The Christian Is Not Always Praying; But

The Cry Of Distress Lays Hold Of Our Lord's Omnipotence. It Is As Easy For God To Supply Thy Greatest As Thy Smallest Wants, Even As It Was Within His Power To Form A System Or An Atom, To Create A Blazing Sun As To Kindle The Fire-fly's Lamp.

You Are So To Put Forth The Power That God Has Given You; You Are So To Give, And Sacrifice To Give, As To Earn The Eulogium Pronounced On The Woman, "she Hath Done What She Could." Do It Now. It Is Not A Safe Thing To Leave A Generous Feeling To The Cooling Influences Of A Cold World. If You Intend To Do A Mean Thing, Wait Till Tomorrow; If You Are To Do A Noble Thing, Do It Now,--now!

In The Spangled Sky, The Rainbow, The Woodland Hung With Diamonds, The Sward Sown With Pearly Dew, The Rosy Dawn, The Golden Clouds Of Even, The Purple Mountains, The Hoary Rock, The Blue Boundless Main, Nature's Simplest Flower, Or Some Fair Form Of Laughing Child Or Lovely Maiden, We Cannot See The Beautiful Without Admiring It.

The Christian Is Not Always Praying; But Within His Bosom Is A Heaven-kindled Love--fires Of Desire, Fervent Longings--which Make Him Always Ready To Pray, And Often Engage Him In Prayer.

As In Nature, As In The Arts, So In Grace; It Is Rough Treatment That Gives Souls As Well As Stones Their Lustre; The More The Diamond Is Cut The Brighter It Sparkles; And In What Seems Hard Dealing, Their God Has No End In View But To Perfect His People's Graces. Our Father, And And Kindest Of Fathers, He Afflicts Not Willingly; He Sends Tribulations, But Hear St Paul Tell Their Purpose, - "tribulation Worketh Patience, And Patience Experience, And Experience Hope."