\nplies all our need with intelligent love. If any go\\nspiritually bankrupt it is their own fault, for the sup-\\n22", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0347.jp2"}, "348": {"fulltext": "338\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nply is unlimited and the willingness to bestow un-\\nbounded.\\nTHE SONG THE WORLD NEEDS.\\nLida Diederich sings a strong note, under the title\\nThe Listening Heart of the World, concerning the\\nmessage the world longs to hear. In studying it we\\nmay find suggestions of things we can do to answer\\nthat longing in the circle where we live\\nFor a singer who stands on the height\\nWith a face turned toward the light,\\nThe light that for ever and ever streams\\nDown from the land of hopes and dreams,\\nListens the heart of the world.\\nFor a singer of hope and cheer,\\nOf courage that conquers fear,\\nOf love that triumphs o er loss and grief,\\nOf pain that is merged in sweet relief,\\nListens the heart of the world.\\nFor a voice that shall sing through the night\\nOf radiant stars alight,\\nAnd with ringing notes of gladness speak\\nOf the dawn that brightens beyond the peak,\\nListens the heart of the world.\\nFor the way is weary and long\\nAnd a brooding sense of wrong,\\nA consciousness that can not be stilled,\\nOf bootless labor and lives unfilled,\\nBurdens the heart of the world.\\nNot for a bitter strain,\\nBreathing of loss and pain,\\nFlinging its sorrow and smart\\nBack on its bruised heart,\\nListens the weary world", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0348.jp2"}, "349": {"fulltext": "EARTH S CHANGING SCENES. 339\\nBut for the voice that saith,\\nSorrow and pain and death\\nAre only a part of the now and here,\\nBeyond and to-morrow the way is clear\\nListens the heart of the world.\\nPoised on the heights of time,\\nLeans the singer with face sublime.\\nThis song of courage and hope and love\\nRises the discord of earth above,\\nListen, O heart of the world\\nAnd earth shall take up the song\\nAnd the souls that have waited so long\\nShall find from their burden a sure release,\\nAnd thrill and fill with an infinite peace,\\nListen, O heart of the world\\nEARTH S CHANGING SCENES.\\nA man returned to New York City during the holi-\\ndays, after having been away eighteen years, and\\nwent to an old hotel cafe, hoping to meet some of his\\nfriends who used to haunt that place. Not finding\\nany of them, he went up to the oyster-counter, where\\nhe recognized a man who had been opening oysters\\nthere twenty years before. Calling him by name, he\\ninquired if one of his old friends, whom he named,\\nhad been in that night. The oyster-knife dropped\\nfrom the man s hand; he opened his eyes and mouth,\\nbut made no answer. He called over half a dozen\\nother names, until finally the excited oyster-man found\\nhis voice and leaned forward to look at him closely.\\nSir, said he solemnly, the men you are asking for\\nare all gone. Gone where? asked the stranger.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0349.jp2"}, "350": {"fulltext": "340\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nThey are all dead, replied the oyster-opener,\\nmost of them these many years. Why, where have\\nyou been that you didn t hear it? I have just ar-\\nrived from South Africa, and I have not been in New\\nYork for eighteen years. I hurried to get here to\\nmeet my old friends on Christmas Eve. And so they\\nare all dead. It makes a man feel lonely I think\\nI ll go back to South Africa. And so all the earth s\\nfriendships soon pass away. How precious is the\\nhope of the Christian that he is hastening to a land\\nwhere there shall be no more good-bys and heart-\\nbreaking separations!\\nGROWING OLD POETICALLY,\\nWilliam Roscoe Thayer has written out of his own\\nlife experience a little poem which would be the sal-\\nvation of many a young man if he would but take\\nhome to himself the hint it suggests\\nI walked with poets in my youth,\\nBecause the world they drew\\nWas beautiful and glorious\\nBeyond the world I knew.\\nThe poets are my comrades still,\\nBut dearer than in youth\\nFor now I know that they alone\\nPicture the world of truth.\\nTRAINING FOR GREAT DEEDS.\\nMany people make the blunder of delaying their\\ntraining for great deeds while still cherishing the\\nambition that they will some time fill a large sphere.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0350.jp2"}, "351": {"fulltext": "NEW-MINTED GOLD.\\n341\\nThey think when the time arrives they will rise to\\nthe emergency; but when their opportunity comes\\ntheir idle and useless life in humbler days has unfitted\\nthem to do the work of the larger place. James\\nKussell Lowell sings the theme with a vigor which\\nought to inspire young hearts to self -discipline. He\\nsays\\nIn life s small things be resolute and great,\\nTo keep thy muscle trained knowest thou when Fate\\nThy measure takes, or when she ll say to thee,\\n1 find thee worthy do this deed for me\\nNEW-MINTED GOLD.\\nTo-day! Now! These are the gold-mines, the\\nrichest within our reach. In neither memory nor an-\\nticipation should we spend other than the luxury of\\nleisure. Most of the time we should be dealing with\\nbrave hearts and industrious hands in the traffic of\\nto-day. Bliss Carmen sings this in some very sug-\\ngestive lines\\nWe are as mendicants who wait\\nAlong the roadside in the sun.\\nTatters of yesterday and shreds\\nOf morrow clothe us every one.\\nAnd some are dotards, who believe\\nAnd glory in the days of old\\nWhile some are dreamers, harping still\\nUpon an unknown age of gold.\\nHopeless or witless Not one heeds\\nAs lavish Time comes down the way\\nAnd tosses in the suppliant hat\\nOne great new-minted gold To-day.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0351.jp2"}, "352": {"fulltext": "342\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nGOD S POWER,\\nWhen John Quincy Adams was President of the\\nUnited States he was very much interested in having\\na channel cut at the mouth of the North River, be-\\ntween the towns of Scituate and Marshfield, on the\\nMassachusetts coast. The national Government at-\\ntempted to make a channel, but it was a failure. A\\nrecent great storm, however, has accomplished what\\nseemed impossible, and now there is a channel two\\nhundred and fifty feet wide and fifteen feet deep at\\nlow water, and it is being deepened at every ebb tide.\\nInside the channel there is a splendid harbor. All\\nthis wonderful work, which would have taken years\\nof costly labor to perform, was done in a few hours\\nby the waves, with no expense or damage to anybody.\\nThat same mighty power is ready to work together\\nwith the Christian Church whenever we surrender our-\\nselves completely to do the will of God. He whose\\npower can use the waves of the sea to cut a new chan-\\nnel through the rocks and the earth, can cut a chan-\\nnel for heavenly mercy into the hearts of lost sinners.\\nTHE HIDDEN LIFE,\\nWilliam C. Gannett, in his little poem entitled\\nThe Secret Place, sounds a sweet note that will be\\nfood to every truly spiritual nature\\nThe Lord is in his holy place,\\nIn all things near and far\\nShekinah of the snowflake he,\\nAnd glory of the star", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0352.jp2"}, "353": {"fulltext": "HUSBANDING ONE S RESOURCES. 343\\nAnd secret of the April land\\nThat stirs the field to flowers,\\nWhose little tabernacles rise\\nTo hold him through the hours.\\nHe hides himself within the love\\nOf those whom we love best\\nThe smiles and tones that make our homes\\nAre shrines by him possessed.\\nHe tents within the lonely heart,\\nAnd shepherds every thought,\\nWe find him not by seeking long\\nWe lose him not, unsought.\\nHUSBANDING ONE S RESOURCES.\\nWhen Colonel Roosevelt, who is near-sighted, went\\ninto battle, it is said that most of his luggage con-\\nsisted of spectacles. Anxious to do his best work,\\nand knowing his helplessness without his glasses, the\\nbrave leader of the Rough Eiders was determined not\\nto fail on that account. He carried a dozen pair\\nplanted around his person and equipment, trying to\\ndistribute them so no one accident could include them\\nall. One pair was sewed in his blouse, another in his\\nbelt, another in his hat, two in his saddle-bags, and\\nso on. At the fight at Guasimas his horse was slightly\\nwounded by a bullet, while held by an orderly, and\\nplunged frantically against a tree. Colonel Roosevelt\\ncame rushing up, all anxiety, and began prying under\\nthe saddle-flap. They haven t hurt the horse, sir,\\nsaid the orderly. I know, replied the Colonel,\\nwith tears in his voice, but they ve smashed my\\nspecs We have in that incident one of the great-", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0353.jp2"}, "354": {"fulltext": "344\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nest elements of the strength of that very remarkable\\nman. He cuts through to the center, and grasps the\\nthing that is most important for his effectiveness. To\\nbe victorious spiritual workers we need that character-\\nistic largely developed. We ought not to waste time\\ncaring for non-essentials, but we must take care of the\\narmor and the tools that make us efficient soldiers of\\nJesus Christ.\\nTHE CHRISTIAN GRACES.\\nMrs. Farningham has written a striking poem in\\nwhich she speaks of the Christian graces as personal\\ncompanions on the journey of life\\nWho treads the path with thee?\\nWe all may choose our friends\\nAs they are will the journey be,\\nAnd they will shape its ends.\\nTherefore let Faith lead on\\nFaith always knows the road\\nAnd sees how best the goal is won,\\nAnd how to ease the load.\\nTake Hope along the way\\nHope s feet are strong and swift,\\nHope s eyes are bright through darkest day,\\nHope will thy soul uplift.\\nBid Courage be thy friend\\nAnd make thee brave to dare\\nWhen weakness calls thee to defend,\\nAnd fear would prove a snare.\\nThy way let Goodness choose,\\nKeep Goodness in thy sight,\\nAll guides that aid her not refuse,\\nHers is the path of light.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0354.jp2"}, "355": {"fulltext": "ROSES IN WINTER.\\n345\\nLet Justice walk beside,\\nHe with sad brow and stern,\\nYet do not quail before that guide,\\nNor fear the truth to learn.\\nBut cl(u\u00c2\u00ab.e^ tr i y ~ieart\\nKee^ weetest, best\\nLove will remain tho all depart,\\nAnd Love will give thee rest.\\nYet know that in the Christ\\nAll these for thee must be\\nOh, keep with him thy faithful tryst,\\nAnd he will walk with thee.\\nROSES IN WINTER,\\nThe weather conditions which produced skating in\\nPortland, Ore., not long ago, were rather remark-\\nable. For many days the temperature remained al-\\nmost steadily a few degrees below freezing-point,\\ndays clear and sunshiny, and the nights a trifle colder.\\nThe continued low temperature at last froze still\\nwater, but without seriously damaging the rose-\\nbushes. Beautiful buds and half -blown roses were to\\nbe found in many gardens, so that it was possible for\\npeople going out skating to pluck roses to wear as\\nthey glided over the ice. That is always possible in\\na spiritual way. The Christian must endure trial\\nand hardship and wintry days like other people, but\\nhe never need be without the perfume and beauty of\\nthe roses of divine comfort to cheer him with the con-\\nsciousness that the Heart of the Universe is warm\\nwith mercy and love, and is brooding over him with\\na father s kindness.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0355.jp2"}, "356": {"fulltext": "346\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nHOW TO AWAKEN NOBILITY IN OTHERS,\\nJames Kussell Lowell declares that it is only by\\nbeing noble ourselves that we can have the power to\\nawaken nobility in the people whom we meet.\\nBe noble and the nobleness that lies\\nIn other men, sleeping but never dead,\\nWill rise in majesty to meet thine own\\nThen wilt thou see it gleam in many eyes,\\nThen will pure light around thy path be shed,\\nAnd thou wilt nevermore be sad and lone.\\nA PRICELESS JEWEL.\\nIt is rare to meet a person who does not confess to\\nthe fascination of precious stones. The charm of an\\nopal, for instance, seems more than the rainbow sus-\\npended in its hidden waters. There is a very inter-\\nesting classification of appropriate gems for each per-\\nson to wear. We are told that those born in J anuary\\nshould wear garnet, signifying friendship and fidel-\\nity February, amethyst, sincerity and peace March,\\nbloodstone, wisdom, courage, and firmness; April,\\ndiamond, innocence; May, emerald, beloved and\\nhappy; June, agate, health, wealth, and long life;\\nJuly, ruby, content; August, sardonyx, conjugal fe-\\nlicity; September, sapphire, sanity, peace, and ease\\nof mind October, opal, hope November, topaz,\\nfriendship and true love; December, turquoise, suc-\\ncess. There is a jewel not named in this list, but\\none which is far more precious than any of them.\\nIt is spoken of in the Book of Kevelation. Christ", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0356.jp2"}, "357": {"fulltext": "MERCY, PITY, PEACE, AND LOVE. 347\\nsays To him that overcometh will I give to eat of\\nthe hidden manna, and will give him a white stone,\\nand in the stone a new name written, which no man\\nknoweth saving he that receiveth it. That is the\\nmost precious jewel known to mankind, and it is\\nwithin the reach of the poorest man, or woman, or\\nchild on the earth.\\nMERCY, PITY, PEACE, AND LOVE.\\nA church stands for God in proportion as it exem-\\nplifies Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love. So sang\\nWilliam Blake\\nTo Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love\\nAll pray in their distress,\\nAnd to these virtues of delight\\nKeturn their thankfulness.\\nFor Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love\\nIs God, our Father dear\\nAnd Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love\\nIs man, his child and care.\\nFor Mercy has a human heart,\\nPity a human face,\\nAnd Love the human form divine,\\nAnd Peace the human dress.\\nThus every man in every clime,\\nThat prays in his distress,\\nPrays to the human form divine,\\nLove, Mercy, Pity, Peace.\\nAnd all must love the human form\\nIn heathen, Turk, or Jew\\nWhere Mercy, Love, and Pity dwell,\\nThere God is dwelling, too.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0357.jp2"}, "358": {"fulltext": "348\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nEASY TO GO DOWNHILL.\\nA recent traveler, in giving a description of his\\nclimbing Mount Popocatepetl, in Mexico, and visiting\\nits crater, says that they were able to return from the\\ntop of the mountain to the snow-line in fifteen min-\\nutes, covering a distance which had required them six\\nhours to ascend. One sees things like that often in\\ncommon life. A man struggles for years to build up\\na good reputation for honesty and integrity among his\\nfellow men, and then in an unguarded hour he takes\\na fatal toboggan-slide that hurls him in a single act\\nbelow where he began to climb twenty or thirty years\\nbefore. It is those who persevere unto the end who\\nwin the crown, and no one can afford to grow careless\\nor to cease to be watchful against temptation.\\nTHE LONGING FOR A WIDER CAREER.\\nCelia Thaxter, in her beautiful poem, Land-\\nLocked, sings of that longing which has made many\\na young heart ache the longing for a wider field and\\na fairer chance to exert oneself in the great world\\nBlack lie the hills, swiftly doth daylight flee\\nAnd, catching gleams of sunset s dying smile,\\nThrough the dusk land for many a changing mile\\nThe river runneth softly to the sea.\\nO happy river, could I follow thee\\nO yearning heart, that never can be still\\nO wistful eyes, that watch the stedfast hill,\\nLonging for level line of solemn sea", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0358.jp2"}, "359": {"fulltext": "POISONING THE BLOOD.\\n349\\nHave patience. Here are flowers and songs of birds,\\nBeauty and fragrance, wealth of sound and sight,\\nAll summer s glory thine from morn till night,\\nAnd life too full of joy for uttered words.