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4. When the soul is at rest, when the passions are all attuned to the divine harmony—“spirits moving musically to a lute's well-ordered lawdo we not read the placid significance thereof in the human countenance ? I have seen,” said Charles Lamb, “faces upon which the dove of

' peace sat brooding." In that simple and beautiful record of a holy life, “The Journal of John Woolman,” there is a passage of which I have been more than once reminded in my intercourse with my fellow-beings: "Some glances of real beauty may be seen in their faces who dwell in true meek

There is a divine harmony in the sound of that voice to which divine love gives utterance."

5. Quite the ugliest face I ever saw was that of a woman whom the world calls beautiful. Through its "silver veil" the evil and ungentle passions looked out, hideous and hateful. On the other hand, there are faces which the multitude at the first glance pronounce homely, unattractive, and such as “Nature fashions by the gross,” which I always recognize with a warm heart-thrill. Not for the world would I have one feature changed; they please me as they are; they are hallowed by kind memories; they are beautiful through their associations; nor are they any the less welcome, that with my admiration of them “the stranger intermeddleth not."

John G. Whittier.



1. THE fresh breeze whistles above us, the tide

runs fast below, The ship is waiting, they tell me—is waiting

and I must go; For my bread must be won on the waters, on

the changeful, treacherous main; I'll be back in a year, my baby, when the roses

bloom again.

2. A year! Full many a sailor, ere the year is

past, shall sleep With a bowlder of rock for a pillow, in the tan

gle-weed, fathoms deep. Back in a year, my lambkin! the words are

quickly said, But the storm will be up and doing and the sea

will have its dead

3. What then? Who die in their duty, die well,

and are in His hand. “We're as near to heaven," said old Gilbert,

" by sea as we are by land." E'en then we shall have a meeting, and no more

parting and pain, When both are at rest on our Father's breast, and the roses bloom again.

H. W. Dulcken.


1. How happy is he born and taught

That serveth not another's will,
Whose armor is his honest thought,

And simple truth his utmost skill.

2. Whose passions not his masters are,

Whose soul is still prepared for death, Untied unto the world by care

Of public fame or private breath.

3. Who envies none that chance doth raise,

Nor vice hath ever understood;
How deepest wounds are given by praise,

Nor rules of state, but rules of good.

4. Who hath his life from rumors freed,

Whose conscience is his strong retreat ; Whose state can neither flatterers feed,

Nor ruin make oppressors great.

5. Who God doth late and early pray

More of His grace than gifts to ier.d,
And entertains the harmless day

With a religious book or friend.

0. This man is freed from servile hands,

Of hope to rise or fear to fall;
Lord of himself, though not of lands,
And having nothing, yet hath all.



GET not your friends by bare compliments, but by giving them sensible tokens of your love. It is well worth while to learn how to win the heart of a man in the right way. Force is of no use to make or preserve a friend, who is an animal that is never caught nor tamed but by kindness and pleasure.

Socrates. II.

Such as are thy habitual thoughts, such also will be the character of thy mind; for the soul is dyed by the thoughts. Dye it, then, with a continuous series of such thoughts as these: for instance, that where a man can live, there he can also live well. But he must live in a palace: well, then, he can also live well in a palace.

Marcus Aurelius.


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So nigh is grandeur to our dust,

So near is God to man,
When Duty whispers low, Thou must,
The youth replies, I can.

R. W. Emerson.

pirs & Tr til Arena

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