\\nNeither am I ungrateful but I dream\\nDeliciously how twilight falls to-night\\nOver the glimmering water, how the light\\nDies blissfully away, until I seem\\nTo feel the wind, sea-scented, on my cheek,\\nTo catch the sound of dusky, flapping sail\\nAnd dip of oars and voices on the gale\\nAfar off, calling low. My name they speak.\\nO earth thy summer song of joy may soar,\\nRinging to heaven in triumph. I but crave\\nThe sad, caressing murmur of the wave\\nThat breaks in tender music on the shore.\\nPOISONING THE BLOOD.\\nA horrible story has been circulated about an Amer-\\nican soldier who was with a party of his comrades\\ndrinking in the saloons of Manila. They fell in with\\nsome of the natives, with whom this man had a quar-\\nrel and afterward, in order to get vengeance on him,\\nhe was drugged and the blood of a leper was inserted\\ninto his veins. After a while he awoke to the con-\\nsciousness that he was probably fated to die of that\\nterrible disease. The poison was already in this\\nman s blood when he sought his recreation and happi-\\nness in a liquor-saloon. If the poison had not been\\nin his moral nature, he would never have been in dan-\\nger of becoming inoculated with the leprosy. If a", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0359.jp2"}, "360": {"fulltext": "350\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nman did but know the awfulness of sin, he would fly\\nfrom it as readily as from a leper, and with as much\\nterror.\\nNAMELESS SAINTS,\\nPaul, in the eleventh chapter of Hebrews, says that\\nin addition to the names he mentions there are oth-\\ners, of whom the world was not worthy, that he had\\nno time to enumerate. Every age has these nameless\\nsaints whose lives are as brave and true as any that\\nare recorded. Edward Everett Hale sings of them\\nin strong lines\\nWhat were their names? I do not know their names.\\nI only know they heard God s voice, and came:\\nBrought all they loved across the sea,\\nTo live and work for God and me\\nFelled the ungracious oak\\nWith horrid toil\\nDragged from the soil\\nThe thrice-gnarled roots and stubborn rock\\nWith plenty filled the mountainside\\nAnd, when the work was done, without memorial died.\\nNo blaring trumpet sounded out their fame.\\nThey lived they died. I do not know their names.\\nNo form of bronze and no memorial stones\\nShow me the place where lie their moldering bones.\\nOnly a cheerful city stands,\\nBuilded by their hardened hands\\nOnly ten thousand homes\\nWhere every day\\nThe cheerful play\\nOf love and hope and courage comes.\\nThese are their monuments, and these alone.\\nThere is no form of bronze and no memorial stone.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0360.jp2"}, "361": {"fulltext": "EEASONS FOB SINGING. 351\\nTHE POOR MAN S CLUB.\\nThe wide discussion aroused by the unfortunate and\\nunwise remark of a certain distinguished clergyman\\nconcerning the saloon as a social necessity, and a nec-\\nessary club-room for working men, has brought out\\nsome very pertinent utterances. Among these, none\\nhave gone more surely to the point than those of\\nEditor William Brewer, of the Salvation Army, who\\naptly calls attention to the fact that the saloon is not\\nphilanthropic. It does not exist for the sake of pro-\\nviding social relaxation for the weary. Any associa-\\ntion it affords only serves its deadly purpose the more.\\nThe wife and children need not only social relaxation,\\nbut relaxation from disgrace and dishonor, abuse and\\npinching poverty, and from the more trying necessity\\nof wearing poor if not ragged clothes, and eating\\nhardened crusts, while the saloon-keeper s wife and\\nchildren revel in their purple and fine linen and fare\\nsumptuously every day.\\nREASONS FOR SINGING.\\nWilliam Partridge found in the market-place in Flor-\\nence, Italy, a caged lark, whose exulting song rebuked\\nthe watcher in that, with all the world for his own,\\nhe had so little melody to give back to God\\nA lark I found in a dark stall, alone,\\nFast in a cage his fettered wing could span\\nYet sang he as if the meadow were his own,\\nHis happy note all jarring sounds outran.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0361.jp2"}, "362": {"fulltext": "352\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nI could have bought the singer but the song,\\nThe heart behind the soug, ah who could buy?\\nShut in by bars and stared at by the throng,\\nHe still was true to his one bit of sky.\\nWhat a rich lesson from a lowly place\\nAnd in a tiny thing the Lord may hide\\nThe vault of heaven shines down upon my face\\nAnd I dare look it back, dissatisfied.\\nThe whole world for my own, I can not sing\\nAs this poor tiny bird, this prison thing.\\nUSEFUL SPIDER-WEBS,\\nAbout ten years ago a French missionary started\\nthe systematic rearing of two kinds of spiders for\\ntheir web, and The Board of Trade Journal states\\nthat a spider-web factory is now in successful opera-\\ntion, where spider-web ropes are made, intended for\\nballoons for the French military aeronautic section.\\nThe spiders are arranged in groups of twelve above a\\nreel, upon which the threads are wound. It is by no\\nmeans easy work for the spiders, for they are not re-\\nleased until they have furnished from thirty to forty\\nyards of thread each. The web is washed, and thus\\nfreed from the outer reddish and sticky cover. Eight\\nof the washed threads are then taken together, and\\nof this cords are woven which are stronger and much\\nlighter than cords of silk of the same thickness. It\\nis interesting surely to know that so delicate a thing\\nas the strand of a spider s web can be multiplied until\\nit becomes a strong rope that might be used to strangle\\na man to death. So sinful thoughts, shadowy and", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0362.jp2"}, "363": {"fulltext": "THE TEMPLE IN OUR BREASTS. 353\\nunreal at first, if indulged in may become the strong\\ncords of lust and bind a man to his utter undoing.\\nTHE TEMPLE IN OUR BREASTS.\\nHenry Van Dyke in a beautiful poem sublimely sets\\nforth our dependence upon the presence of G-od to\\nilluminate and glorify the temple of the soul\\nthou whose boundless love bestows\\nThe joys of life, the hope of heaven\\nThou whose unchartered mercy flows\\nO er all the blessings thou hast given\\nThou by whose light alone we see\\nThou by whose truth our souls, set free,\\nAre made imperishably strong\\nHear thou the solemn music of our song\\nGrant us the knowledge that we need\\nTo solve the questions of the mind\\nLight thou our candle while we read,\\nAnd keep our hearts from going blind\\nEnlarge our vision to behold\\nThe wonders thou hast wrought of old\\nEeveal thyself in every law,\\nAnd gild the towers of truth with holy awe\\nO God, make of us what thou wilt\\nGuide thou the labor of our hand\\nLet all our work be surely built\\nAs thou, the Architect, hast planned\\nBut whatsoe er thy power shall make\\nOf these frail lives, do not forsake\\nThy dwelling. Let thy presence rest\\nForever in the temple of our breast\\n23", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0363.jp2"}, "364": {"fulltext": "354\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nFAITHFUL SHEPHERD.\\nA Colorado shepherd tells this story of a dog which\\nis his efficient helper in taking care of a large flock of\\nsheep. On one occasion the dog was left to watch\\nthe flock near the herder s cabin while he got his sup-\\nper. After he had eaten he went out to where the\\nsheep were, and told the dog to put them in the cor-\\nral. This she refused to do and, altho she had had\\nno supper, she started off over the prairie as fast as\\nshe could go. The herder put the sheep in the corral\\nand went to bed. About midnight he was awakened\\nby the loud barking of a dog down by the corrals, and\\nto his astonishment found the dog with a band of\\nabout fifty sheep which had strayed off during the\\nprevious day without the herder s knowledge but the\\npoor dog knew it, and, tho hungry and tired, she had\\ngone seeking after them until she found them. The\\ndog did this out of fidelity to its master and a sense\\nof duty. How much more should we, who have\\nknown the love of Christ our Savior, keep watch over\\nthe feeble and weak and young of our community who\\nare wandering away and being lost from the flock.\\nSurely if a dog can do that much, we who have been\\nso greatly blessed can show fidelity and love in return\\nfor the great love wherewith He has loved us.\\nDIVINE DISCONTENT.\\nThere is a contentment which Paul speaks of,\\nwhich makes us submissive to God s will and is\\ngreatly to be desired but there is a divine kind of", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0364.jp2"}, "365": {"fulltext": "DRIFTING HULKS.\\n355\\ndiscontent which prompts us to rise in the scale of\\nbeing, ever onward and upward, which some unknown\\npoet has beautifully expressed in these lines\\nBe not content, contentment means inaction\\nThe growing soul aches on its upward quest\\nSatiety is twin to satisfaction\\nAll great achievements spring from life s unrest.\\nThe tiny roots, deep in the dark mold hiding,\\nWould never bless the earth with leaf and flower\\nWere not an inborn restlessness abiding\\nIn seed and germ to stir them with its power.\\nWere man contented with his lot forever,\\nHe had not sought strange seas with sails unfurled\\nAnd the vast wonder of our shores had never\\nDawned on the gaze of an admiring world.\\nPrize what is yours, but be not quite contented\\nThere is a healthful restlessness of soul\\nBy which a mighty purpose is augmented\\nIn urging men to reach a higher goal.\\nSo, when the restless impulse rises, driving\\nYour calm content before it, do not grieve\\nIt is the upward reaching and the striving\\nOf the God in you to achieve, achieve.\\nDRIFTING HULKS.\\nA proposition is before Congress to prohibit the\\nnavigation of the lower Mississippi River by vessels\\nwhich have no means of propulsion, and therefore can\\nnot control themselves, but drift down, at the mercy\\nof the current, in constant danger of collision with\\nthe steamboats. The trouble just at present is due\\nainly to the drifting coal-barges, which are turned", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0365.jp2"}, "366": {"fulltext": "356\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nloose in the river at the stream s mercy. These\\nbarges come down from Pittsburg, laden with coal,\\nbut under the control of a powerful tug. They land\\non the bank opposite some plantation, and the coal\\nthey contain is sold. The barges, being of no value\\nafterward, are turned loose, like worn-out horses, to\\ngo their own way. This, however, is extremely dan-\\ngerous, as they are powerful and heavy. They are\\nwithout control of any kind, carry no lights, and are\\na constant peril. There are moral hulks still more\\ndangerous which drift about on the stream of life\\nmen and women who were once loaded with a rich\\ncargo, and who were controlled and mastered by a\\nwise and loving hand, but who by their neglect and\\ntheir sins have lost their spiritual enginery, and, with-\\nout steam or cargo or lights, with no power to control\\nthemselves, they drift, dangerous hulks, putting peril\\nin the way of everybody they meet.\\nHELPING OURSELVES BY HELPING OTHERS.\\nHow beautifully Whittier sets forth the blessing of\\nhelpfulness in this couplet\\nHeaven s gate is shut to him who comes alone\\nSave thou a soul, and it shall save thine own.\\nTHE DEEP THAT COUCHETH BENEATH.\\nA town in North Dakota has for several years\\nboasted one of the finest flowing artesian wells in the\\nState. The water comes gushing out at high pressure\\nin a stream as large as a man s arm. The water has", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0366.jp2"}, "367": {"fulltext": "ADD UP THE BLESSINGS. 357\\nalways been known to be mixed with gas, but not un-\\ntil recently have they discovered a way of separating\\nthe gas from the water, so that the streets and resi-\\ndences will be lighted and heated from the same well\\nthat furnishes them with water. The great earth be-\\nneath is rich with treasures when we bore deep enough\\nto find them. Life is like that. People who live sim-\\nply on the surface find, as the years go on, that its\\nverdure will fade and its sweetest hopes wither. But\\nthose who dig deep into the purpose of life find that\\nGod s love coucheth beneath, and that they may\\ndraw on that without fear of exhausting the abundant\\nsupply.\\nADD UP THE BLESSINGS.\\nE. I. Tupper in his little poem, A Thankful\\nHeart, sets in array many of the common blessings\\nthat should awaken us to thanksgiving\\nFor all that God in mercy sends\\nFor health and children, home and friends\\nFor comforts in the time of need,\\nFor every kindly word or deed,\\nFor happy thoughts and holy talk,\\nFor guidance in our daily walk\\nIn everything give thanks\\nFor beauty in this world of ours,\\nFor verdant grass and lovely flowers,\\nFor song of birds, for hum of bees,\\nFor the refreshing summer breeze,\\nFor hill and plain, for streams and wood,\\nFor the great ocean s mighty flood\\nIn everything give thanks", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0367.jp2"}, "368": {"fulltext": "358\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nFor the sweet sleep which comes with night,\\nFor the returning morning light,\\nFor the bright sun that shines on high,\\nFor the stars glittering in the sky\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nFor these and everything we see,\\nO Lord our hearts we lift to thee\\nIn everything give thanks\\nOPENING THE PRISON DOORS.\\nIn Fort St. Philip, at Cavite, near Manila, the\\nAmericans found two typical dungeons of the dark\\nages. Each was in the wall, and was entered by a\\nnarrow passage just about large enough to crawl\\nthrough. It ended about six feet from the floor of\\nthe cell. Human bones were found in each of these\\ndungeons. The visitors shuddered as they passed the\\nplace of execution in one corner of this fort. The\\nculprit faced the wall and was fired at by a squad of\\nsoldiers. The wall was fairly peppered with hundreds\\nof holes made by bullets. Some of the holes were\\nrecently made, and the great number showed what a\\ncontemptible estimate Spain places on human life.\\nIf those mute walls could only tell all they have wit-\\nnessed in three centuries of Spanish cruelty, what a\\nhorrible tale they would unfold Surely it is the part\\nof a Christian nation to throw open those prison doors\\nforever. But when we think of the cruel bondage\\ncaused by drunkenness, which is encouraged by gov-\\nernment license of the liquor-saloon, it is easy to see\\nthat to be consistent we have many a dungeon door\\nto open in America dungeons where the bones of the", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0368.jp2"}, "369": {"fulltext": "ROYAL TENDERNESS.\\n359\\nvictims lie on the floor, and where the story of cru-\\nelty can not be outclassed in horror even by Spain.\\nLIFE S BEDTIME.\\nIt is beautiful to see white-haired men and women\\ncoming to old age in a sweet and happy spirit and\\nmeeting death with loving reverence like children\\nwho say their evening prayers with smiling faces.\\nOliver Wendell Holmes lived such a life and sings of\\nsuch an evening in these verses\\nNot bedtime yet The full-blown flower\\nOf all the year this evening hour\\nWith friendship s flame is bright\\nLife still is sweet, the heavens are fair,\\nTho fields are brown and woods are bare,\\nAnd many a joy is left to share\\nBefore we say Good-night\\nAnd when, our cheerful evening past,\\nThe nurse, long waiting, comes at last,\\nEre on her lap we lie\\nIn wearied nature s sweet repose,\\nAt peace with all her waking foes,\\nOur lips shall murmur, ere they close,\\nGood-night and not Good-by\\nROYAL TENDERNESS.\\nA very pretty story is told of the German Empress,\\nwhich occurred on her recent visit to Westphalia. In\\na village close to the imperial headquarters the\\nwidow of a captain in the merchant service occupies\\na small room. She is an invalid, bedridden, and very", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0369.jp2"}, "370": {"fulltext": "360\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nold but her one great wish was to see the Empress\\ndrive past the carpenter s cottage where she lies on\\nher little bed. Some kind soul had suggested to the\\nchamberlain of the Empress that it would be a great\\nkindness if the imperial carriage should be allowed to\\ndrive slowly when passing the invalid s window. The\\nrequest came to the ears of the Empress, and in her\\nkindness of heart she left her carriage, paid a long\\nvisit to the sick-room, and left the lonely sufferer in\\na state of happiness greater than words can tell.\\nThat was done in the spirit of Christ no other royal\\npersonage makes so many such visits as he. He\\ncomes to the house of the poor as readily as to the\\npalace of the rich. He brings heaven s best to earth s\\npoorest, and lifts the poor and the weak and the sin-\\nful up into fellowship with himself and his friends\\nforever.\\nTHE SEEKING CHRIST.\\nMrs. Farningham sings of that beautiful picture\\nwhich Jesus gives us of the Good Shepherd who leaves\\nthe ninety and nine in the fold and goes patiently\\nseeking through the night for the one lost sheep\\nThe wandering soul goes forth alone,\\nFarther from home with each dark night,\\nAnd hides him from the friendly light,\\nAnd only echoes back our moan.\\nBut One who loves goes after him,\\nO er trackless moor, and mountain slope,\\nNor ceases toil, nor loses hope,\\nTho miles are long and days are dim.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0370.jp2"}, "371": {"fulltext": "THE TEARS OF THE GREAT.\\n361\\nHe searches for him everywhere,\\nHe listens for the sigh of fear.\\nThe faintest cry will reach his ear,\\nThe boon will be before the prayer.\\nHe will not weary, day nor night,\\nEor any time, at any cost,\\nThe Christ will seek and save the lost,\\nAnd bring him home into the light.\\nStrong, patient, and enduring One\\nWe also seek, but soon we tire\\nHe, burning with intense desire,\\nWill cease not till the work be done.\\nUntil he find Until he find\\nSo full of strong resolve is he,\\nNo matter where the lost one be,\\nThe Christ will seek until he find.\\nO Seeker pitiful We have\\nOur lost ones, and we know not where\\nThey languish, nor if any prayer\\nBeseeches thee to help and save.\\nBut in thy heart, not theirs, we trust\\nThey are not lost, for thou wilt find\\nWe hear thy word, divinely kind,\\nI seek and save because I must\\nTHE TEARS OF THE GREAT.\\nMany of the great people who have written their\\nnames large in the history of their time have been\\nknown to shed tears. The majority, however, wept\\nfor others woes, but smiled upon their own. Queen\\nVictoria wept when informed that it was her destiny\\nto wear a crown and rule a vast empire. The inci-", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0371.jp2"}, "372": {"fulltext": "362\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\ndent was seized upon by Mrs. Browning for one of\\nher most beautiful poems, She Wept to Wear a\\nCrown, and her Majesty has always been a warm\\nadmirer of the writings of this poet. Sixty years\\nlater, at the jubilee, the Queen sobbed and shed tears\\nof thanksgiving before thousands of her subjects.\\nMr. Gladstone, during the delivery of one of his great\\norations concerning the Bulgarian atrocities, was so\\ncarried away by his feelings that tears coursed down\\nhis cheeks, and the flow of his eloquence was arrested\\nfor a few minutes, so that he might recover his com-\\nposure. But the most significant tears ever shed in\\nthis world were those which fell from the eyes of\\nJesus Christ when he looked over the wicked city of\\nJerusalem, that had rejected him, and was to crucify\\nhim, and said: 0 Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that\\nkillest the prophets and stonest them which are sent\\nunto thee, how often would I have gathered thy chil-\\ndren together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens\\nunder her wings, and ye would not\\nTHE WEEPING CHILDREN.\\nThese lines, written by Mrs. Browning to describe\\nthe cruelty to factory children more than a generation\\nago in England, may well be applied to-day to tens\\nof thousands of children whose young lives are\\nblighted by the drunkenness of their parents\\nDo ye hear the children weeping, my brothers,\\nEre the sorrow comes with years\\nThey are leaning their young heads against their mothers,\\nAnd that can not stop their tears.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0372.jp2"}, "373": {"fulltext": "THE ROCK OF AGES.\\n363\\nThe young lambs are bleating in the meadows\\nThe young birds are chirping in the nest\\nThe young fawns are playing with the shadows\\nThe young flowers are blowing toward the west\\nBut the young, young chi ldren, my brothers\\nThey are weeping bitterly.\\nThey are weeping in the playtime of the others,\\nIn the country of the free.\\nTHE ROCK OF AGES.\\nA trestle twenty-five feet high spanning a part of\\na swamp traversed by the Philadelphia, Beading\\nNew England Railroad, near Pine Plains, in Dutch-\\ness County, N. Y., has sunk completely out of sight\\nin a bog. In another part of the swamp a tele-\\ngraph pole alongside the track has completely disap-\\npeared. Sixty men are at work with construction and\\ngravel trains, piling one hundred and twenty cars of\\ngravel and stone a day upon the road bed, which up\\nto this writing sinks as fast as filled in. A piece of\\npipe used for soundings was driven one hundred and\\ntwenty feet into the bog and no bottom was found.\\nFarmers for miles around flock to the scene of this\\nphenomenon, and speculate upon the possibility of\\ntheir houses also sinking into the swamp-land. Hab-\\nits of dissipation, especially through the use of strong\\ndrink, are like this treacherous bog. Ever and anon\\nmen who have seemed solid and strong sink out of\\nsight of the business and social world, and the sur-\\nprising part of it is that many people who have\\nwatched them disappear go on risking their lives by\\nliving on the same treacherous bog. Only on the", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0373.jp2"}, "374": {"fulltext": "364\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nrock of righteousness and purity of life is there safety.\\nWe need to get hold of the intensity which Paul indi-\\ncates when he says to the Romans, Abhor that which\\nis evil; cleave to that which is good.\\nFINDING FAULT WITH PROVIDENCE.\\nJames Whitcomb Riley sings with keen discern-\\nment of the folly of finding fault with Providence\\nThe signs is bad when folks commence\\nA-findin fault with Providence,\\nAnd balkin cause the earth don t shake\\nAt every prancin step they take.\\nNo man is great till he can see\\nHow less than little he can be\\nEf, stripped to self, and stark and bare,\\nHe hung his sign out anywhere.\\nMy doctern is to lay aside\\nContentions, and be satisfied.\\nJest do your best, and praise er blame\\nThat follows, that counts jest the same.\\nI ve alius noticed great success\\nIs mixed with troubles more or less,\\nAnd it s the man who does the best\\nThat gets more kicks than all the rest.\\nTHE LIMITATIONS OF MONEY.\\nThere is living in a town in Pennsylvania a very\\nrich man, who is perhaps the only armless and legless\\nmillionaire on earth. His arms were amputated be-\\nlow the elbow and his legs below the knee twenty-two\\nyears ago. The afflicted man manages to walk with\\ndifficulty no two automatic legs made for him in Vi-", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0374.jp2"}, "375": {"fulltext": "CHRISTIAN COURAGE.\\n365\\nenna and fitted up with ingenious mechanism that\\nmaterially aids his locomotion. He also has two me-\\nchanical forearms, the hands of which enable him to\\nhold a handkerchief or a newspaper, and to pick up\\narticles from the table. These four artificial limbs\\ncost him $25,000, and are perhaps the most perfect\\nof their kind in the world. Yet how gladly this man\\nwould give hundreds of thousands of dollars if he\\ncould have again the perfect body with which he was\\nborn. There are many things money will not buy,\\nand many people who have perfect bodies and the\\ncomplete use of all their senses and faculties fail to\\nrealize the supreme wealth thus conferred upon them.\\nBEING IN OURSELVES WHAT WE DESIRE IN\\nOTHERS.\\nLet us cultivate in ourselves what we long for in\\nour friends sweetness of character, evenness of tem-\\nper, confidence, loyalty, patience, sympathy, and love.\\nAnna L. Waring prays\\nI ask Thee for a thoughtful love,\\nThrough constant watching wise,\\nTo meet the glad with joyful smiles,\\nAnd wipe the weeping eyes\\nA heart at leisure from itself,\\nTo soothe and sympathize.\\nCHRISTIAN COURAGE,\\nWriting from one of the hospitals at the front with\\nthe volunteers, one of the Christian workers said:\\nOur hospital work is becoming tremendous. Ty-", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0375.jp2"}, "376": {"fulltext": "366\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nphoid fever is the trouble in a majority of cases.\\nYesterday, as I was leaving one ward, I turned and\\nsaid to the sick men: Well, boys, keep up good\\ncourage. One poor fellow, who was almost crying,\\nsaid: You keep up your courage. Do not forsake\\nus. I doubt not there are many people who are\\nnot Christians who yet long in their hearts that the\\nChristians who are interested in their salvation shall\\nnot grow weary and give up the struggle in their be-\\nhalf. Let us have the courage of our divine Leader.\\nTHE SABBATH SUNSHINE.\\nNo one can estimate how much blessing, aside from\\nthe direct religious teaching, the Sabbath is to^the\\nworld in the good cheer it brings to millions of homes\\nThe Sabbath sunshine blessed the earth to-day\\nWith large, still utterance of a thought divine\\nForever freely thus it seemed to say\\nDoth heavenly love on human darkness shine.\\nOh, bright beyond all suns that wondrous light of thine\\nTo-night the Sabbath moonlight, with white wings,\\nDove-like, doth brood o er earth s dark, fevered breast\\nSo God s great calm its gift of healing brings\\nTo souls long tossed in sorrowful unrest,\\nAnd leaves therein the peace that can not be expressed.\\nINSPIRING ONE ANOTHER.\\nDuring the battle of Manila the band of a British\\nman-of-war nearby played The Star-Spangled Ban-\\nner. One can imagine how it must have warmed the\\nhearts of the brave sailors on our ships when they", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0376.jp2"}, "377": {"fulltext": "HOLDING ON TO FAITH.\\n367\\nheard those strains rising from the British vessel.\\nThey felt that friendly hearts were beating behind\\nthe music hearts that would prove true allies if they\\nwere needed. Every Christian soldier should make\\nevery other Christian within the reach of his influ-\\nence, no matter what denominational flag he may\\nfight under, feel the touch of his sympathetic brother-\\nhood. Thus may we inspire one another to grander\\ndeeds.\\nTHE PATRIOT S PRAYER.\\nEvery true American patriot can join in Whittier s\\nprayer\\nmake thou us, through centuries long,\\nIn peace secure, in justice strong\\nAround our gift of freedom draw\\nThe safeguards of thy righteous law\\nAnd, cast in some diviner mold,\\nLet the new cycle shame the old.\\nHOLDING ON TO FAITH.\\nA workman repairing the roof of one of the highest\\nbuildings in Dublin lost his footing and fell. Stri-\\nking a telegraph-line in his fall, he managed to grasp\\nit. Hang on for your life shouted a fellow work-\\nman. Some of the spectators rushed off to get a mat-\\ntress on which he could drop. But the workman,\\nafter holding on for a few seconds longer, suddenly\\ncried out, Stand from under dropped, and lay\\nsenseless in the street. He was brought to the hos-\\npital, and on becoming conscious was asked why he", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0377.jp2"}, "378": {"fulltext": "368\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\ndid not hang on longer. Shure, I was afraid the\\nwire wud break, he feebly replied. In his panic he\\ndid not remember that he would be no worse off if it\\ndid break than he would be to let go. Many people let\\ngo their faith in Christ in the same way. The devil\\nfills them with fears that their Christian faith will not\\nsustain them, and so, letting loose, they fall into the\\ndepths of the horrible pit, when if they would only\\nhold on they would find that the divine word never\\nfails.\\nFINDING A FRIEND,\\nHow true are these strong lines on the blessedness\\nof friendship\\nHe who has found a new star in the sky\\nIs not so fortunate as one who finds\\nA true, deep-hearted friend\\nThe stars must die,\\nThey are but creatures\\nOf the sun and winds\\nBut friendship throws her first sheet-anchor deep\\nBeside the shore-lines of eternity.\\nOBEDIENCE BETTER THAN SUCCESS.\\nThe agent of a powerful and wealthy business house\\nsaw an opportunity by which he felt sure he could\\nmake an enormous profit for the firm, but in order to\\ndo so he would be compelled to disobey the explicit\\ninstructions which had been given him. He dis-\\nobeyed his orders and carried through a very success-\\nful deal, by which his employers won large profits.\\nIf he had obeyed his orders he would have lost.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0378.jp2"}, "379": {"fulltext": "THE CHANGING SONG.\\n369\\nContrary to his expectations, instead of being com-\\nmended for his shrewdness he was promptly dis-\\ncharged from their employment. That business firm\\nacted wisely. They could not trust an employee who\\nwould not obey orders. Next time he disobeyed he\\nmight have lost heavily. God does not demand of\\nus success, but obedience; it is for us to keep his\\ncommandments, and he will take care of the results.\\nTHE CHANGING SONG.\\nKate R. Stiles expresses, very strongly the thought\\nthat while the song of middle age and later years will\\nnot be the same as in youth, and while we can not\\nalways sing in the major strain, we may still have\\nmelody in our souls and a song for every experience\\nof life:\\nDon t let the song go out of your life\\nTho it chance sometimes to flow\\nIn a minor strain, it will blend again\\nWith the major tone, you know.\\nWhat tho shadows rise to obscure life s skies\\nAnd hide for a time the sun\\nThey sooner will lift, and reveal the rift,\\nIf you let the melody run.\\nDon t let the song go out of your life\\nTho your voice may have lost its trill,\\nTho the tremulous notes should die in the throat,\\nLet it sing in your spirit still.\\nThere is never a pain that hides not some gain,\\nAnd never a cup of rue\\nSo bitter to sup but what in the cup\\nLurks a measure of sweetness, too.\\n24", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0379.jp2"}, "380": {"fulltext": "370\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nDon t let the song go out of your life\\nAh it never would need to go\\nIf with thought more true and a broader view\\nWe looked at this life below.\\nOh, why should we moan that life s springtime has flown,\\nOr sigh for the fair summer-time\\nThe autumn hath days filled with paeans of praise,\\nAnd the winter hath bells that chime.\\nDon t let the song go out of your life\\nLet it ring in the soul while here,\\nAnd when you go hence it shall follow you thence,\\nAnd sing on in another sphere.\\nThen do not despond, and say that the fond,\\nSweet songs of your life have flown\\nFor if ever you knew a song that was true,\\nIts music is still your own.\\nSIN S VAGABONDS,\\nIn the forests of Galicia, the peasants have just\\ncaptured a wild man who for years has been the ter-\\nror of the district. Travelers in numerous instances\\nhad been attacked by him, and he was accustomed to\\nplunder the cottages of the peasantry for food. By\\nthose who to their sorrow had seen the man he was\\ndescribed as a monster, unkempt, and covered with\\nhair from head to foot. Finally a hunting party was\\norganized, and the wild man was captured after des-\\nperate resistance. His appearance quite bore out the\\nworst of the descriptions. After he had been washed,\\nshaved, and clothed, he was identified as a man who\\nhad once held high public office in Austria. He had\\nmoved in the highest circles, but finally embezzled a", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0380.jp2"}, "381": {"fulltext": "GOD S FORBEARANCE.\\n371\\nlarge sum of money. To escape pursuit lie took ref-\\nuge in the forest, and his fear of detection made him\\na vagabond, and gradually he was transformed into\\na savage. Sin makes vagabonds of many victims.\\nIt has been doing it ever since the days of Cain yet\\nChrist is able to forgive and save even these. The\\npoor man whom he found in Gadara must have been\\nas bad as this poor man of the forest, but Christ\\ndrove the evil spirits from him, and he was soon\\nclothed and in his right mind.\\nGOD S FORBEARANCE.\\nThe patience of God, his great kindness in watch-\\ning over his children for good, comes out beautifully\\nin Mrs. Farningham/s little poem, A Story of a\\nTree\\nIt stood in the open, a shapely tree,\\nSymmetrical, strong, and grand\\nNature gave it ungrudgingly\\nFull space, fresh air, rich land\\nBranches of graceful curves it bore,\\nAnd of leaves a laughing host\\nIt was the king of the forest trees,\\nAnd the village love and boast.\\nBut the hand of adversity touched the tree,\\nAnd its springs of life were low,\\nYet it held its head erect in the breeze,\\nAnd it made a brave, bright show.\\nA little longer it kept its leaves,\\nBut they faded one by one,\\nAnd the bare tree sighed for departed joys,\\nFor its work for the year was done.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0381.jp2"}, "382": {"fulltext": "372\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nSaid a child, The poor old tree is dead,\\nIt has not a leaf to show\\nIt is no more use to the bees and birds,\\nIt is killed by the frost and snow\\nIt is nothing now but a bunch of wood,\\nWithered and gray and brown\\nIt ought to make room for a younger tree\\nLet the woodman cut it down.\\nBut the heart of the tree was beating yet,\\nAnd its head was clear and strong.\\nAh the woodman knows me well, it said,\\nAnd he does his trees no wrong.\\nI am to rest for a little while,\\nWith blessings of sun and rain,\\nBut I shall be crowned with my beautiful leaves\\nWhen the springtime comes again.\\nTHE ARMY OF PEACE.\\nThe standing army of Eussia is usually put at\\n800,000 men; of Germany, at 600,000; of Austria,\\nat 275,000; and of Great Britain, at 225,000. Yet\\nthere are, it appears by the last published report of the\\nInterstate Commerce Commission, 830,000 railroad\\nemployees in the United States. At the present ratio\\nof increase there are now 50,000 more railroad em-\\nployees in the United States than there were in 1895,\\nwhich would bring the total up to nearly 900,000.\\nHere is an army in which there is no mustering out\\nand no war footing; for the railroad army of the\\nUnited States, larger than the number of railroad\\nemployees of any other country, is essentially an\\narmy of peace. But there is another army of peace\\ngreater than that. It is composed of the men and", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0382.jp2"}, "383": {"fulltext": "TIMBER ON CHRIST S CARPENTER BENCH. 373\\nwomen who have sworn to be good soldiers of Jesus\\nChrist. Every such soldier should hold himself in\\nperfect obedience to the Captain of his salvation, and\\nin perfect fellowship with every other soldier in the\\narmy of the Lord, no matter what the denominational\\ndivision in which he may be serving.\\nTIMBER ON CHRIST S CARPENTER BENCH.\\nGeorge Macdonald, the poet-novelist, has written\\na very striking little poem, entitled At Joseph s\\nBench, in which he brings out strongly the thought\\nthat we should hold ourselves at the Master s dis-\\nposal, to be wrought into something good and great\\nby his skilful hands\\nLord at Joseph s humble bench\\nThy hands did handle, saw, and plane\\nThy hammer nails did drive and clench,\\nAvoiding knot, and humoring grain.\\nThat thou didst seem thou wast indeed\\nIn sport thy tools thou didst not use,\\nNor helping hinds nor fishers need,\\nNor laborer s hire, too nice, refuse.\\nLord, might I be but as a saw,\\nA plane, a chisel, in thy hand\\nNo, Lord I take it back in awe\\nSuch prayer for me is far too grand.\\n1 pray, O Master let me lie\\nAs on thy bench the favored wood\\nThy saw, thy plane, thy chisel ply,\\nAnd work me into something good.\\nNo, no ambition, holy-high,\\nUrges for more than both to pray\\nCome in, gracious Force I cry\\nO Workman, share my shed of clay", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0383.jp2"}, "384": {"fulltext": "374\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nThen I, at bench, or desk, or oar,\\nWith last or needle, net or pen,\\nAs thou in Nazareth of yore,\\nShall do the Father s will again.\\nFAMILY RELIGION.\\nIn a recent shipwreck at sea, among those who were\\nin immediate danger was a family consisting of father\\nand mother and two children. The father jumped\\ninto a life-boat, and the mother threw the children one\\nafter the other into the father s waiting arms, and\\nthen leaped into the boat herself, and thus the whole\\nfamily were saved. How many families there are\\nwho might be saved from sin and from the danger of\\neternal shipwreck in the same way. When the father\\ntakes to the life-boat it is easy for the mother to turn\\nthe children that way and to follow them herself.\\nBRING YOUR FLOWERS NOW.\\nMr. E. F. Hodges has written a poem bringing out\\nclearly the importance of saying our kind words of\\nappreciation and stretching out the hand of helpful\\nlove now, while they our friends are alive and we can\\ndo them good, rather than to wait until death has\\ntaken them beyond our reach of blessing\\nKisses which fall upon the dead s mute lips,\\nLike dew on roses which the first frost nips,\\nCome all too late\\nTis better far to give them while the lips can speak\\nThe golden cord of life at best is weak\\nAh do not wait.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0384.jp2"}, "385": {"fulltext": "ABUNDANT RESOURCES. 375\\nKind words in ears whose earthly powers are spent,\\nLike sunshine on the tree by lightning rent,\\nCan give no balm\\nTis better far to give them while those ears can hear;\\nFor life has much of wo and much of fear\\nAnd Love brings calm.\\nIt is too late, when life s lamp burneth low,\\nWhen hands once warm are chill as winter s snow,\\nTo do kind deeds\\nTis better here where feet are prone to slide,\\nTis better now than wait till eventide,\\nTo help their needs.\\nAh, friends dear friends, if any such there be,\\nKeep not your loving thoughts away from me\\nTill I am gone\\nI want them now to help me on my way,\\nAs lonely watchers want the light of day\\nEre it is morn.\\nAnd tho sometimes my heart, o er some sore wrong\\nLong brooding, weaves some bitterness in song,\\nTis but a shade\\nWithin life s textures where the best are poor.\\nOh, close not up to many faults Love s door\\nI need your aid.\\nABUNDANT RESOURCES.\\nIn connection with the Pacific cable a very interest-\\ning question arises. From where is the gutta-percha\\nfor this gigantic cable to come? Every whisper of\\nthe construction of a new line of cable sends the\\ngutta-percha market at Singapore, India, up by leaps\\nand bounds. The ruling price of the gum is the high-", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0385.jp2"}, "386": {"fulltext": "376\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nest at present that has ever obtained. It is claimed\\nthat there is not a large enough supply of gutta-per-\\ncha left in the world to build a cable from San Fran-\\ncisco to Manila. If that is so, we may be sure that\\nsomething else will be found to take its place. God s\\nstorehouses have never given out yet, and they will\\nnot now. When the whales began to run short, the\\npessimist said that the world would soon be in dark-\\nness for lack of oil. But coal oil took its place and\\nnow that coal-oil wells are beginning to give way and\\nshow signs of emptying, electricity is rapidly taking\\nits place. This abundance in the natural world is\\nonly a suggestion of the abundant resources of God in\\nthe spiritual realm. Paul declares that these spiri-\\ntual riches are unsearchable, and that they are abun-\\ndant to supply all our needs.\\nMOPE OR HOPE.\\nPriscilla Leonard, in a little poem entitled The\\nTwo Sides of It, brings out in very strong contrast\\ntwo lives, one of which, viewing the dark side of every-\\nthing, went moping along the path, and the other,\\nseeing the bright side, was ever hoping\\nThere was a girl who always said\\nHer fate was very hard\\nFrom the one thing she wanted most\\nShe always was debarred.\\nThere always was a cloudy spot\\nSomewhere within her sky\\nNothing was ever just quite right,\\nShe used to say, and sigh.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0386.jp2"}, "387": {"fulltext": "POWER OF SELF- CONCENTRATION. 377\\nAnd yet her sister, strange to say,\\nWhose lot was quite the same,\\nFound something pleasant for herself\\nIn every day that came.\\nOf course things tangled up sometimes\\nFor just a little while\\nBut nothing ever stayed all wrong\\nShe used to say, and smile.\\nSo one girl sighed and one girl smiled\\nThrough all their lives together\\nIt didn t come from luck or fate,\\nFrom clear or cloudy weather.\\nThe reason lay within their hearts,\\nAnd colored all outside\\nOne chose to hope, and one to mope,\\nAnd so they smiled and sighed.\\nPOWER OF SELF-CONCENTRATION.\\nA friend of the late Dr. William Pepper, of Phila-\\ndelphia, tells how lie could go to sleep at will.\\nWill you please excuse me, Mrs. he would\\nsay sometimes. I could talk to you much more sat-\\nisfactorily if I had a few minutes nap. Jane, make\\nMrs. comfortable, and wake me in about ten\\nminutes. Outside, the office would be crowded with\\npeople waiting to see him about the Philadelphia\\nmuseums, about the University of Pennsylvania, the\\nPublic Library, or about their health but he would\\ngo into his own room behind the office, would stretch\\nout on the lounge, throw a rug over his knees, and,\\nclosing his eyes, would be asleep at once. Ten min-\\nutes later he would be roused by his servant and\\nwould at once resume his conversation with the pa-", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0387.jp2"}, "388": {"fulltext": "378\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\ntient at the point at which it had been dropped. But\\nhe would show great clearness of mind from the brief\\nrecreation of his strength. If Christians would bring\\nthemselves under such complete spiritual discipline\\nthat they could in the midst of the taxing trials of\\ndaily life retreat occasionally for a few moments of\\nquiet worship, how clarified the spiritual vision would\\nbe in coming back to their work In no place is the\\npower of self-concentration more keenly needed than\\nin seeking to maintain the atmosphere of the spirit\\nwhile dealing with the things of the flesh.\\nGOD KNOWS AND CARES.\\nGod s care over the small and humble things of life\\nis brought out very comfortingly in these sweet lines\\nMen send their ships, the eager things,\\nTo try their luck at sea\\nBut uone can tell by note or count\\nHow many there may be.\\nOne turneth east, another south,\\nThey never come again\\nAnd then we know they must have sunk,\\nBut neither how nor when.\\nGod sends his happy birds abroad\\nThey re less than ships, say we\\nNo moment passes but he knows\\nHow many there should be.\\nOne buildeth high, another low,\\nWith just a bird s light care;\\nIf only one, perchance, doth fall,\\nGod knoweth when and where.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0388.jp2"}, "389": {"fulltext": "ONLY A DAY S MARCH INTO TIME. 379\\nCITY BEEHIVES.\\nThere is a beehive perched upon a broad window-sill\\nhigh above a city square, not far from Independence\\nHall in Philadelphia. The bees regard the square\\njust across the way from their window as their private\\npark, a happy hunting-ground planted in their inter-\\nest. In early spring there are the heavy-laden blos-\\nsoms of the trees, horse-chestnut flowers and the\\nlike, brimming with honey, pollen, and other good\\nthings. Some of the ornamental shrubs and trees\\nblossom well into the summer. Then there are the\\nflower-beds. Hyacinth follows crocus, and chrysan-\\nthemum follows rose. And until the cold winds of\\nfall close down the bees industry altogether, there is\\nalways some delicious trifle, some cool, deep cup, from\\nwhich to sip honey. A city church ought to be like\\nthat. The heart of the town where the most people\\nare ought to be well furnished with hives of Christian\\nworkers who see in every man and woman, in every\\nboy and girl, the honey of the immortal life for which\\nthey are seeking in the name of Jesus Christ. Some\\nvery dilapidated human blossoms have rich honey at\\nthe heart that rewards the patient and persevering\\nworker.\\nONLY A DAY S MARCH INTO TIME.\\nIf we take care of the pennies, the dollars will be\\nall right. Many people get discouraged because they\\ntake too long views, covering too many difficulties of\\nlife at a time. God mercifully gives us only one day", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0389.jp2"}, "390": {"fulltext": "380\\nPOETRY AND MORALS.\\nat a time for toil and struggle. If we look well after\\nthe days, the year s record will be all right. Maud\\nEussell writes some very helpful little verses illumi-\\nnating this thought\\nAre you watching for the Master\\nDay by day\\nAs each golden morn is breaking\\nDoes the thought your spirit cheer\\nMaybe e er the day is over\\nHe ll appear\\nAre you walking with your Master\\nDay by day\\nSimply walking on with Jesus,\\nTrusting him for one step more\\nThankful that he veils the future\\nYet in store\\nA FAR-SIGHTED TELESCOPE,\\nWhen the idea was first mooted, more than a year\\nago, of constructing a telescope powerful enough to\\nallow the moon to be viewed from what would seem\\nto be close at hand, no little amusement was caused\\nin Paris. However, it is now announced that the\\nscheme is to be largely realized. The image of the\\nmoon on which the visitors to the Exposition will be\\nable to gaze will appear to be distant only about sixty\\nmiles. The telescope which is to attain this result,\\nwhich will far outstrip all that has been previously\\nachieved, is in course of construction. By its aid it\\nwill be possible to take photographs of the surface of\\nthe moon on a scale ten thousand times larger than\\nany heretofore obtained. The telescope of faith,", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0390.jp2"}, "391": {"fulltext": "A FAB-SIGHTED TELESCOPE. 381\\nhowever, is far more magnificent than that. By it\\nAbraham caught sight of a city which hath founda-\\ntions, whose builder and maker is God. And multi-\\ntudes there are to-day who, like him, are happy and\\ncontent, tho pilgrims, because through the lens of\\nfaith they behold with joy their certain reward.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0391.jp2"}, "392": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0392.jp2"}, "393": {"fulltext": "TOPICAL INDEX\\nPAGE\\nAberdeen, Earl of, Story of 235\\nAboville, Baron d Steel Shoul-\\nder of 304\\nAbundant Resources 375, 376\\nAchievement, Longing the\\nStepping-stone to 324, 325\\nAction, Rest in 207\\nAdd Up the Blessings 357\\nAdder, The Drink 59, 60\\nAffliction, Consolation in, 158,\\n164, 165\\nAfterward of Sorrow, The,\\npoem by P. Morrison, quoted\\n266, 267\\nAge of Light, The 247, 248\\nChristian Old 37\\nAged Christian s Vantage-\\nground, An 233\\nAges, The Rock of 363\\nAgnosticism, Barrenness of 229\\nAlert Eye, Value of 279\\nAll in All 184\\nAlliances, Secret 331\\nAll-seeing Christ, The 67\\nAltered Motto, The, T. Mo-\\nnod s poem, quoted 125\\nAlway, George, quotation\\nfrom 221\\nAmbition of a Human Animal,\\nThe 185, 186\\nAnchor, A Sure 292\\nAncient Mariner, 11 Cole-\\nridge s, quoted 67\\nAngel of Light, S tan Some-\\ntimes 93\\non the Stone, The 164, 165\\nAngelic Messengers 171\\nAngels, God s, Disguises of 168\\nAnnoyancesof Wealth, The, 11, 12\\nAnxiety Contagious 234\\nApaches and the Paymaster s\\nSafe 299, 300\\nApologue of Standing Armies,\\nAn 119\\nAppearances Deceptive 192, 193\\nAppreciating Values 159, 160\\nAppreciation, Wealth in... 262, 263\\nArbutus, The Heavenly, a Sug-\\ngestion of Resurrection Life, 146\\nPAGE\\nArchers A Mark for the 72, 73\\nArmies, An Apologue of Stand-\\ning 119\\nArmy of Peace, The 372\\nArnold, Matthew, quotations\\nfrom 75, 245\\nArrows of Evil, The Flying. 73\\nArtesian Well in Dakota 356\\nAssociations. Dangerous 196\\nPower of Early 239\\nAt Life s Wheel 43, 44\\nAt Our Best 101\\nAt the Door, poem by Eu-\\ngene Field, quoted 297\\nAt the End of his Rope 8, 9\\nAtmosphere of Life, The Im-\\nportance of the 284\\nSpiritual 20, 21\\nThe Worldly 100\\nAttraction, The Heavenly, 314-316\\nof Love, The 201\\nAugmenters of Spiritual Em-\\npire 243\\nAustin, Annie M., quotation\\nfrom 149, 150\\nAutumn Pictures 14, 15\\nAutumn, To, quotation\\nfrom Keats s 14, 15\\nAverage Man, The 109\\nAwards, Righteous 59\\nAzeglio, Massimo d 63\\nBaby, Characteristics of a 184\\nBacon, Rev. H. D., quotation\\nfrom 317\\nBacteria of Rum 120\\nBarr, Amelia, quotations\\nfrom 158, 242\\nBarriers, Artificial, Breaking\\nDown 230\\nBeard, Helen, quotation from, 188\\nBearing Up under Trials 60\\nBears and the Maple Sap 76\\nBeauty its Own Excuse 136\\nBeaver-dams. Missionaries and 95\\nBedtime, Life s 359\\nBeehives, City 379\\nBeggar, A Proud 50, 51\\nRich, but a 290", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0393.jp2"}, "394": {"fulltext": "Poetry and Morals\\nPAGE\\nBeggars Spirit, The 290\\nBehold, I stand at the door\\nand knock, Commentary on 111\\nBeing in Ourselves What We\\nDesire in Others.. 365\\nBeira, East Africa, A City of\\nZinc. 11 165\\nBertand, Mr.,and.his Son, Story\\nof 96, 97\\nBest Wine Last, The 189\\nBetter to Us than We De-\\nserve ..41, 42\\nBeware of Little Sins 93, 94\\nBible for Students of English,\\nThe 319, 320\\nGiven to One Perplexed. 107\\nin the Home, The 115\\nLi Hung Chang and the. 105\\nThe Power of the 106\\nBigelow, Lettie, quotation\\nfrom 144\\nBirds, Training, to Sing 167\\nBlake, William, quotation\\nfrom 347\\nBlessing, Duty and 18, 19\\nFear and 156\\nof Friends, The 294\\nBlessings, Add up the 357\\nof Sorrow The 266, 267\\nof Unselfishness, The 94\\nThanksgiving for Spiritual, 122\\nBlind, Eyes to the 62\\nBlinding Power of Sin, The. 116\\nthe Eyes of the Soul 116\\nBlood, Poisoning the 349\\nBlood-poisoning 148, 149\\nBlue, Lieut. Victor 329\\nBoers, Treachery of 219\\nBog in Dutchess Co., N. Y. 363\\nBohlvns, Jan von, quotation\\nfrom 326\\nBolton, Sarah K., quotations\\nfrom 64, 185\\nBonar, hymn writer, quota-\\ntion from. 72\\nBooks, Dangers Lurking in\\nMany Modern 174\\nThe Restf ulness of Great, 35, 36\\nUse of 203\\nBookworms 173, 174\\nBorrowing Trouble 109, 110\\nBradt, Edith, quotation from, 193\\nBragdon, Prof. A. A., quota\\ntion from 243, 244\\nBrahman s Test, The 130\\nBrave Boyhood 133, 134\\nBread. Christ the Living 32\\nFound in Tomb of Mentu-\\nhopet 31, 32\\nPAGE\\nBread of Life, The, 1 poem\\nby J. S. Browning, quoted. 248\\nBreaking Down Barriers 230\\nBrewer, William, on Saloons.. 351\\nBright is the Ring of Words,\\nR. L. Stevenson s poem,\\nquoted 186\\nBring your Flowers Now. .374, 375\\nBronson, Clara W., quotation\\nfrom 101\\nBrooklyn, The Cruiser 109\\nBroom-corn, Introduction of,\\ninto United States 279\\nBrotherhood, Power of. .127, 128\\nTransforming Charity 141\\nBrowning, E. B., quotations\\nfrom.... 86, 140, 319, 321, 362\\nJohn S. quotation from.. 248\\nRobert, quotations from,\\n12, 55, 74, 85, 261\\nBrutality the Same in Rich and\\nPoor 48, 49\\nBuckham, James, quotation\\nfrom 285\\nBuffing-wheel, The 78, 79\\nBuilt on the Sand 251, 252\\nBullfinch, Queen Catharine and\\nthe 212, 213\\nBurr, Aaron, Story of 206\\nBusiness Men, Oppression of, 325\\nButler. Lady, the Artist 182\\nButterflies, The Swarm of, 142, 143\\nByron, Lord, quotation from, 78\\nCaches, Wayside 87, 88\\nCall for Earnestness, A 261\\nof God, The 27\\nCampbell, Wilford, quotation\\nfrom 153\\nCanaries, the Diplomat and\\nthe 89, 90\\nCanton, William, quotation\\nfrom 164\\nCanute, poem by Words-\\nworth, quoted 167\\nCare, God s, Over Humble\\nThings of Life 378\\nCareer, The Longing for a\\nWider 348, 349\\nCarelessness, Evils of 236, 237\\nCarmen, Bliss, quotation from, 341\\nCarpenter, Christ, The 174\\nCarranza, Lieut., Spanish Na-\\nval Attache 333\\nCarrier-pigeons in China 92\\nCars, Brooklyn Trolley 138\\nCary, Alice, quotation from 107\\nCatharine.Queen, Story of, 212, 213\\nCause, Value of a Just 217", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0394.jp2"}, "395": {"fulltext": "Topical Index\\n385\\nPAGE\\nCayo Romano, Salt Industry\\nof 61\\nCervera s Fleet, Destruction of, 109\\nChaillu, Paul du, the Traveler, 183\\nChanging Song, The 369\\nCharacter and Life, Relation\\nbetween 85\\nBlemishes of 268\\nEasily Destroyed 237, 238\\nin Service, Christian 82\\nInsidious Transformation\\nof 55\\nPositive 18\\nPriceless Jewels of, Lost\\n293, 294\\nSweating 129\\nTattooing of 40\\nthat Counts 5\\nThe Growth of 104\\nThe Impregnable 299, 300\\nturned Black 54, 55\\nCharity, Brotherhood Trans-\\nforming 141\\nReason for 191, 192\\nCheerfulness, Memory and 114\\nPerseverance and 101, 102\\nSin the Assassin of 117\\nCheesebro, Story of the Con-\\nvict 110\\nCheney, John Vance, quota-\\ntion from 252\\nChildren, Cruelty to Factory, 362\\nGod s Care for 205, 206\\nThe Mother s Hour with. 274\\nThe Weeping 362, 363\\nChild s Thought of God, A, 1\\npoem by Mrs. Browning,\\nquoted 319\\nChoosing Darkness 70, 71\\nChrist and Failure 175, 176\\nAdvantages of following, 272\\nat the Door 195, 196\\nBrings Men Close to God 235\\nIndorsing our Brother s\\nClaim 136, 137\\nLoves You 278, 279\\nMore than a Friend 110\\nour Faithful Shepherd.... 354\\nOur Fellowship with... 187, 188\\nour Refuge 260\\nOut of Touch with 217\\nSoldiers of 217, 218\\nThe All-seeing 87\\nThe Carpenter 174\\nthe Great Discoverer 65\\nthe Ideal Physician 260\\nthe Living Bread 32\\nThe Risen 290\\nThe Seeking 360. 361\\n25\\nPAGE\\nChrist, the Way He Treats Us. 136\\nChristian, an Ideal for the 20\\nChurch, Influence of 95\\nConfidence 117\\nCourage 365, 366\\nGraces, The 180, 344, 345\\nKnighthood 255\\nLife 14\\nLife, Training for 167\\nOld Age 37\\nSong, Power of 121\\nWorker, Comfort for the,\\n69, 70\\nChristianity, a Hopeful. .214, 215\\nBarriers between Nations\\nbroken by 231\\nEvidences of 222, 223\\nGoes to the Root 63\\nHero-worship in 125, 126\\nIdeal of 63\\nProduces a Moral Atmos-\\nphere 285\\nSaves by Inner Transfor-\\nmation 63\\nthe Glory of 65\\nChristians Confidence, The. 117\\nGuide-Book, The 107\\nVantage ground, An Aged, 233\\nChristmas and Duty 145\\nThe Spirit of 161\\nChrist s Carpenter Bench,\\nTimber on 373\\nComing Reign, How to\\nHasten 258, 259\\nComing Victory 254\\nFellowship 103\\nLove for Us 278\\nPresence 119, 120, 290\\nSacrifice for Us 210\\nSacrifice, Greatness of 110\\nChurch, a City, What It Ought\\nto Be 379\\nChristian, Influence of 95\\nFormality a Stumbling-\\nblock in the 165, 166\\nPower of a United 84\\nThe Worldly 241\\nWhat it Should Stand for, 347\\nChurches.Some Like Croakers, 116\\nSome Need Closer Connec-\\ntion with Christ 205\\nCity Beehives 379\\nClaim of the Poorest Indorsed\\nby Christ 137\\nCleansing Power 286\\nClear Creek Mine. Utah 265\\nCleveland, President, Story\\nof 136, 137\\nClimbing, Moral 74", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0395.jp2"}, "396": {"fulltext": "386 Poetry and Morals\\nPAGE\\nClocks, Phonographic 162\\nCloset, The Skeleton in the 28\\nClub, The Poor Man s 351\\nCobra and the Pigeon 249\\nCocke, Zitella, quotation from, 172\\nCoin, A Universal 261\\nColeridge, quotations from,\\n54, 67, 264\\nColor-blindness, Moral 178\\nColtman, Dr. and Li Hung\\nChang 105\\nColumn, The Thanksgiving, 288,289\\nComfort for the Christian\\nWorker 69\\nComing of Joy, The poem\\nby W. Woods, quoted 218\\nCommand, The Power of 250\\nCommon Work Glorified 113\\nCommonplace Heroes 265\\nCommonplace Letter, A.\\nM. Sangster s poem, quoted 180\\nCommunication between God\\nand the Heart 68\\nCompensation, 1 Emerson s\\npoem 59\\nCompensation, Law of 11\\nComplaint, Coleridge s\\npoem 54\\nCompromises with Evil 61\\nConcentration, Power of. .377, 378\\nCone.Helen G., quotation from 203\\nConfidence, The Christian s. 117\\nConfounded Counsels Ill, 112\\nConquering Temptation 55, 56\\nConscience, a Tell-tale 206\\nGod s Searchlight on a\\nMan s 112\\nConscious Immortality 306\\nConsolation in Affliction .158,\\n164, 165\\nContrasts of Life 376\\nConversion, A Quiet 147, 148\\nFruits of 103, 104\\nThe Soul s 182,183\\nCook, Charles E., quotation\\nfrom 303\\nCooperation in the Home, 107, 108\\nNecessity of 334. 335\\nCorrupt Use of Wealth 82, 83\\nCounsels, Confounded. ...Ill, 112\\nCourage. Christian 365, 366\\nMoral 194, 195\\nWins Respect 56, 57\\nCowardice, Victory Over 155\\nCowper, quotations from, 264, 286\\nCradle, The Empty 279, 280\\nCreed, The Living 235\\nCroakers, Some Churches like\\n115, 116\\nPAGE\\nCrosby, Fanny, quotation\\nfrom 155\\nCrown of Thorns, The. 276, 277\\nCulture, Musical 29\\nThe Effect of 52\\nTrue 96\\nCurse, The Great 247\\nCurtis, Gertrude, quotation\\nfrom 211\\nCurzon, Lady, Story of 172\\nDanger of World! iness, The, 114, 115\\nDarkness, Choosing 70, 71\\nDaumesnil, General 294\\nDay, Ex-Secretary, Story of. 175\\nDay of Recognition, The 298\\nDeath, Faith in the Presence\\nof 286, 287\\nThe Freedom of 322, 323\\nThe Music of 9, 10\\nTransient: Life Lasting,\\n328, 329\\nDeath in the Desert, A, of\\nBrowning, quoted. 74\\nDeath-Gulch, Sin s 270\\nDeception in Appearances,192, 193\\nDeed, Charm of a Good 20, 21\\nDeeds of Kindness, Little. .180, 181\\nTraining for Great 340, 341\\nDeep that Coucheth Beneath,\\nThe 356, 357\\nDeeper Voice, The 39\\nDefenders of a Bad Cause, The\\nMedley of 21, 22\\nDelusion of To-morrow, The. Ill\\nDependence upon the Pres-\\nence of God 353\\nDepew, Senator, Story of 124\\nDeserving, Reward of 42\\nDestroyed by Contemptible\\nEnemies 237\\nDetecting False Jewels 139\\nDetective, The Infallible. ..308, 309\\nDevereux, Mary, quotation\\nfrom 114\\nDevil, A Charming 93\\nSugar-coating the 61\\nDevil s Pot-hunters, Mankind\\nEasy Prey of 311\\nDewey, Admiral, Loving-Cup\\nof 267, 268\\nDiamond, Jeweler and the. 5\\nDickinson, Mary Lowe, quota-\\ntion from 336\\nDiederich, Lida, quotation\\nfrom 338\\nDifference, The 271\\nDifficulties of Life, Overcom-\\ning 379, 380", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0396.jp2"}, "397": {"fulltext": "Topical Index 387\\nPAGE\\nDiscipline, Necessity of 16\\nSelf, What is Gained by It. 118\\nDiscontent 271\\nDivine 354, 355\\nDiscouragements of Life, Over-\\ncoming 102\\nDisease, man s Struggle\\nAgainst 2\\nDisguises of God s Angels 168\\nDisplay, Love of 27\\nDissipation, Habits of, Like a\\nTreacherous Bog 363\\nDives and Lazarus, Difference\\nbetween 233\\nDivine Discontent 354, 355\\nFellowship of Christ 68\\nDivinity of Christ 35\\nDo It To-day 162, 163\\nDoane, Bishop, quotation\\nfrom 134\\nDoing our Best 238\\nDomestic Sorrow, A Prolific\\nCause of 89, 90\\nDomination of Corrupt Ma-\\nchine 22\\nDoor, a King at the 150, 151\\nChrist Knocking at the, 195, 196\\nDoubts Vanished 79\\nDoudney, Sarah, quotation\\nfrom 258\\nDouglass, Frederick 208\\nDownhill, Easy to Go 348\\nDreaming: of Home 151, 152\\nDrifting Hulks 355, 356\\nDrink Adder, The 59, 60\\nDrowned in Sweets 76\\nDrum with a Remarkable His-\\ntory 71, 72\\nDrunkard, Anecdote of, in New\\nOrleans 7, 8\\nDrunkenness, Cruel Bondage\\nof 358\\nDunbar, P. L. quotation from, 62\\nDutchess County, N. Y., Great\\nBog in 363\\nDuty and Blessing 18, 19\\nChristmas and 145\\nThe Glory of 215\\nThe Protection of 92\\nDuty, To, poem by T. W.\\nHigginson, quoted 215\\nDuty s Path, E. W. Wil-\\ncox s poem, quoted 189, 190\\nEagle and Boy, Fight between,\\n133, 134\\nEagles at Merry-Meeting Bay,\\nMaine 325\\nEarnestness, A Call for 261\\nPAGE\\nEarnestness, Need of 213, 214\\nEarth s Changing Scenes.. 339, 340\\nEaster, A Song of 166, 167\\nEaster Dawn, W. Canton s\\npoem, quoted 164\\nEaster Day 177, 178\\nLilies 158, 159\\nThe Growth of 3u9\\nEasy to Go Downhill 348\\nEffect of Culture, The 52\\nElectric-light on Trees, Effect\\nof 114, 115\\nElectricity in the Hives .204, 205\\nElectroid, The Divine 305\\nElijah s Weak Spot 77, 78\\nElixir of Life, The 2, 123\\nElizabeth, Empress, Story of. 135\\nElliott, Charlotte, quotation\\nfrom 120\\nEmerson, quotations from,\\n1, 9, 20, 21, 28, 37, 59, 71, 96,\\n109, 120, 136,143, 227\\nEmotion, Waste of 277\\nEmpire, Augmenters of Spiri-\\ntual 243\\nEmpress of Germany,Story of, 360\\nEndurance, Milton a Spectacle\\nof 60\\nEnduring, The, S. K. Bol-\\nton s poem, quoted 185\\nEndymion, quotation from\\nKeats s 4\\nEnemies, Destroyed by Con-\\ntemptible 23?\\nEnergy, United. 84\\nEnterprise 143\\nEnvironment, Effects of.. 191, 192\\nEnvironments, E. Perkins s\\npoem, quoted 191\\nEternal Love 307, 308\\nEvery Man in his Place. .271, 272\\nEvidences of Christianity. .222, 223\\nEvil, Compromises with 61\\nCreation of 119\\nImaginations 160\\nin Human Society, To Kill\\nOff 288\\nSpeaking 33\\nThe Flying Arrows of 73\\nThoughts,The Power of, 172,173\\nExcuses, Wicked 106\\nExperience of Life, A Song\\nfor Every 369, 370\\nExpression of Gratitude, The, 123\\nEye, The Alert 279\\nEyes, Hardening the Heart\\nBlinds the 131\\nof the Soul, Sin Blinding. 116\\nto the Blind 62", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0397.jp2"}, "398": {"fulltext": "388 Poetry and Morals\\nPAGE\\nFaber, quotation from 65\\nFaces Watching for Us, The,\\n199, 200\\nFacing the Specters of the\\nMind 68\\nFailure and Success 281\\nChrist and ,.175, 176\\nSeeming 85\\nFaith, Holding onto 367, 368\\nThe Lens of 231\\nFaith in God, poem by Dr,\\nMackenzie, quoted 286\\nFaithful Shepherd, Christ our. 354\\nFalconry, the Sport 58\\nFalcons, Human 58, 59\\nFalling Face Downward 77\\nFalse Colors, Sailing Under, 306,307\\nJewels, Detecting 139\\nFamily Religion 374\\nFarningham, Mrs., quotations\\nfrom, 197, 255, 262, 278, 288,\\n328, 344, 360, 371\\nFascination of Sin, The 249\\nFashion, The Treadmill of, 207, 208\\nFault-finding with Providence, 364\\nFear and Blessing 156\\nFellowship, Divine, of Christ,\\n68, 221\\nwith Christ, Our.. 103, 187, 188\\nwith Jesus 169\\nFidelity in Need 22, 23\\nField, Eugene, quotations\\nfrom 151, 152, 239, 297\\nFields, J. T., his Fireside\\nHymn quoted 108\\nFighting Against Poverty 175\\nFinding a Friend 368\\nFault with Providence.... 364\\nGod through Man. 91\\nthe Lost 96, 97\\nFireside Worship 108\\nFlabbiness in Manhood 250\\nFlattery, Folly of 176, 177\\nFlavor of Life, The 228, 229\\nFletcher, Lucy, quotation\\nfrom 207\\nFog-dispeller, A 98, 99\\nFollowing Christ, Advantages\\nof 272\\nFolly, Malice and 26, 27\\nof Flattery 176, 177\\nFood, Stale 31, 32\\nVarieties of 52\\nForbearance, God s 371, 372\\nForgiveness, Riches of, Of-\\nfered by Christ 187\\nForks of the Road, The 225\\nFormality, a Stumbling-block\\nin the Church 165, 166\\nPAGE\\nFort St. Philip, Cavite, Pris-\\nons at 358\\nFoundations, Sure 84\\nFountain, A Cleansing 286\\nFoster, Bishop R. S., on Meth-\\nodists 209\\nFragments, Save the 336, 337\\nFranklin, Benjamin, Intro-\\nduced Broom-corn into\\nUnited States 279\\nHeber, Heroism of 265\\nFreaks of Nature in Arizona,\\n251, 252\\nFreedom and Right 28\\nHealing Power of 245\\nof Death, The 322, 323\\nof the Soul 99\\nFreeing Power of a Great\\nPurpose 37, 38\\nFresh Impulse 295\\nFriend, Christ More than a. 110\\nFinding a 368\\nI Had a 335\\nValue of a 335\\nFriendly Hand Value of a,\\n219, 220\\nFriends, Dangers of Evil-\\nminded...., 197\\nThe Blessing of 294\\nFriendship, Blessedness of 368\\nReal 18\\nFriendships, Earth s, Transi-\\ntorinessof 340\\nFritz, the Merchant s Son .46, 47\\nFrothingham, N quotation\\nfrom 115\\nFrown. Smiles and 97\\nFruit in Old Age 312\\nFruits of Conversion 103, 304\\nFunston, General, Story of. 192, 193\\nFurness, Dr. W. H. quotation\\nfrom 306\\nGalicia, Wild Man of 370\\nGannett, Dr., quotations from,\\n104, 342\\nGarland, Betty, quotation from 157\\nGate at the Head of the\\nStair, The, poem, quoted,\\n199, 200\\nGeese, Wild, at Topeka 311\\nGems, Appropriate, for Per-\\nsons to Wear 346\\nLost 293\\nGetting the Most Out of Life,\\n292, 293\\nGilbert, Helen,quotation from, 323\\nGilder, Richard Watson, quo-\\ntations from 281, 290", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0398.jp2"}, "399": {"fulltext": "Topical Index 389\\nPAGE\\nGladstone, Mr., and the Poor\\nShoemaker 80, 81\\nStory of 362\\nGlory of Common Things,The, 270\\nof Duty, The 215\\nof Unselfishness, The 125\\nGlowing Souls 29, 30\\nGod, A Man of 112\\nAll in All to the Sincere\\nChristian 184\\nFaith in 286, 287\\nFinding, through Man 91\\nGives Us a New Chance. 51\\nGoodness of 51\\nKnows and Cares 378\\nOur Dependence upon the\\nPresence of 353\\nour Father 297\\nour Only Hope 65\\nPerfect Peace in Submis-\\nsion to Will of 31\\nPerfect Trust in 301\\nPromise of, to Lost Sinners, 9\\nServing, in Little Things 83\\nThanksgiving to 334\\nThe Call of 27\\nThe Gold 257. 258\\nThe Motherhood of 319\\nGod s Angels 168\\nCare for Little Things 57\\nCare Over Humble Things\\nof Life 378\\nForbearance 371, 372\\nJustice 54\\nLove for the Humble 57\\nPower 342\\nProvidence 193, 194\\nSmiling Face in Nature. 49, 50\\nUnbroken Reign 205, 206\\nGoethe, quotation from 16\\nGold. Anecdote of Miner and\\nNugget of 41, 42\\nGod, The 257, 258\\nin a Honey- tree 91\\nLost 290, 291\\nMore Costly than 73, 74\\nNew-minted 341\\nThe King s 337\\nUnexpected Human 142\\nGood Name, A 4\\nShepherd, Jesus s picture\\nof the 360\\nGoodness in the World, Rising\\nTide of 312\\nof God 51\\nSaving Salt of 61\\nGossipers and Scandal-mon-\\ngers 33\\nGould, Jay 200, 201\\nPAGE\\nGrace, Temptations Overcome)\\nby God s 55\\nGraces, The Christian, 180, 344. 345\\nGratitude, The Expression of, 123\\nThe Personal. We Owe the\\nSavior 330\\nGreatness, Acknowledging\\nMistakes an Element of True, 269\\nGreed, Love of 27\\nSpirit of 16\\nGreedy Spirit, A 15, 16\\nGreenhalge, Gov. F. T., quo-\\ntation from 304\\nGrowing Old Poetically 340\\nGrowth and Rest 197, 198\\nMushroom, Never Desir-\\nable 36, 37\\nof Character, The 104\\nof Easter, The 309\\nof Human Rights, The. 132\\nGuerrilla Warfare of the\\nTongue, The 172\\nGuide Book, The Christian s. 107\\nGuinevere, Tennyson s Queen, 3\\nGutta-percha, Scarcity of 375\\nGuyon, Madame, quotation\\nfrom 99\\nHabeas Corpus, quotation\\nfrom H. H. Jackson s\\npoem 23, 24\\nHale, Edward E.. quotation\\nfrom 350\\nHand of Jesus, The 154, 174\\nThe Friendly 219, 220\\nHappiness, Elusiveness of 218\\nof the World, to What It\\nis Due 180. 181\\nTrials Intensify 203\\nHardening the Heart Blinds\\nthe Eyes 131\\nHarrison, Frederic, on the\\nBible.... 319, 320\\nHastings, Lady Flora, Story\\nof 24 25\\nHe Died for Me 210\\nHeadlights, Electric Double-\\nray 247\\nHealing Power of Freedom,\\nThe 245\\nHealth, Sobriety and 188. 189\\nHeart, Communication be-\\ntween God and the Hu-\\nman 68\\nHardening the, Blinds the\\nEyes 131\\nHollow at the 45, 46\\nPriceless Fruit of the\\nYouthful Human 228", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0399.jp2"}, "400": {"fulltext": "390 Poetry and Morals\\nPAGE\\nHeart, The Happiest 252, 253\\nTransforming the 97\\nHearts, Transforming Sinful, 35\\nHeaven, A Taste of 245, 246\\nDrawing Nearer 291\\nHumannessof 1\\nHeavenly Attraction, The, 314-316\\nHeaven s Work 23, 24\\nHeavens, The Opened, Tenny-\\nson s picture of 268, 269\\nHelpfulness of Little Things,\\nThe 88, 89\\nHelping Ourselves by Helping\\nOthers 356\\nthe Weak 317, 318\\nHerbert, George, quotation\\nfrom 123\\nHermes Trismegitus 2\\nHero-worship in Christianity,\\n125, 126\\nHeroes, Commonplace 265\\nThe Quiet 329\\nUnknown.... 221, 222\\nHeroic Temper, The 157, 158\\nHeroism 71\\nHerons, Croaking of 116\\nHewing Rough Stone 133\\nHidden Life, The 342\\nHigginson. E., quotation from, 51\\nT. W., quotation from.... 215\\nHis Hand was Rough, A.\\nMacMechan s poem, quoted, 174\\nHobson, Lieutenant 329\\nHodges, E. F., quotation from, 374\\nHolding on to Faith 367, 368\\nHollow at the Heart 45, 46\\nHolmes, Oliver Wendell, quo-\\ntations from 233, 359\\nHome, Dreaming of 151, 152\\nHome-life, The Give and Take\\nof 107\\nWoman s Side of the 101\\nHome Spirit, The 163, 164\\nThe Bible in the 115\\nWhat It Is for 108\\nHomesickness 170, 171\\nHoming-Pigeon, The 20\\nHonest Money 75\\nHonesty and Truth Universal\\nCoin 261\\nHoney of Life, The 39, 40\\nHoney -tree. Gold in a 91\\nHonor, Queer Ideas of 333\\nHonors, poem by George\\nAlway, quoted 221\\nHope a Divine Electroid, 305, 306\\nGloriousness of the Chris-\\ntian s 155\\nGod our Only 65\\nPAGE\\nHope, The Christian s 215, 229\\nThe Religion of 3\\nHow to Awaken Nobility in\\nOthers 346\\nto Enjoy Religion 183\\nto Hasten Christ s Coming\\nReign 258, 259\\nHoward, H. H., quotation\\nfrom 293\\nHowe, Julia Ward 298\\nHowells, W. D., quotation\\nfrom 313\\nHulks, Drifting 355, 356\\nHuman Falcons 58, 59\\nGold 142\\nLife, Shortness of 3\\nRights, Growth of 132\\nHumanity, When at its Best, 101\\nWorking for Service of.... 152\\nHumanness of Heaven 1\\nHumble, God s Love for the 57\\nHumility 33, 34\\nHunter, Story of African .26, 27\\nHusbanding One s Resources, 343\\nHuxley, Prof., Lines on Grave\\nof 229\\nHyacinths in Florida Rivers.. 331\\nI Had a Friend 335\\nIbrahim Pasha Fauzi 147\\nIdeal Physician, The 259, 260\\nIdeas, Queer, of Honor 333\\nIdleness, Heaven Not 23\\nIdol, Testing the ..130\\nIf, A Soul-paralyzing 229\\nIf Christ Should Come To^\\nday, H. Beard s poem,\\nquoted 188\\nIf We Had but a Day, poem\\nby M. L. Dickinson, quoted, 336\\nI ll Do What I Can poem\\nby E. W. Wilcox, quoted.... 238\\nImagination may Become an\\nInstrument of Punish-\\nment 160\\nThe Power of 201, 202\\nImaginations. Evil 160\\nImmortality, Conscious 306\\nSong of 166, 167\\nImportance of Time, The. 72\\nImpulse, Fresh 295\\nIncarnate Love 67\\nIndia, Gold Lost in 290\\nIndian Mutiny, Story of the. 37, 38\\nIndividuality, Importance of a\\nMan s 272\\nInfallible Detective 308, 309\\nInfluence, Power of Personal,\\n263, 264", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0400.jp2"}, "401": {"fulltext": "Topical Index\\n39 1\\nPAGE\\nInheritance, Man s Common. 92\\nInhumanity, Man s 283\\nInjustice, Man s 283, 284\\nInspiration to Toil 256\\nInspiring One Another 366, 367\\nIntelligence, Respecting Our,\\n220, 221\\nInvincible Love 120\\nIrrigation in California. .277, 278\\nJackson, H. H., quotations\\nfrom 23, 34, 43, 295, 296\\nJameson Raid, Story of 219\\nJefferson, Thomas, Violin of 64\\nJelly, The Volunteer and the,\\n163, 164\\nJesus, Coming of 258\\nFellowship with 169\\nThe Hand of 154\\nSee also under Christ.\\nJewel, A Priceless 346\\nJewels of Character Lost, 293, 294\\nDetecting False 139\\nJohnston, Robert, Negro Mis-\\nsionary 127, 128\\nJoseph s Bench, At. poem\\nby G-. Macdonald, quoted 373\\nJoy and Service 218\\nJun Rey,Chief of the Cherokees 216\\nJustice, God s 54\\nLove and 40\\nKeats, quotations from,4, 14, 30, 46\\nKeniston, Clara, quotation\\nfrom 225\\nKeynote of Life, The 86, 87\\nKilauea, Volcano 81, 82\\nKimberley Diamond Districts, 131\\nKindness, Little Deeds of. .180, 181\\nof the Living 280, 281\\nKing at the Door, A 50, 151\\nKing s Gold, The 337\\nKiser, S. E., quotation from... 208\\nKnighthood, Christian 255\\nKnocking, Ever Knocking,\\nH. B. Stowe spoem, quoted, 195\\nKnocking Off the Shackles, 146, 147\\nKnowlton, C. M., quotation\\nfrom 239\\nLabor Not Regarded as the\\nWork of Man 313\\nThe Music of 296\\nLakeside, The, Whittier s\\npoem 49\\nLame Take the Prey 138\\nLand-Locked. poem by C.\\nThaxter. quoted 348\\nLanterns, American 168\\nPAGE\\nLarcom,Lucy, quotations from,\\n112, 232, 320\\nLargeness of Mind 124\\nLast Prayer, H. H. Jack-\\nson s, quoted 34\\nLast Walk in Autumn, The,\\nof Whittier, quoted 70\\nLaw and Freedom 16\\nof Compensation 11\\nof Progress, The 242\\nLazarus and Dives, Difference\\nbetween 233\\nLe Conte Pear, The 52\\nLeadership, Moral, Secret of. 57\\nLee, Gen. R. E., Story of 127\\nLeeches in the Himalaya\\nValleys 234\\nLegality, Love or 46, 47\\nLegend Beautiful, The, quo-\\ntation from 18\\nLens of Faith, The 231\\nLeonard, Priscilla, quotation\\nfrom 376\\nLesson of Resignation, The, 332. 333\\nLife a Buffing- wheel 78, 79\\nA Song for Every Experi-\\nence of 369, 370\\nA Useful 299\\nAbundant, How Obtained, 293\\nContrasts in 376\\nHuman, Divine Qualities in, 19\\nLasting Death Transient, 328\\nLight and Dark Sides of 62\\nof Trust, A 211, 212\\nOpportunities of 109\\nPhilosophy of 38\\nRelation between Charac-\\nter and 85\\nResurrection, the Arbu-\\ntus a Suggestion of 146\\nThe Elixir of 2, 123\\nThe Flavor of 228, 229\\nThe Hidden 342\\nThe Honey of 39, 40\\nThe Importance of the At-\\nmosphere of 284\\nThe Keynote of 86, 87\\nThe Music of 203\\nThe Struggle of 6, 7\\nThe Value of a Definite\\nPurpose in 273\\nThe Wastage of 282\\nTrials of, The Afterward\\nof, Full of Peace 310\\nLife ship on Fire 53\\nLife s Bedtime 359\\nWheel, At 43, 44\\nLight of the World, picture\\ncalled 195", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0401.jp2"}, "402": {"fulltext": "392 Poetry and Morals\\nPAGE\\nLight, The Age of 247, 248\\nthe Best Policeman 133\\nWe Shed, The 168, 169\\nLi Hung (Jhang and the Bible, 105\\nLike a Palm-tree 309, 310\\nLilies, Easter 158, 159\\nLimitations of Money, The, 364, 365\\nof Wealth, The 6\\nLions, Our Slain 216\\nTaming 118\\n.Listening Heart of The\\nWorld, The, poem by L.\\nDiederich, quoted 338\\nLittle Things, Service to God\\nin 83\\nLives, Wind-blown 311\\nLiving Rest, A 128\\nLock step of Sin, The 190, 191\\nLongfellow, H. W. quotations\\nfrom.... 18, 35, 36, 79, 111,206\\nSamuel, quotation from.. 307\\nLonging for a Wider Career,\\n348, 349\\nthe Stepping-stone to\\nAchievement 324, 325\\nLooking on Both Sides 63, 64\\nLord s Torches, The 53\\nLost, Finding the 96, 97\\nGems 293\\nGold 290, 291\\nin the Sand 140, 141\\nLove and Justice 40\\nA Sister s 42\\nand Trust 307, 308\\nfor Us, Christ s 278\\nIncarnate 67\\nInvincible 120\\nLesser Ministries of 285\\nMeets Our Human Wants, 153\\nor Legality 46, 47\\nPower of 232\\nPower of, to Surmount\\nDifficulties 120\\nRenewing Youth 9\\nThe Attraction of 201\\nThe Spur of 209\\nLoved Ones, Reunion with 12\\nLove s Willing Service 321, 322\\nLoving Cup, The Best 267, 268\\nLowell, J. R., quotations from,\\n57, 91, 141, 161, 168, 250, 297,\\n324, 341, 346\\nLust Yielded to Grows into a\\nHabit 51, 54\\nMacdonald, George, quotations\\nfrom 128, 373\\nMacDonald, Gen. Hector, an-\\necdote of 56, 57\\nPAGE\\nMachine, a Money-making, 200, 201\\nDomination of Corrupt.. 22\\nMcKenzie, Dr. W. S., quota-\\ntion from 286\\nMacMechan, Archibald, quota-\\ntion from 174\\nMake Religion Attractive, 13, 14\\nthe Most of Youth 257\\nMaleo, Bird Called 36\\nMalice and Folly 26, 27\\nMan Behind the Words, The. 186\\nCompared to a Palm tree, 310\\nof God, A 112,113\\nWhite, Turned Black. .54, 55\\nThe Average 109\\nMan, The, That Did Stand by, 23\\nMan, The, Who Longed to\\nLead, S. E. Kiser s\\npoem, quoted 208\\nMan-eaters 32, 33\\nManhood, Development of\\nSpiritual 100\\nFlabbiness in 250\\nMan s Common Inheritance 92\\nInjustice 2S3, 284\\nSonship to God 74\\nManila, Incident of Battle of, 366\\nMargaret of Valois, quotation\\nfrom 260\\nMargharita, Anecdote of\\nQueen 11, 12\\nMargin, The Narrow 161\\nMark for the Archers, A 72, 73\\nMassey, Gerald, quotations\\nfrom 276, 312\\nMaster s Face, The, poem\\nby John von Bohlyns,\\nquoted 326\\nMaster s Portrait, The 135\\nMatson, William Kidd, quota-\\ntion from 182\\nMauna Loa, volcano 81, 82\\nMedals, African King and\\nhis 306, 307\\nMedley of Defenders of a Bad\\nCause, The 21, 22\\nMelodies, poem by C. E.\\nCook, quoted 303\\nMemories of Mother 157\\nMemory and Cheerfulness.... 114\\nMemory s Sunken City 25\\nMentuhotep, Bread Found in\\nthe Tomb of 31, 32\\nMerchant and his Son, Story\\nof 46, 47\\nMercy, Picture of God s 204\\nPity, Peace, and Love 347\\nReliance on God s, a Source\\nof Strength 138", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0402.jp2"}, "403": {"fulltext": "Topical Index\\n393\\nPAGE\\nMessage the World Needs 338\\nMessengers, Angelic 171\\nMetal Polishers of New York, 78\\nMetals, Prices of Rare 74\\nMice and Music 29\\nMillerstown, Pa., Most Health-\\nful Town in United States. 188\\nMillionaire, An Armless and\\nLegless 364\\nMilton, quotation from 60\\nMind, Largeness of 124\\nThe Young, to be Studied, 247\\nMiner and Nugget of Gold,\\nAnecdote of 41, 42\\nMinistries, The Lesser 285\\nMirrors and Morals 69\\nMisfits 246\\nMissionaries and Beaver-dams, 95\\nMistakes, Acknowledging, an\\nElement of True Greatness.. 269\\nMizpah, E. Bradt s poem,\\nquoted 193\\nMolasses as Food 17\\nMonarch Held Captive, A 66\\nMoney a Curse When Our Mas-\\nter 201\\nHonest 75\\nThe Limitations of.... 364, 365\\nMoney getting, Sordidness of, 258\\nMonod, T., quotation from 125\\nMontana, Beavers in 95\\nMonument, The Most Lasting, 185\\nMoore. Thomas, quotations\\nfrom. 6,11,20, 38\\nMope or Hope 376, 377\\nMoral Climbing 74\\nColor-blindness 178\\nCourage 194, 195\\nMorality 47\\nMorals, Mirrors and 69\\nMore Costly than Gold 73, 74\\nMorris, William, quotation\\nfrom 7\\nMorrison, Peter, quotation\\nfrom 266\\nMother. Memories of 157\\nMotherhood, The Poets and... 264\\nThe Song of 303\\nof God. The 319\\nMother s Hour, The 274\\nMountain Dwellers 100\\nMountaineer s Prayer, A 112\\nMiiller, Wilhelm. quotations\\nfrom 25. 40. 73, 81. 119, 139\\nMulholland, Rosa, quotation\\nfrom 176\\nMusic an Inspiration to Labor, 256\\nA Skv-born 226, 227\\nMice and 29\\nPAGE\\nMusic of Death. The... 9, 10\\nof Labor, The 296\\nof Life, The 203\\nPower of 127\\nRemembered 11\\nMy Savior, poem, quoted,\\n330, 331\\nMy Savior s Hand, K. Pur-\\nvis s, quoted 154\\nMyself and I, poem by C.\\nM. Knowlton, quoted 239\\nName, A Good 4\\nNameless Saints 350\\nNapier, Sir Charles 155\\nNarrow Margin, The 161\\nNasse, Prof., Adventure of... 157\\nNathan s Example in Dealing\\nwith David 177\\nNature and Art, quotation\\nfrom Goethe s 16\\nNature, God s Smiling Face in,\\n49, 50\\nPresence of God in Chan-\\nging Scenes of 49\\nNature s Restfulness 4, 5\\nNeed, Fidelity in 22, 23\\nof Earnestness 213 214\\nNemesis of Sin, The 316, 317\\nNerves, Wasted 30i-303\\nNesting in a Wreck 198, 199\\nNever Give Up.... 182\\nNew Caledonia, Pearl-fields of, 153\\nNew-minted Gold 341\\nNew Year, The 204\\nFresh Impulse on Entering:,\\n295, 296\\nNobility in Others, How to\\nArouse 346\\nNourishing Sweets 17, 18\\nOasis, The Sunday 304, 305\\nObedience Better than Success, 368\\nOld Age, Christian 37\\nOmdurman, Dervish Skeletons\\nfrom 28\\nOne by One, Fanny Cros-\\nby s hymn, quoted 155, 156\\nOnly a Day s March into Time,\\n379, 380\\nOpening the Prison Doors 358\\nOpportunities of Life 109\\nOpportunity. Seizing 80, 81\\nThe Value of an 254\\nOppression, Success by 325\\nOrchard, Protecting the. .227, 228\\nOrchids of the Soul. The 224\\nOsier, Address by Dr 259\\nOspreys Nestingina Wreck, 198,199", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0403.jp2"}, "404": {"fulltext": "394 Poetry and Morals\\nPAGE\\nOur Slain Lions. 216\\nOut of Touch with Christ 217\\nOwls in Darkness, Men Like, 70, 71\\nPacific Cable 375\\nPalm-tree, Man Like a 309, 310\\nParrot and Chaplain, Story of,\\n176, 177\\nPartridge, William, quotation\\nfrom 351\\nPassing of Time, The 162\\nPast, The Sacred 25\\nPath, The Lost 141\\nPaths, Divergent 225\\nPatrick, St., Hymn of 184\\nPatriot s Prayer, The 367\\nPatti, Adelina, Anecdote of, 34, 35\\nPauper, Worker, or Which?... 179\\nPavements, Rich 130, 131\\nPeace, The Army of 372\\nThe Price of 239, 335\\nThe Sublimest, Where\\nFound. 207\\nVictories of 72\\nPearl-fields, Spiritual 153, 154\\nPepper, Dr. William, Story of, 377\\nPerfect Trust in God 301\\nPerkins, Elizabeth, quotation\\nfrom 191\\nPermanence of the Unseen,\\nThe 47, 48\\nPerseverance and Cheerful-\\nness 101, 102\\nReward of 253\\nPersonal Influence, Power of, 263\\nSavior, A ..330, 331\\nPetition, The Plodder s 323\\nPhillips, Philip, Jr., quotation\\nfrom 299\\nPhysician, The Ideal 259, 260\\nPigeon, The Homing 20\\nPirate Chief, A, 11 Z. Cocke s\\nsong, quoted 172, 173\\nPlasterer, The Drunken. .143, 144\\nPleasure, Good and Evil of 77\\nPleasures, Differences in 189\\nWorldly, Transient Char-\\nacter of 38\\nPlenty of Room at the Top. 253\\nPlodder s Petition, The,\\npoem by H. Gilbert,\\nquoted 323\\nPoet Ought to Be, What the 91\\nPoets. Motherhood and the... 264\\nPoint of View, The 62. 63\\nPoison of Sin, The 349, 350\\nPoisoning the Blood 349\\nPoliceman, Light the Best. 133\\nPoorhouse of Sin 187\\nPAGE\\nPoor Man s Club. The. 351\\nPositive Character 18\\nPot-hunters, Mankind Easy\\nPrey of Devil s 311\\nPoverty, Fighting Against 175\\nor Great Riches, Danger of 64\\nto Riches From 187\\nPower, Freeing, of a Great\\nPurpose. 37\\nof Brotherhood 127, 128\\nof Christian Song, The 121\\nof Command, The 250\\nof Early Associations 239\\nof Imagination, The. ..201, 202\\nof Music 127\\nof Personal Influence, 263, 264\\nof Self -concentration 377\\nof Sin, Blinding 116\\nof the Bible, The 106\\nPrather, Dr. F. H., quotation\\nfrom 146\\nPrayer, A, poem by P. Phil-\\nlips, Jr., quoted 299\\nPrayer and Works 208, 209\\nThe Patriot s 367\\nWithout Works 73\\nPrayer-Meetirg and Saloon 143, 144\\nPrejudices, People Morally\\nColor-blind through 179\\nPreston, Margaret, Story of\\nthe Brahman by 130\\nPrice of Peace, The 335\\nPriceless Jewel, A 346\\nPrison Doors, Opening the... 358\\nProcrastination, Evil of... 162, 163\\nProdigal Son, Oriental Legend\\nof 8, 9\\nProgress, The Law of 242\\nProlific Cause of Domestic\\nSorrow, A 89, 90\\nPromise of God to Sinners 9\\nProspice, quotation from\\nBrowning s 12, 13\\nProtecting the Orchard. .227, 228\\nProtection of Duty, The 92\\nProvidence, Finding Fault with 364\\nof God 193, 194\\nPulpit, Mission of the 848\\nPurpose in Life, The Value of\\na Definite 37, 38, 273\\nUnity of Power of 84\\nPurvis, Katherine, quotation\\nfrom 154\\nPython and Wild Pigs, Battle\\nBetween 84\\nQueen and the Parrot, Story\\nof 176, 177\\nQueer Ideas of Honor 333", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0404.jp2"}, "405": {"fulltext": "Topical Index\\n395\\nPAGE\\nRailroads in United States,\\nArmy of Men Employed on 372\\nRaiment of the Soul, The, 210, 211\\nRalli, General 117\\nRats in Pennsylvania Mine 327\\nRattlesnake, Inherited Traits\\nof 93, 94\\nReal Worth 275, 276\\nReason for Charity 191, 192\\nReasons for Singing 351, 352\\nRecognition, The Day of 298\\nRedbreast, Robin, Legend of, 134\\nReed, A, 1 E. B. Browning s\\npoem, quoted 140\\nRefuge, Christ Our 260\\nReign, God s Unbroken 205\\nRejected Royalty 235, 236\\nRelation between Character\\nand Life 85\\nRelative Value of Things 232\\nReligion, Family 374\\nHow to Enjoy 183\\nof Hope, The 3\\nReligious Life, A Positive, 287, 288\\nRemembered Music 11\\nRemembrance, A Beautiful,\\n212, 213\\nA Sweet, Possible for All. 213\\nReproof, Coleridge s poem, 54\\nReputation, A Good 4\\nReservoir, Every Church a 96\\nResignation, The Lesson of 332, 333\\nResources. Abundant 375, 376\\nRespect, Courage Wins 56, 57\\nRespecting Our Intelligence,\\n220, 221\\nRest, A Living 128\\nRest A While, 1 Mrs. Farning-\\nhara s poem, quoted 197\\nRest, Growth and 197, 198\\nin Action 207\\nRestfulness of Great Books,\\nThe 35, 36\\nof the Sea, The 30\\nResting and Waiting 149, 150\\nResurrection Life, The Arbu-\\ntus a Suggestion of 146\\nReunion with Loved Ones, 12, 13\\nRevelations, Whittier s\\npoem, quoted 117\\nReverence for God 134\\nu Rhapsody of Life s Progress,\\nA, E. B. Browning s poem, 86\\nRhodes, Cecil, Story of 282\\nRich, but a Beggar 290\\nPavements. 130, 131\\nRichelieu, Cardinal, Story of, 132\\nRiches, Danger of Poverty or\\nGreat 64\\nPAGE\\nRiches, From Poverty to 187\\nTemptations of 12\\nRichmond, Capture of 217\\nRight and Stubborness, Dif-\\nference between 269, 270\\nRighteous Awards 59\\nRighteousness 23\\nRights,The Growth of Human, 132\\nRiley, James Whitcomb, quo-\\ntations from 220, 364\\nRinging Rocks, near Potts-\\ntown 29, 30\\nRoad Home, The 317\\nRobin Redbreast, Legend of.. 134\\nRobinson, Kenneth, on Negro\\nSoldiers at Santiago 230\\nRock of Ages, The 17, 363\\nRoosevelt, Col. Theodore, and\\nhis Spectacles 343\\nAnecdote of 269\\nRopes Made from Spider-web, 352\\nRoses in Winter 345\\nRossetti, C, quotations from,\\n31, 42, 177, 201, 334\\nRothschild, Nathan Mayer,\\nAnecdote of 335\\nat Waterloo, Story of 254\\nRoyal Tenderness 359, 360\\nRoyalty, Rejected 235, 236\\nTattooed 40, 41\\nRum, Bacteria of 120\\nRussell, Maud, quotation\\nfrom 380\\nRychnowski, Francis, Discov-\\nery Made by 305\\nSabbath Sunshine, The 366\\nSacrifice,Greatnessof Christ s, 110\\nSafe, Apache Indians and the\\nPaymaster s 299, 300\\nSailing Under False Colors,\\n306, 307\\nSt. Paul s Cathedral, Com-\\nmunion Service of 75\\nSaints, Nameless 350\\nSaloon, Prayer-meeting and,\\n143, 144\\nMisnamed the Poor Man s\\nClub 351\\nSaloons, Evils Wrought by, 189. 351\\nSalt, The Saving 60, 61\\nLake, Great, Drying Up, 287\\nSamory, Dethroned African\\nMonarch 66\\nSampson, Admiral, Story of, 194\\nSanctimoniousness 139\\nSand, Building on 252\\nSangster, Margaret, quotations\\nfrom 180, 247", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0405.jp2"}, "406": {"fulltext": "396 Poetry and Morals\\nPAGE\\nSankey, Ira D., Story of 121\\nSantiago, Heroism of Negro\\nSoldiers at 230\\nSave the Fragments 336, 337\\nSaving Others 75\\nthe Fragments 138, 139\\nSavior, A Personal 330, 331\\nScandal-mongers and Gossip-\\ners 33\\nScarecrows, The Devil s 240\\nSchley, Admiral, Story of 220\\nSchumann, Dr., Adventure of, 190\\nSchurman, Jacob Gould, Early\\nStruggles of 253\\nScituate, Mass., Channel at, 342\\nScott, General, Story of 218\\nSea and the Cloud, 11 poem,\\nquoted 314-316\\nThe Restlessness of the 30\\nSearchlights, Use of 112\\nSecret Alliances 331\\nPlace, The, poem by W.\\nC. Gannett, quoted 342\\nSin 45, 46\\nSeeing Ourselves as Others\\nSee Us 7, 8\\nSeeth, Julius, Lion-tamer 118\\nSeizing Opportunity 80, 81\\nSelf concentration, Power of, 377\\nSelf control, Necessity of 16\\nSelf-denial, What is Gained\\nby It 118\\nSelf indulgence, The Wrecks of, 226\\nSelf-reliance 81\\nSelf-surrender 30, 31\\nService, Joy and 218\\nLove s Willing 321, 322\\nShining and 81, 82\\nto God in Little Things 83\\nServing God in Little Things, 83\\nSetting, A Graceful 179, 180\\nShackles,Knocking Off the,146, 147\\nShakespeare, quotations from,\\n21, 53, 61, 83, 93, 106, 116, 131, 142,\\n160, 228, 251, 322\\nShawl of Empress of Russia,210, 21 1\\nShepherd, Faithful 354\\nShine After Cloud 310\\nShining and Service 81, 82\\nShipwreck, Danger of Eter-\\nnal 374\\nShoemaker, Mr. Gladstone\\nand the Poor 80, 81\\nShoulders of Steel 304\\nSight, The Inner 240, 241\\nSigsbee, Captain. Story of 246\\nSin Dormant in Man 149\\nExcuses for, Blacker than\\nthe Original Sin 106\\nPAGE\\nSin, Horrid Disease of 142\\nInfluence of, on Character, 309\\nKnocking Off the Shackles\\nof 147\\nPoorhouse of 187\\nSecret 45, 46\\nthe Assassin of Cheerful-\\nness 117\\nThe Blinding Power of 116\\nThe Fascination of 10, 249\\nThe Lockstep of i90, 191\\nThe Nemesis of 316, 317\\nThe Poison of 349, 350\\nThe Treachery of 219\\nThe Wages of 78\\nUgliness of 69\\nSinging, Reasons for 351, 352\\nSocieties 296\\nSinner, Every, a Captive 66\\nSinners Refuse to Receive\\nGod s Inheritance 236\\nSin s Dearh-Gulch 270\\nVagabonds 370, 371\\nSins, Beware of Little 93, 94\\nSecret 331, 332\\nThe Tragedy of Skulking,\\n327, 328\\nSir Launfal, J. R. Lowell s,\\nquoted 141\\nSister s Love, A 42\\nSkeleton in the Closet, The 28\\nSkulking Sins,The Tragedy of, 327\\nSkull-banjo, Musical Instru-\\nment Called the 9\\nSky, The Manners of the 1\\nSky-born Music, A 226. 227\\nSkylark, The 160, 161\\nSlander, Shakespeare s De-\\nscription of 251\\nSlanderers, Assassins of Char-\\nacter 172\\nSlaves, White 813\\nSlosson, Mr., Experiment of, 202\\nSmiles and Frowns J7\\nSmithson, James, Anecdote\\nof 314\\nSnake-bird, Description of the,\\n101, 102\\nSobriety and Health 188, 189\\nSoldier s Hardihood, The 152\\nSoldiers of Christ 217, 218, 373\\nSong of Immortality 166, 167\\nSong of Trust, by G. Curtis,\\nquoted 211\\nSong. The Changing 369\\nThe Power of Christian... 121\\nThe Sweetest, on Earth is\\nMother s 303\\nthe World Needs, The, 338, 339", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0406.jp2"}, "407": {"fulltext": "Topical Index\\n397\\nPAGE\\nSonship to God, Man s 74\\nSorrow, A Prolific Cause of Do-\\nmestic 89, 90\\nThe Blessings of 266, 267\\nSorrows and Trials, Reasons\\nfor Thanksgiving for. 133\\nSoul, Freedom of the 99\\nRefreshing the 35\\nThe Courageous 294\\nThe Orchids of the 224\\nThe Raiment of the.... 210, 211\\nThe Sick 142\\nThe Value of a 46\\nYouth of the 85, 86\\nSoulac, Germany, Buried\\nChurch at 241\\nSoul s Conversion, the 182, 183\\nSouls, Glowing 29, 30\\nSow s Milk as Nourishment\\nfor Babes 15, 16\\nSparing the Father to Save\\nthe Boys 231\\nSpeaking Kindly, Delay in. 281\\nSpecters of the Mind, Facing\\nthe 68\\nSpenser, Edmund, quotation\\nfrom 171\\nSpider-webs, Useful 352\\nSpinning, H. H. Jackson s\\npoem 43, 44\\nSpirit, A Greedy 15, 16\\nof Christmas 161\\nSweetness of 92\\nThe Beggar s 290\\nThe Home 163, 164\\nSpiritual Atmosphere 20, 21\\nBlessings, Thanksgiving\\nfor 122\\nEmpire, Augmenters of 243\\nFare 152\\nManhood, Development of, 100\\nPearl-fields 152, 153\\nSpite, The Uselessness of. .24, 25\\nSpringtime, Blossoming of\\nHeavenly 166\\nSpur of Love, The 209\\nStale Food 31, 32\\nStandpoint, The Importance\\nof the 184\\nStephen, Martyrdom of. ,.268, 269\\nStetson, Charlotte, quotation\\nfrom 179\\nSteve, the Farmer Boy, Story\\nof 275, 276\\nStevenson, R. L., quotation\\nfrom 186\\nStiles, Kate R., quotation from 369\\nStoddard, Richard Henry,\\nquotation from 257\\nPAGE\\nStories, Evils of Malicious 172\\nStory of a Tree, A, poem by\\nMrs. Farningham, quoted,\\n371, 372\\nStowe, Harriet Beecher, quo-\\ntation from 195\\nStrength for Christ s Service, 152\\nStrong Men, Value of 32\\nStruggle of Life, The 6, 7\\nStubbornness and Right, Dif-\\nference between 269, 270\\nSubmission to Will of God,\\nPerfect Peace in 31\\nSuccess by Oppression 325\\nFailure and 281\\nObedience Better than 368\\nSugarcoating the Devil 61\\nSumideros of Arizona, 251, 252\\nSunshine, The Sabbath 366\\nSuperior to Trifles 124\\nSwarm of Butterflies, The, 142, 143\\nSweating, Character 129\\nSweetest Song on Earth is\\nMother s, The.... 303\\nSweets, Nourishing 17, 18\\nSympathy for Others 140, 367\\nPower of 185\\nTake Time to Fly 36, 37\\nTalen s, God s Purpose in Our, 53\\nTaming Lions 118\\nTaste of Heaven, A, 245, 246\\nTattooed Royalty 40, 41\\nTea, Flavor of, Lost by Sea\\nTransportation 228\\nTear, Analysis of a 314\\nTears of the Great 361, 362\\nTelegraph-pole, Woodpeckers\\nand the 45\\nTelegraphy, Wireless 67, 68\\nTelescope, A Far-sighted 380\\nTelfener, Count, Career of,\\n280, 281\\nTemper, The Heroic 157, 158\\nTemple in Our Breasts, The. 353\\nTemptation, Conquering. .55, 56\\nTemptations Overcome by\\nGod s Grace 55\\nTenderness, Example of Roy-\\nal 360\\nTennyson, Anecdote of 322\\nQuotations from.. 3, 18, 32,\\n39, 68, 77, 235, 268, 309\\nTestimony of the Life, The, 34, 35\\nTetanus or Lockjaw, Cause of, 245\\nThankful Heart, A, poem\\nby E. I. Tupper, quoted 357\\nThanksgiving Column, The,", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0407.jp2"}, "408": {"fulltext": "398 Poetry and Morals\\nPAGE\\nThanksgiving for Sorrow and\\nTrials 133\\nfor Spiritual Blessings 122\\nto God 334\\nThaxter, Celia, quotation from, 348\\nThayer, William Roscoe, quo-\\ntation from 340\\nThings, Glory of Common 270\\nGold Will Not Buy 74\\ntoo Deep for Analysis 314\\nThis World is All a Fleeting\\nShow, poem by Moore,\\nquoted 38\\nThorns, The Crown of 276, 277\\nThoughts, Evil, Power of,\\n172, 173, 352\\nThree Crosses, The, poem\\non, quoted 210\\nThrenody, quotation from\\nEmerson s 1\\nTide, The Rising 312\\nTigers, Man-eaters 32, 33\\nTimber on Christ s Carpenter\\nBench, Mankind as 373\\nTime, Care of 342\\nOnly a Day s March into,\\n379, 380\\nSaving the Fragments of, 336\\nThe Importance of 72\\nThe Passing of 162\\nTit-Bits, Origin of Paper\\nCalled 83\\nTitian, Career of 312\\nTiticaca, Lake, Peculiar Qual-\\nity of 286\\nTo-day, Work for 341\\nToil, Inspiration to 256\\nTo-morrow, The Delusion of. Ill\\nTongue, The Guerrilla War-\\nfare of the 172\\nTorches, The Lord s 53\\nTouch, Out of, with Christ. 217\\nTragedy of Skulking Sins,\\nThe 327, 328\\nu Trailing Arbutus, The, Dr.\\nF. H. Prather s, quoted 146\\nTraining Birds to Sing 167\\nfor Great Deeds 340, 341\\nTransitoriness of Earthly\\nThings 38, 39\\nTreachery of Sin, The 219\\nTreadmill of Fashion, The, 207, 208\\nTrench, Richard, quotations\\nfrom.. 133, 271\\nTrials, Bearing Up Under. 60\\nHelp in Midst of 276\\nIntensify Happiness. 203\\nof Life, The Afterward of,\\nFull of Peace 310\\nTrifles, Superior to 124\\nTrouble, Borrowing 109, 110\\nTroubles that do Not Come, 144, 145\\nTrue Culture 96\\nTrue Rest, Lucy Fletcher s\\npoem, quoted 207\\nTrust, A Life of 211, 212\\nin God 44\\nLove and 307, 308\\nPerfect, in God 301\\nTruth and Honesty Universal\\nCoin 261\\nTung-Chou, China, Military\\nStudents of 72\\nTupper, E. I., quotation from, 357\\nTwo Monks, The, poem by\\nA. A. Bragdon, quoted, 243, 244\\nTwo Sides of It, The, poem\\nby P. Leonard, quoted. 376\\nTypewriter, Story of Girl. .59, 60\\nUhland, quotation from 103\\nUnexpected Human Gold 142\\nUnited Energy 84\\nUnnoticed Bound, The,\\nquoted 148\\nUnseen, The Permanence of\\nthe 47, 48\\nUnselfishness 320, 321\\nBeauty of ....243, 244\\nThe Blessings of 94\\nThe Glory of 125\\nUseful Spider-webs 352\\nUselessness of Spite, The 24, 25\\nVagabonds, Sin s 370, 371\\nValiant, The Truly 228\\nValue of an Opportunity, The, 254\\nof a Soul, The 46\\nof Strong Men 32\\nof Things, The Relative,\\n232, 233\\nValues, Appreciating 159, 160\\nVan Dyke, Henry, quotations\\nfrom 89, 353\\nVerities, Permanence of the\\nUnseen 47\\nVictoria, Queen, Story of 361\\nVictory of Christ, The Coming, 254\\nOver Cowardice 155\\nView, The Point of 62, 63\\nVineta, Sunken City of, Legend, 25\\nViolin, A Rescued 64, 65\\nVoice, Human Beings Individ-\\nalizedby Pitch of ...86, 87\\nThe Deeper 39\\nWaddell, Major, Story of Him-\\nalaya Travel by 234", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0408.jp2"}, "409": {"fulltext": "Topical Index\\n399\\nPAGE\\nWages of Sin, The 78\\nWaiting, Always Harder than\\nWorking 2*3, 224\\nResting and 149, 150\\nWar-drums shall be Still,\\nWhen 71, 72\\nWarfare, of the Tongue, Guer-\\nrilla 172\\nWaring, Anna L., quotation\\nfrom.... 365\\nWastage of Life, The 282\\nWaste in Modern Cities 139\\nof Emotion 277\\nWasted Nerves 301-303\\nWatson, Elizabeth Loe, quo-\\ntation from 166\\nJean, quotation from 217\\nWayside Caches 87, 88\\nWeak, Helping the 317, 318\\nSpot, Elijah s 7?\\nWealth, Corrupt Use of .82, 83\\nin Appreciation 262, 263\\nof the World for All 88\\nThe Annoyances of 11, 12\\nThe Limitations of 6\\nWeary in Well-doing, quo-\\ntation from C. Rossetti s, 30, 31\\nWeaver, The Blind 240, 241\\nWeeping Children, The 362\\nWellington, Ode to, Ten-\\nnyson s 32\\nWesley, Charles, quotation\\nfrom 138\\nWhen I Have Time, poem,\\nquoted 163\\nWhen I Went Out to Glean,\\npoem by A. Barr, quoted 242\\nWhen My Mother Tucks Me\\nIn, Betty Garland s poem,\\nquoted 157\\nWhen the Birds Go North\\nAgain, E. Higginson s\\npoem, quoted 51\\nWhen War-drums shall be\\nStill 71, 72\\nWhen Wilt Thou Save the\\nPpople? poem uotedq 214\\nWhite Slaves 313\\nWhittier, J. G., quotations\\nfrom, 49, 70, 94, 117, 231,\\n247, 272, 301, 856, 367\\nPoem, addressed to, by O.\\nW. Holmes 233\\nWicked Excuses 106\\nWilcox, E. W., quotations\\nfrom 189, 238, 291\\nWilhelm, Emperor, Story of,\\n150, 151\\nPAGE\\nWill of God, Perfect Peace in\\nSubmission to 31\\nWilliams, Roger, Anecdote of, 43\\nStory of the Convict 110\\nWillis, Nellie, quotation from,\\n223, 264\\nWind-blown Lives 311\\nWireless Telegraphy 67, 68\\nWiser Being Good than Bad. 85\\nWichout Spot or Blemish 262\\nWizard, A Wonderful 232\\nWoman s Side of Home Life. 101\\nWood, Anecdote of General, 13, 14\\nWoodpeckers and the Tele-\\ngraph-pole 45\\nWoods, Bertha, quotation\\nfrom. 218\\nWord, The Winged 118, 119\\nWords, The Man Behind the. 186\\nValue of Kind 374. 375\\nWordsworth, William, quota-\\ntions from. .27, 47, 92, 127, 283\\nWork, Common, Glorified 113\\nWorker, Comfort for the\\nChristian 69\\nor Pauper, Which 179\\nWorks, Prayer Without 73\\nPrayer and 208, 309\\nWorld Bio ves, The 42, 43\\nWorld Soul, quotation from\\nEmerson s 9\\nWorldliness, The Danger of,\\n114, 115\\nWorms in the Books 173, 174\\nWorship, Fireside 108\\nPower of 79\\nWorth, Real... 275, 276\\nSaving 19\\nWorth, Stone for Monument of\\nGeneral 262\\nWreck, Ospreys Nesting in a,\\n198, 199\\nWrecks of Self-indulgence,\\nThe 226\\nWrestling Jacob, Charles\\nWesley s poem, quoted 138\\nWrongdoing, Confession of 43\\nYoung, Annie H., quotation\\nfrom 310\\nYouth, Love Renewing 9\\nMake the Most of 257\\nof the Soul 85, 86\\nWhat It Ought to Be 143\\nZangwill, Hebrew Novelist.... 184\\nZinc, A City of 165, 166\\nZosimus, Greek historian 2", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0409.jp2"}, "410": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0410.jp2"}, "411": {"fulltext": "Books by\\nDR. LOUIS ALBERT BANKS.\\nChrist and His Friends*\\nA Collection of Revival Sermons, Simple and Direct, and Wholly\\nDevoid of Oratorical Artifice, but Rich in Natural Eloquence, and\\nBurning with Spiritual Fervor. The author has strengthened\\nand enlivened them with many illustrations and anecdotes.\\n12mo, Cloth, Gilt Top, Rough Edges. Price, $1.50; post-free.\\nNational Presbyterian, Indianapolis: One of the most marked revivals\\nattended their delivery, resulting in hundreds of conversions. Free from extrav-\\nagance and fantasticism, in good taste, dwelling upon the essentials of religious\\nfaith, their power has not been lost in transference to the printed page.\\nNew York Observer: These sermons are mainly hortatory always\\naiming at conviction or conversion. They abound in fresh and forcible illus-\\ntrations. They furnish a fine specimen of the best way to reach the popular\\near, and may be commended as putting the claims of the Gospel upon men s at-\\ntention in a very direct and striking manner. No time is wasted in rhetorical\\nornament, but every stroke tells upon the main point.\\nThe Fisherman and His Friends*\\nA Companion Volume to Christ and His Friends, consisting of\\nThirty-one Stirring Revival Discourses, full of Stimulus and Sug-\\ngestion for Minis ters, Bible class Teachers, and all Christian\\nWorkers and Others who Desire to become Proficient in the\\nSupreme Capacity of Winning Souls to Christ. They furnish a\\nrich store of fresh spiritual inspiration, their subjects being strong,\\nstimulating, and novel in treatment, without being sensational or\\nelaborate. They were originally preached by the author in a\\nsuccessful series of revival meetings, which resulted in many\\nconversions. 12mo, Cloth, Gilt Top. Price, $1.50; post-free.\\nBishop John F. Hurst: It is a most valuable addition to our devotional\\nliterature.\\nNew York Independent There is no more distinguished example of the\\nmodern people s preacher in the American pulpit to-day than Dr. Banks. This\\nvolume fairly thrills and rocks with the force injected into its utterance. 1", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0411.jp2"}, "412": {"fulltext": "BOOKS BY DR. LOUIS ALBERT BANKS Continued.\\nPaul and His Friends*\\nA companion volume to Christ and His Friends, The Fisher-\\nman and His Friends, and John and His Friends, being sim-\\nilarly bound and arranged. The book contains thirty-one stir-\\nring revival sermons delivered in a special series of revival ser-\\nvices at the First M. E. Church, Cleveland. 12mo, Cloth, Gilt\\nTop, Rough Edges. Price, $1.50.\\nInter Ocean, Chicago: The addresses are markedly practical, eloquent,\\nearnest, and persuasive. Dr. Banks will especially interest the young. His\\nillustrations are apt and pointed, and he gathers his facts from the wide range of\\nliterature past and present.\\nJohn and His Friends*\\nThirty-three clear, straight, and forceful revival sermons, texts\\nfrom the Gospel of John. They are of the same general charac-\\nter and excellence as the sermons contained in the three preced-\\ning volumes of this series. A companion volume to Paul and\\nHis Friends, The Fisherman and His Friends, and Christ\\nand His Friends. 12mo, Cloth, Gilt Top, Rough Edges, 297\\npages. Cover Design in Gold, Bronze, and Black. Price, $1.50.\\nThe Burlington Hawk=Eye, Burlington, Iowa: A very gracious revival\\nof religion was awakened by their delivery.\\nThe Bookseller Newsdealer, and Stationer, New York: Those who\\nhave read Dr. Banks s previous books need not be told that these sermons are\\noriginal and practical and full of interesting illustrations and anecdotes.\\nPhiladelphia Evening Item: Revival literature has seldom if ever\\nreceived so large a contribution from one man.\\nDavid and His Friends*\\nThirty-one forceful revival sermons similar in general character\\nto those in the preceding volumes of the Friends series. Texts\\nfrom Samuel and the Psalms. A companion volume to Christ\\nand His Friends, etc. 12mo, Cloth, 320 pages, Gilt Top, Rough\\nEdges. Price $1.50.\\nThe Christian Guide, Louisville: Will be sure of a hearty welcome from\\na multitude of preachers and religious workers who have found the preceding\\nvolumes so helpful and inspiring.\\nThe Outlook, New York: Evangelical, ethical, pointed with apt personal\\ninterest and narrative, every one of these sermons is a well-aimed arrow.\\nChicago Times=Herald The sermons are not in the least orations, nor\\nis their power in formal argument. It is rather in the power there is in state-\\nment and in pertinent illustration.\\nHartford Courant These are the sort of sermons to be read at home, or\\neven by a lay reader in the absence of the clergyman, for they are sufficiently\\ngraphic to dispense with a personal exponent.\\nThe Christian Advocate, Detroit They are practical and are illus-\\ntrated with everyday incidents. The author finds very striking subjects for his\\ndiscourses.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0412.jp2"}, "413": {"fulltext": "BOOKS BY DR. LOUIS ALBERT BANKS\u00e2\u0080\u0094 Continued.\\nThe Christian Gentleman*\\nA volume of original and practical addresses to young men. The\\naddresses were originally delivered to large and enthusiastic\\naudiences of men, in Cleveland, at the Young Men s Christian\\nAssociation Hall. 12mo, Buckram. Price, 75 cents.\\nMy Young Man*\\nPractical and straightforward talks to young men. They are\\ndevoted to the consideration of the young man in his relationships\\nas a son, a brother, a member of society, a lover, a husband, a\\ncitizen, a young man and his money, and the young man as him-\\nself. 12mo, Cloth, Cover Design. Price, 75 cents.\\nCentral Christian Advocate, St. Louis, Mo.: There are ten of them\\nbrief, pointed, practical, luminous with illustrations and with poetical citations.\\nHero Tales from Sacred Story.\\nThe romantic stories of bible characters retold in graphic style,\\nwith modern parallels and striking applications. Richly illus-\\ntrated with 19 full-page illustrations from famous paintings.\\n12mo, Cloth, Gilt Top, Cover Design. Price, $1.50.\\nChristian Work, New York: One can not imagine a better book to put\\ninto the hands of a young man or young woman than this.\\nThe Saloon-Keeper s Ledger.\\nThe business and financial side of the drink question. 12mo,\\nCloth. Price, 75 cents.\\nThe Christian Herald, Detroit: The discourses are the masterpieces of\\nan expert, abounding in apt illustrations and invincible logic, sparkling with\\nanecdote, and scintillating with unanswerable facts.\\nSermon Stories for Boys and Girls*\\nShort Stories of great interest, with which are interwoven les-\\nsons of practical helpfulness for young minds. 12mo, Cloth,\\nArtistic Cover Design, Illustrated. Price, $1.00.\\nChristian Advocate, New York: They are expressed in the freshness\\nand simplicity of child language.\\nThe Burlington Hawk=Eye He catches the eyes and ears of his hear-\\ners by bright little stories about animals, events in current life, and interesting\\nfeatures of nature, and then with rare skill, makes each of these stories carry a\\nhelpful message.\\n(ilobe, Toronto, Canada: There are quickening tales told of Lincoln s\\nhumanity, and one of General Lee, who imperilled his life under fire by pausing\\nto replace a nest of young birds dislodged by a shell.\\nReligious Herald, Hartford, Conn. The book is a character guide-book\\nwhich must prove of inestimable assistance to mothers, teachers, and pastors.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0413.jp2"}, "414": {"fulltext": "BOOKS BY DR. LOUIS ALBERT BANKS Continued.\\nSeven Times Around Jericho*\\nSeven Strong and Stirring Temperance Discourses, in which Deep\\nEnthusiasm is Combined with Rational Reasoning A Refreshing\\nChange from the Conventional Temperance Arguments. Pathetic\\nincidents and stories are made to carry most convincingly their\\nvital significance to the subjects discussed. They treat in broad\\nmanner various features of the question. 12mo, Handsomely\\nBound in Polished Buckram. Price, 75 cents.\\nHerald and Presbyter, Cincinnati: The book is sure to be a power for\\ngood. The discourses have the true ring.\\nJersey City News Such able discourses as these of Dr. Banks will won-\\nderfully help the great work of educating and arousing the people to their duty.\\nRevival Quiver*\\nA Pastor s Record of Four Revival Campaigns. 12mo, Cloth,\\n$1.50.\\nThis book is, in some sense, a record of personal experiences in revival\\nwork. It begins with Planning for a Revival, followed by Methods in\\nRevival Work. This is followed by brief outlines of some hundred or more\\nsermons. They have points to them, and one can readily see that they were\\nadapted to the purpose designed. The volume closes with A Scheme of City\\nEvangelization. It seems to us a valuable book, adapted to the wants of many\\na preacher and pastor.\\nWhite Slaves or, The Oppression of the Worthy Poor*\\nFifty Illustrations. 12mo, Cloth, $1.50.\\nThe Rev. Dr. Banks has made a personal and searching investigation into\\nthe homes of the poorer classes, and in the White Slaves the results are\\ngiven. The work is illustrated from photographs taken by the author; and the\\nstory told by pen and camera is startling. It should be borne in mind that the\\nauthor s visits were made to the homes of the worthy poor, who are willing to\\nwork hard for subsistence, and not to the homes of the criminal and vicious.\\nThe Christ Dream,\\n12mo, Cloth, $1.20.\\nA series of twenty-four sermons in which illustrations of the Christ ideal\\nare thrown upon the canvas, showing here and there individuals who have risen\\nabove the selfish, and measure up to the Christ dream. In tone it is optimistic,\\nand sees the bright side of life.\\nCommon Folks Religion*\\nA Volume of Sermons. 12mo, Cloth, $1.50.\\nBoston Journal: Dr. Banks presents Christ to the common people, 1\\nand preaches to every-day folk the glorious every-day truths of the Scripture.\\nThe sermons are original, terse, and timely, full of reference to current topics,\\nand have that earnest quality which is particularly needed to move the people\\nfor whom they were spoken.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0414.jp2"}, "415": {"fulltext": "BOOKS BY DR. LOUIS ALBERT BANKS\u00e2\u0080\u0094 Continued.\\nAnecdotes and Morals.\\nFive hundred and fifty-Time attractive and forceful lessons which\\nmay be profitably utilized by the public speaker to freshly illus-\\ntrate divine truth. They are almost entirely composed of inci-\\ndents, happening throughout the world within the past few\\nmonths. 12mo, Buckram, Gilt Top, Uncut Edges, 463 pages.\\nPrice, $1.50.\\nBoston Journal: More than half a thousand anecdotes, some witty, all\\npointed and instructive, make up this unusual book. His anecdotes all have a\\npurpose, and are prettily expressed.\\nThe Globe=Democrat, St. Louis: The index to the contents and the sys-\\ntem of cross-references make the stories immediately available to whomever\\nwishes to use them in illustration.\\nThe Lutheran Observer, Lancaster, Pa.: They are aptly related and\\nalways enforce the truths intended.\\nHerald and Presbyter, Cincinnati: Altho there are so many selections,\\neach new page contains some original lessons and a constant variety is main-\\ntained throughout.\\nThe Christian Observer, Louisville, Ky.: In this collection are found\\nmany anecdotes that are striking, well put, and in good taste.\\nPoetry and Morals*\\nClear, straight, and forceful lessons emphasized by familiar pas-\\nsages of prose and poetry. The author has arranged several\\nhundred simple truths in paragraphs appropriately headed in\\nfull-face type. The truths are explained in a few terse sentences,\\nand then a verse, entire poem, or prose selection having direct\\nbearing on the truth is added, forming a perfect storehouse of\\nsuggestive material for the preacher and writer. A companion\\nvolume to Anecdotes and Morals. 12mo, Cloth, 399 Pages,\\n$1.50.\\nA Year s Prayer-Meeting Talks*\\nFifty-two suggestive and inspiring talks for prayer-meetings.\\nHelpful material is provided for a whole year s weekly meetings.\\nThe talks have been already used by Dr. Banks in a most success-\\nful series of services. The author s well-known skill in present-\\ning the old truths in bright and striking ways is evidenced in\\nthese interesting talks. The book is designed to be a right-hand\\naid for preachers and religious workers. 12mo, Cloth. Price $1.00.\\nChristian Work, New York: The reader will be sure to be attracted and\\nhelped by such talks as these.\\nBaptist Outlook, Indianapolis: Anecdotes, stories, bright similes, and\\npoetical quotations enliven the talks.\\nBoston Times The subjects are treated in original ways, but never in a\\nsensational or unwholesome manner.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0415.jp2"}, "416": {"fulltext": "BOOKS BY DR. LOUIS ALBERT BANKS Continued.\\nThe People s Christ*\\nA Volume of Sermons and Other Addresses and Papers. 12mo,\\nCloth, $1.25.\\nNew York Observer These sermons are excellent specimens of dis-\\ncourses adapted to reach the masses. Their manner of presenting Christian\\ntruth is striking. They abound in all kinds of illustration, and are distinguished\\nby a bright, cheerful tone and style, which admirably fit them for making per-\\nmanent impression.\\nHeavenly Trade-Winds*\\nA Volume of Sermons. 12mo, Cloth, $1.25.\\nFrom author s preface: The sermons included in this volume have all\\nbeen delivered in the regular course of my ministry in the Hanson-Place\\nMethodist Episcopal Church, Brooklyn. They have been blessed of God in\\nconfronting the weary, giving courage to the faint, arousing the indifferent, and\\nawakening the sinful.\\nThe Honeycombs of Life*\\nA Volume of Sermons. 12mo, Cloth, $1.50.\\nMost of the discourses are spiritual honeycombs, means of refreshment and\\nillumination by the way. The Soul s Resources, Cure for Anxiety, At\\nthe Beautiful Gate, The Pilgrimage of Faith, and Wells in the Valley of\\nBaca, are among his themes. The volume is well laden with evangelical truth,\\nand breathes a holy inspiration. This volume also includes Dr. Banks s\\nMemorial tribute to Lucy Stone and his powerful sermon in regard to the Chinese\\nin America, entitled Our Brother in Yellow.\\nImmortal Hymns and Their Story.\\nThe Narrative of the Conception and Striking Experiences of\\nBlessing Attending the Use of some of the World s Greatest\\nHymns. With 21 Portraits and 25 full-page half-tone illustra-\\ntions by Norval Jordan. 8vo, Cloth, Gilt Top, $3.00.\\nAn Oregon Boyhood*\\nThe story of Dr. Banks s boyhood in Oregon in the pioneer days,\\nincluding innumerable dramatic, romantic, and exciting experi-\\nences of frontier life. 12mo, Cloth. Tastefully bound and\\nprinted. Illustrated. Price $1.25.\\nFINK WAGNALLS CO., Publishers, 30 Lafayette PI., NEW YORK.", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0416.jp2"}, "417": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0417.jp2"}, "418": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0418.jp2"}, "419": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0419.jp2"}, "420": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0420.jp2"}, "421": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3471", "width": "2085", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0421.jp2"}, "422": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3759", "width": "2437", "jp2-path": "poetrymoralssugg00bank_0422.jp2"}}